Wow! I never expected so warm a response with my blogging about disability. It just goes to show that I am my own worst critic. That’s typical, I guess. I really appreciate everyone’s feedback and support. I don’t want to put a big handicapped parking sign on my blog, but, at the same time, my disability is becoming a larger part of my life. It affects my worldview, my perceptions of other people and, for better or for worse, my relationship with God. I guess it’s only right that I make it a part of my blog as well.

There’s a certain dehumanization that comes with disability. It is especially acute if you have to deal with the government. If you want to claim disability benefits, you must first prove you are disabled. As I am finding out, proving something like this to the government can take months… or years. You must divulge everything about your life to someone you’ve never met before who likely views you as just another case. Your medical history is cross checked and verified. You wait three to five months to find out if you’re one of the lucky 60 percent who get accepted the first time. There are, I kid you not, disability lawyers who make their living suing the government to get people on disability. They work on contingency, so if you do win, you get part of what you’re really owed by the government. Welcome to the system.

Last week, I went to get evaluated as required by Social Security. In this case, it was a mental evaluation. Don’t ask me why. I just wish they’d loosen these straps a little bit.

The doctor asked the normal questions (I guess) about how my disability is affecting me. Then he began to ask some startlingly simple questions, like, “What city are you in?” and “Where is Brazil located?” One of the first questions was, “Who is the President of the United States?” I almost answered, “John Kerry,” but for some reason, I thought he’d take me seriously.

It can be a frustrating, even nerve-wracking experience. What troubles me is that all this extra effort is required because someone else thought they could cheat the system. They figured they could get the government to pay them for lying around when they were perfectly healthy. Now, legitimately disabled people like me have to pay the price of their stupidity.

On top of all this, it adds to the emotional and psychological burden. Some of us must go through the process of telling friends and family and even coworkers that we’re disabled and unable to participate in normal life in one way or another, like hobbies or, more importantly, earning a living. I will write more about this later. I'll close with one quote that's very relevant.

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