Contact

Another Carnival over, and I really felt enlivened and informed by some of the posts out there on contact. It was a clever choice, deliberately vague so as to prompt a vast array of different perspectives.

Bobby and Wheelchair Dancer wrote with force and feeling on how your own family's attitudes to disability, and reaction to your own disability, can really mess with your head. I related to much of what they said, especially the overwhelming sense of frustration, anger and determination that an independent life will go on, with or without understanding and support.
Kay and Mark considered how socialising, contact with others, has been shaped by their experience of disability. Mark wrote about his wish that he could meet up more often with people who can understand and share where he's coming from 'in a world that is entirely too normal'. I feel cut off at times too, in fact a lot of the time, but am finding writing here offers contact of a different but nonetheless very nurturing sort.
David wrote a quite beautiful post about Meredith, and how...actually I'm not even going to try to recount it, he captured it so perfectly I would spoil it. Just read it.
Thirza and Book Girl share my defensiveness and need for self protection when encountering the medical profession. I hate nearly all doctors these days, and have concluded that the only person who can sort your head out is you. There can be guidance with the physical side of disability, whether it's therapy, physio, pain management, and all that jazz. But no one can force you to a place of acceptance before your time, or mould your reaction to what is your own unique experience. This is somewhat stating the obvious. But I have spent a long time in not-blissful ignorance of quite obvious things. I am radically reducing the time I spend being 'messed with' medically. It's called taking the reins.
Thanks to those who wrote lovely things about my post.