I’ve been trying not to sweat the small stuff so much lately. Given how much I swore when I got an email earlier that some of my Paralympic tickets need changing its safe to say its not worked as well as it could but it has made a difference. So here’s my new theory.
Got a chance to sail but the wind is a bit scarier than you’d like? Take a friend on a buddy seat and go anyway. Find something to laugh about.
When it gets a bit hairy? Swear. And then laugh
When three waves hit you in the face one after the other your soaked to the skin and can’t see for a minute or two for water in your eyes? I find madly giggling the best thing to do.
When you know that given how much your being wet has triggered your spasticity changing your clothes independently isn’t going to happen? Well, you know you’ve got CP when you’re thirty, your Dad is going to have to strip you off and help you get dressed again and THATS OK. And “you know you’ve got CP when…” moments always make me chuckle.
“Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea”
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
(visual description: two photos of the sunset over the reservoir after sailing this evening. The top one was taken earlier so the sun is higher and reflected on the water. In the foreground some people appear in silhouette. The second was taken perhaps 15 minutes later. The sun is much lower and the clouds are more obvious. Our accessible pontoon is in the foreground. These are the same photos I posted on Facebook earlier).
…despite being 30 and having been to London many times you go on the tube for only the second and third time ever.
…you take a 40 minute longer train route into London so you can go straight from the train to the accessible bit of the tube. And it’s worth it, easy and exciting.
…you’re so impressed with the access in your hotel room you consider cancelling the much closer and cheaper hotel rooms you have for the Paralympics to stay there again.
…the fact you expected to be frisked by the airport style security but weren’t surprises you.
…you mutter a lot about how unsafe it was the security guy queried what one of the things you had with you was (my powerchair charger) as he couldn’t tell on the X-ray but when your Dad offered to get it out said it was unnecessary. You’re screening for terrorist threats. I’m carrying a box with electrics you can’t identify. I’d really rather you bothered me.
…you love sitting in the Aquatics centre watching the swimming but wonder just how different sitting their (bizarrely in almost exactly the same place) watching the Paralympic swimming will be. Which leads to pondering just how many pool hoists they’ll have.
…no matter how many different ways the question is phrased you just can’t comment on how long the queues were. They looked long. But things were set up so the Gamesmakers skipped you out of them.
…you get weird looks from passersby when the above causes you to declare with a grin “God I love being in a wheelchair.”
…you absolutely love it. But you just can’t wait for the Paralympics. Because that’ll be unbelievable.
“And on this banner day during the Oxfordshire Crip-Olympics 2012 the Gold medal in the standing frame event is awarded to Emma Crees.
In a breathtaking performance she wows the crowds and sets a personal best of 40 minutes standing in the frame.
A well deserved gold for the talented CPer who just a year ago was a novice in the standing frame with no expectation of ever achieving greatness.
The grin on her face when she realised just what she’d managed has to be seen to be believed. A gold medal day to never be forgotten.”
And the crowd goes wild….