A few months ago, I emailed the gent at work who uses the wheelchair stay to change into workout clothes each day.
Even though you ask me, I wrote, my disability is such that I cannot tell from minute to minute when I will need to go to the bathroom. Therefore, asking me is pointless, so please stop using the stall.
After I sent it, I felt three emotions.
I was proud I stood up for myself, although I was annoyed it took me who long. I was also annoyed because this guy should know better. And I was annoyed that I have Friedreich's ataxia and its plethora of bodily failures. Lastly, I was embarrassed I had to share one of those bodily failures with a co-worker to get hm not to do something he should not do anyway.
But it worked.
Until recently.
Once, he overheard my boss and I planning a meeting, so he came over and said, Since you'll be in a meeting, I'm going to use the stall to change. Another time, he saw me leaving the stall and said, Can I use it then?
Pretty clearly, he didn't get it. And I am quite certain he uses the stall when I am not in. I get that I am the only gut in chair, but that doesn't mean it's OK. He has no business using a wheelchair stall.
He came up to me today and said, Mind if I use the wheelchair stall, five minutes?
I looked at him and replied, Didn't I send you that email?
A long time ago, he answered.
I fought the urge to say, "Not cured yet, dude!" I merely said the "one minute to the next" thing.
He said OK and came back all changed and said, I just thought five minutes would be OK.
Again, I resisted an urge to yell, "MINUTE BY MINUTE," and didn't really respond.
Maybe my sister needs to talk to him. My work sister is itching to.
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2 comments:
Maybe we could both have a chat with him. He might quit afterward though.
or cry
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