Sometimes I have to carry things. Sometimes those things are heavy. Yes, I have been told that I should not lift things with my affected arm that are over a certain weight but in all honesty, life just doesn't work that way. It doesn't. I have been on a few trips over the past few weeks that required air travel. I don't go anywhere without my laptop. And I do not let my computer out of my sight. So that means that I am tasked with taking care of my own things. In a perfect world that would be normal and make sense. In this crazy post-breast cancer world that I live in... it is a challenge. A really annoying challenge.
I look fine to most people. *extra fine to some really cute men too. :) * So, the expectation is that a healthy young woman who looks to be okay shouldn't have a problem navigating with a computer bag. For the most part, I don't. But... when it comes to lifting said bag repeatedly in and out of cars, up and down stairs and ultimately, over my head into the storage bin on an airplane... all of that movement adds up to a collection of fluid in my arm and my hand. Despite wearing my compression sleeve and using the rollers on my bag as much as possible... I still know that my arm and my hand will swell and create a nuisance for me. The changing altitude of the plane will not help.
I send my apologies to the older lady on my row on the second leg of my flight yesterday who asked me to put her bag in the overhead storage. I sighed loudly while I did it -- was later chastised by my mother for doing it -- but I was annoyed. I know that she asked believing that I was a hippy young chick (she commented that she thought my compression sleeve was a sleeve of tattoos until she saw it up close) who should have not been put off by helping an older person. I was not annoyed by her request but the tone of expectancy surprised me. And the fact that a flight attendant
**yeah, I did it on purpose so that she could see that I wasn't poking my lip out because I was solely a jackass**
I don't know whether or not I'm upset that people assume that I'm okay or that they don't consider that I may not be. I remain astounded that we all (myself included) tend to react towards others with so little compassion. In all honesty, aside from her really long fingernails, I didn't see anything about her that should have prohibited her from putting her own bag overhead. But just like she didn't know my story, I didn't know hers. All I know is that after a night of massaging my arm and my hand and getting some rest... things are better today.
I suppose that's all that I can ask for. I don't really want a bunch of special privileges but I don't know how I could smoothly say to her... well, I'm putting my own health at risk by lifting this heavy bag over my head, to add your heavy bag to the risk seems... well, risky. (laughs) But hey, its okay. My arm survived the flight and the lifting, pulling, dragging... and in a few days, I get to do it all again in reverse.
Oh, the joy!! I see some physical therapy in my future. So, expect to see pictures of me wrapped like a mummy in short order.
