Using myself as an object lesson once again, I’ll remind anyone with a less than perfectly functioning self to make use of the services that are offered to you. More than that, be proactive, and request what you need.
It’s amazing how many ways there are to make the trials of modern travel easier, but also amazing how loathe some of us can be to ask for help.
Today’s case in point: having a difficult joint act up while waiting in the Dublin Airport 51st & Green airside (past security) Lounge. This is a lovely, bright airport lounge. There are quite a few worse places to pass a few hours. Its design, meant to evoke the Neolithic tomb Newgrange, immediately made both myself and my husband think of 2001: A Space Odyssey when we (on separate occasions) entered.
Evocative–and attractive–as the long, white entry corridor is, it’s enough to strike fear into the heart (or knee, foot, hip) of an individual struggling to walk without pain. The toilets are 2/3 of the way down, back by the reception desk. Sigh.
I thought about going to ask for a wheelchair escort when the pain struck, then sat down, determined to ignore yet another annoying infirmity. Then I had this thought: if my husband were here, he would demand help for me, because he thinks I deserve it. And he’s right!
If I were watching a loved one struggle with pain, even mild pain, I would seek help, and I would insist s/he make use of it. Why should I do any less for myself?
Am I suggesting that I’m the center of the Universe, that everything revolves around me and my needs? Well, no. But I would argue that treating myself as less than I would a friend or casual acquaintance isn’t brave or valiant, it’s unloving and unwise.
Self advocacy doesn’t equate to self indulgence.