Braced.

I walked into the Queen Alexandria Spasticity and Orthotics Clinic, in Victoria yesterday. The sights and sounds, made memories flood back. Its been at least thirty years since I've walked through the doors of such a place. Walking the same checkered Linoleum hallway again and again as professionals with clipboards watched me walk. The only difference from my years at the Rehabilitation Institute of Orange County  and CHOC in California and yesterday is they asked me the questions.

Do you fall a lot?

Is climbing stairs painful?

Do you fatigue quickly?

YES.

Then came the options for support:

I was expecting something cute, maybe with flamingos, what they brought out was this....

Its called the Blue Rocker. "Do the shoes come in VELCRO?!?!" I ask, not sure if they caught the inflection.

I've never been a vain person but suddenly I felt like a Kardashiam in a thrift shop.

Seriously. How am I supposed to keep my disability with those on the down low?  Those are going to look absolutely sexy next summer in my booty shorts. 

I wanted to cry. 30 years and here we meet again. One can run from nothing in life. Or in my case walk swiftly praying my face doesn't hit the pavement. The Dr and Orthotist left the room and my tears flowed..."braces: you're just looking for attention, Robin" the thoughts in my head racing...All those years of hiding this as a kid and I paid a high price emotionally and physically. 

Finding validation is cathartic. Have prayers answered helps my faith even when the answers make me look like Inspector Gadget and the Iron Giant had a baby.  Accepting a visible reality of being disabled will take time.  

It will take a month or two to get everything made and sorted, so I'll have time to have a proper funeral and send off for my beloved VANS collection.