Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho

by Dean Kramer
March, 2003


The past few months have been extremely stressful for all the denizens of Cripple Creek. We’ve had a way snowy winter. Even with two drive motors my scooter can’t do much in three feet of snow so I am often confined indoors. Two of our dogs are short-legged and have been finding it difficult to do their “whatever” outside. Twink is a teacher and schools have been closed a lot. She’s afraid she’ll be making up lost days until half the summer is gone. With the bad weather we’ve all (two people and four dogs) been cooped up in our two room cabin gritting our teeth while practicing charitable thinking toward others. To top things off, my elderly friend Sue, who has appeared in this column before, finally passed away in mid-January. I miss her every day. And that’s the bad news.

Sue had been like family to me and, because she knew my MS kept me from being able to work full-time, had made provision for me in the event of her death. Thus I am entitled to continue to live here at Cripple Creek as the property has been placed in a trust for my use. However, I suddenly found it necessary to begin to work outside the home on a regular basis so as to earn a regular income.

Out of the work force for ten years, when employed I’d held jobs requiring more physical coordination and stamina than are now mine. I’d been a landscape designer, had worked in a printing bindery, and had trained dogs. Though I wondered what I could do now, I was sure I could find some sort of work. I initially set my sites on the job of greeter at Wal-Mart. They hire folks with disabilities who work from scooters or powerchairs. But Wal-Mart wasn’t hiring. Then one day at my local mobility supply store I overheard the owner’s wife complaining about how busy she was. “Say! How about hiring me?” I offered.

“Are you serious?” she asked, and I said I surely was.

In short order I was hired. I now get paid by the hour to play with and sell mobility products in the showroom and, additionally, to do some paperwork. I’m working 27 hours each week but this is flexible as we all discover what kind of energy MS allows me. I have a choice of several scooters and powerchairs to ride around the showroom floor. Naturally, the place is accessible. There’s an employee discount on products, and my employer not only understands but is truly supportive of the disabled in employment. When warm weather returns I am going to be helping run a powerchair and scooter “driving school,” teaching customers how to handle their chairs and scooters over all kinds of terrain and obstacles. I feel incredibly blessed to have found such a wonderful place to work. And that’s the good news.

Someone reviewing “Life on Cripple Creek” asked me recently whether I attribute my relative good adjustment to disability to a low stress life in an idyllic setting. Sometimes, in writing this column, I’ve also wondered if I was just typing hot air—think positively and yada-yada-yada. If my life was thrown into chaos would I be able to maintain my usual hopeful outlook? Had I, in fact, been living an idyllic life far removed from the nitty-gritty concerns of the disabled majority? Conventional wisdom would say that MS is a bad thing, no two ways about it. But there are two ways—at least two ways, about anything.

My life has been anything but low in stress since Sue’s final illness took over our lives in October. And, though definitely tired at the end of each working day, I am getting accustomed to the requirements of my job and finding it easier each week to apportion my energy usefully. In the past, experience had shown me that my attitude was, perhaps, the most important factor influencing my perception, my feelings and my health. In my present situation this has once again proven to be the case. A positive attitude led me to recognize an employment opportunity when it stood before me, gave me the confidence to negotiate excellent terms for myself, and convinced my employers that I would be an asset to their business.

I have had to work very consciously at this outlook. I am more naturally inclined to feeling deprived, disappointed, and resentful. I was once the kind of woman who, sentenced to be hung, would complain about the quality of the rope used to weave the noose. MS would have been a perfect excuse for indulging these responses. After my diagnosis I practiced denial for a few years.

After denial I indulged in fear, bitterness and self-pity. And, after a few years of those, I saw that I had to save my own life. Gratitude and optimism are now my choices each day. They heal me. They keep me awake to the possibilities for goodness in my life. I highly recommend them. Gratitude and optimism, tempered with prudence, are not always easy, and I am always not perfectly centered there, but, for me, they always pay off. That’s good news, too. And, off to work I go!