It’s always been easier for me to lose myself in a book or movie then to make friends. When I say that, as a woman who lives her whole life in a wheelchair, people think they know everything, picturing towheaded me sitting dejected in a too-big chair while the neighborhood kids played kickball and leave me out, possibly tossing off some casual slur like “Jerry’s Kid” as they pass. Actually, they were pretty good about it; in retrospect, my Poindexterish insistence in explaining just how my d. . .
It’s always been easier for me to lose myself in a book or movie then to make friends. When I say that, as a woman who lives her whole life in a wheelchair, people think they know everything, picturing towheaded me sitting dejected in a too-big chair while the neighborhood kids played kickball and leave me out, possibly tossing off some casual slur like “Jerry’s Kid” as they pass. Actually, they were pretty good about it; in retrospect, my Poindexterish insistence in explaining just how my d. . .