Public Speaking Jitters

I’m five days away from talking to a classroom of graduate students about my life with Primary Lateral Sclerosis, and…I’m nervous. I haven’t reached the “I’m-at-the-top-of-the-Tower-of-Terror” level of anxiety yet, but I probably will sometime during the day on March 11^th.  That’s when I’ll obsessively read over my notes and try not to hyperventilate at the thought of twenty pairs of eyes staring at me while my husband coaxes me down off the proverbial ledge.

 

So why did I agree to do this??    I want to create awareness about disability.

 

How am I going to do this??   By telling my story to those who will work with disabled people.

 

I have coveted insider information. 

 

  Basically, I’m a seasoned pro at living in a wheelchair.

 

I doubt I’d be too jittery if I were scheduled to chat about my writing, or the slideshow presentation I’m working on for my son’s hockey team. Those are fun, and while they’re personal things, they’re not overly private. To me, health is an intimate subject, and how my family and I deal with my day-to-day issues is a difficult topic to blab about in public. But if it helps others understand the struggles disabled people go through, then I’m all in.

 

What will I talk about?             Me. My wheelchair savvy life, and how people react to my wheels.

My husband, who’s going to talk with me, asked if we were going to participate in a question and answer forum. I hope, fingers crossed, that when we’re finished with our presentation, people will ask questions. My dire fear is that no one will laugh, or even crack a smile, at our story. And believe me, the learning curve of how to deal with my disibility was, and still is, hilarious. Take the Baltimore Aquarium public bathroom as example number one in hilarity.

In 2004, there wasn’t a family bathroom at the Baltimore Aquarium. After spending a few hours there with my husband, son, and one of our good friends, I couldn’t hold it anymore. I had to use the bathroom. Our friend offered to watch our four-year-old son and let people know my husband was helping me in the handicap accessible bathroom stall. Her idea of informing the women entering the bathroom was to practically shout at everyone, “THERE’S A MAN IN THERE HELPING HIS WIFE GO TO THE BATHROOM!” Every time she repeated her vociferous chant, my husband’s face turned a shade redder. By the end of three minutes, the vein in his temple was pulsing. I often wonder what those women thought they’d see when they walked into the room. I laugh now, but then I was afraid I might witness a homicide.

I'll mention that story because it illustrates how public spaces can exclude some of their guest’s needs. Family restrooms help people like me, but they’re essential for others like the father with the four-year-old daughter, or the mom with the four-year-old son.

 
Along with the back-story of how l got sick and learned to live the way I do now, I’ll talk about accessibility issues and the different attitudes about disability that I face every day.

The one impression I really want to leave with my captive audience is that the majority of people with a disability don’t let it stop them from achieving the things they want to do. We just have a few more obstacles to conquer.

Like Walt Disney said, “If you can dream it, you can achieve it.”