Everyone seems to go through a time in their lives when they feel invisible.  Kids often feel this, as they are invisible to adults.  Sometimes children feel invisible within a family, even past childhood.  Some may even feel invisible at work, often a product of their own diligent work ethic overriding their need to mingle and socialize.  While I’ve felt each of these in my lifetime, the invisibility I suffer from is much more frustrating, and infinitely more degrading.

I haven’t publicly made much of a fuss about the situation with my foot.  Let me officially say that it’s relatively serious, and I’m lucky to have caught it before more damage was done (though I could have worried about it sooner).

As such, I’ve had to resort to various forms of movement when leaving the house.  Normally, that means I use my crutches.  When I go to a big enough store, I’m lucky to be able to find a motorized scooter.  Smaller stores mean I’ll be suffering from severe foot pain in my GOOD foot when I’m done.  Visiting someone’s house is manageable, as long as I can sit down quickly.  Anything else and I basically plant myself in a chair and try not to move unless necessary.

I seem to get questions from just about anybody asking what happened to me.  With as much attention on my foot, you would imagine that people would see me moving around.  Unfortunately, most people don’t want to look.

My invisibility is most evident when I’m in a motorized scooter at the store.  People won’t look at me.  People will hit me with their cart.  People will stop in the middle of an aisle with me right on their ass.  I’m treated like I don’t exist.  To them, I’m invisible.

In fact, the only looks I get seem to be from the few people who can’t believe a younger man, not suffering from severe obesity, needs to be on a scooter.  I may not be invisible to them, but their accusing glare makes me wish they’d ignore me the way most others seem to.

You might think I’m overreacting.  I invite anyone to accompany me on a shopping trip, or better yet, try it yourself.  You may be amazed by how entirely ignorant people are of your existence.

The invisibility isn’t limited to scooters.  I’m invisible on my crutches, too.  Just today, Jill and I went to a movie.  We waited until the theater was nearly empty before leaving.  Near the hallway out of the actual theater, a group of five people stood in my way.  Jill walked on ahead of me a little, walking by them with normal clearance.  I need more than normal clearance with my crutches.  They stood there, unmoving, even looking at me.  I stood there a moment, waiting.  When they didn’t move, I had to crutch sideways to get by them.  This happens to me a lot, too.

This past week, I finally asked for a handicap parking tag.  For almost two months, we’ve parked halfway down the row of parking spaces.  As I painfully crutch to the door, I constantly pass people who seem to bound out of their vehicle and gleefully walk to the door with much more ease than I have.

The last time Jill and I went shopping, she gave the shopping cart a nudge across the lane to the return stall, where I was getting out of the scooter.  The cart caught me a little off-guard, and I stumbled while directing the cart into the correct spot.  A woman I had just witnessed parking in a handicap stall just happened to have walked to the cart return, laughs at my situation, and tells me (tongue in cheek) I shouldn’t be such an invalid.  SHE WALKED TO ME AND AWAY FROM ME JUST FINE.

So, with my new-found ability to park closer and save myself some pain and frustration, you’d think I’d find people who are more considerate of handicapped spots.  They aren’t.  People who obviously do fine without the permit seem to be the majority of handicap space users.  Of the rest who aren’t legitimately using their permit, you find a handful of people who don’t display a tag and walk just fine, or people who don’t bother with the permit at all and park in that space anyway.

The other day we took the family to Costco to grab a few things we needed.  I had the rare opportunity to sit in a wheelchair at the store, which was nice.  But still, little consideration for the big guy in the wheelchair.  I might as well have been half my size, given the way people seemed to notice me.

I’m really sick of it.  Time after time I seem to be treated as if I’m not - or shouldn’t be - there.

I don’t feel like there’s anything karmic going on here.  I usually see people in wheelchairs, little people, and people with disabilities as people, too.  No, I’m not suffering through this because I’m a jerk like many others, I think I’m simply more observant of the fact that many people in my area just don’t give a crap about a person who needs a little extra help to get things done.  If I weren’t a keen observer, and was not experiencing it from this level, I might not have noticed as much.  Sure, I’ve seen people in wheelchairs get snuffed at doors entering stores.  But this is above and beyond.

I’m not invisible, damnit, and you’ve got me close to hitting you with a scooter when you stop suddenly or follow me too closely.  Maybe then you’d see me.  Maybe a crutch to the foot will help you care.

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