Sticks and Stones...

Every little kid hears that age old expression of "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."

I hate to tell you, but who ever came up with this expressions was lying to a kid. These days, the other kid who is hurling the bad names or nasty words would most likely be accused of bullying. Within the two extremes, hopefully a happy medium exists there somewhere.

Words do hurt. Often, the words can hurt just as much as physical wounds. Add in skeptical looks and your day can be ruined. I have written about this issue several times, so I am aware of the issue and perhaps should be able to shrug it off by now, but I cannot.

What worsens those words and looks is the already instilled frustration of being limited in the things I can do, things that I used to be able to do, almost without consciously thinking about what I was doing.

Yesterday morning, I dragged myself out of bed by 7 a.m. (way before my brain kicks into gear) to head to our church parking lot for its spring festival. I had suggested to a friend that she rent a table space and attempt to sell her beautiful handmade jewelry. I offered to help her in this endeavor, figuring I could provide moral support plus visit with some of my church friends. My contribution was an extra hand in setting up the table, then sitting in the sun and holding down a chair for the five hours of the festival. I think I did a good job holding down that chair, it didn't get up once to run away.

I had also made my usual contributions to the bake sale table. I had not volunteered to work any of the church's tables because I can no longer handle money transactions. I would either cause irate customers who were short-changed or very happy customers who got back more in change than they had initially handed to me. Many people love my baked goods and my chocolate layer cake with peanut butter frosting is usually the first thing off the table. That part of the day made me feel good, that I could still make it!

Back to those hurtful words. One of the first hurtful things was when I overheard someone say was "Look now she is using her cane. She wasn't using it before." Technically, she was correct. When my hands were full of the baked goods when unloading them from the car, walking three feet and handing them to the women, I was not able to use my cane and took the risk falling. I didn't think it was my responsibility to explain that the cane is for when my sense of balance disappears or one of my legs doesn't get the signal from my brain to move. This does not occur constantly and sometimes I take the risk. I could have turned around and explained this, but figured anyone thoughtless enough to comment on it wouldn't believe me anyway, nor try to understand.

Of course there was the old reliable "You look wonderful!" Heard this one a couple times. While veiled as a complement, when coupled with the skeptical look that adds "Are you sure you are sick?" it truly hurts. What am I to do? Should I stop dressing nicely, fixing my hair and applying a little makeup to try to look a little better so that they can believe there is something wrong with me?

Throughout the entire event, there was also something going on that made me quite uncomfortable. I will not go in to the details because if anyone from the church reads this, it will be obvious whom I speaking about. Unlike others, who don't think before they speak, I, the one with no impulse control or filter between mouth and brain, will restrain my fingers from typing the hurtful thing that continued through the entire five hours. I will just hint that it involved feeling like this person's constant stare was boring a hole straight through my heart and sole. This was from a distance, so I could not hear any words being said, but knowing that this person talks even more than I do, I am confident that they were being said.

What it boils down to is that in some cases, you don't have to actually hear the hurtful words when you can read them in the other person's eyes and the look on their face. I had intended to visit the table where this person was working, but opted to stay away, because without a filter between mouth and brain, I know I would have said some hurtful words and I would not want to do that to anyone if I was able to help it.