I don’t know why, but a certain conversation I had with my physical therapist last week

has been bothering me.

I guess because I like my physical therapist. I truly do. I wasn’t sure if I would at first because when I first met her she made all these assumptions and it kind of rubbed me the wrong way. She thought I was much younger than I am, which would be a bit more understandable if she didn’t have access to my chart with my BIRTHDATE. I know I don’t look 30, but I am.

She asked me what school I went to.

I didn’t know what to say. I’ve been to so many schools. I sputtered. “Which one?”

“High school.”

“Oh, Mountain View.” (Even though I graduated 13 years ago.)

“Did you do any adaptive sports there?” she demanded.

By this point I was so confused I had no idea how to answer. I hadn’t been in a wheelchair in high school. I had never even heard of adaptive sports. I didn’t even take a single PE course while in high school. I got out of the requirement by taking strenuous academic classes. Plus, high school was 13 years ago for me. Why was this crazy lady asking me this stuff?

“I wasn’t in a chair in high school,” I finally said.

Now she looked surprised.

I’m 30,” I added.

“Oh, I thought you were 20. You look 20. I used to work for the school district, so I asked,” she said sheepishly.

I was annoyed.

The next times I had with her were better. We started to talk. She really is a wonderful person. I found her to be competent and smart. And a good mother. She has 2 girls in high school and she loves them fiercely.

I let her mother me too.

Maybe that’s the problem.

This week we were talking insurance. I am on Medicaid. Something I completely abhor. I am glad I am taken care of health insurance-wise, but it still is hard. Relying on the government for anything just doesn’t seem like a good idea. I’m afraid to make any money or do anything to help myself for fear of losing my insurance. And I can’t pay for anything myself if my insurance doesn’t deem it worthy enough to cover. For instance, they only cover one chair, my electric one. I’m always sneaking around, feeling like a criminal, to pay for repairs on my manual chair, which I need for travel and car trips, or visiting other houses without ramps. I really want to get off Medicaid. I want to get real insurance – a real job.

I didn’t get a Masters degree to NOT get a job. A good job.

So I tell this all to my physical therapist (well, everything but the good job part). I tell her I just applied for a job at Clark (the local community college here). Her first reaction?\

“You mean, at the library?”

Everyone thinks I should work in a library because I am always reading. Libraries are cool, but I don’t want to work in one. The Dewey decimal system doesn’t turn me on.

I don’t want to work in a library. Yes, I like to read. I like to watch movies too, but it doesn’t mean I want to catalog them. Ugh.

But really, that assumption didn’t bother me.

“No,” I shook my head. “Its in the financial aid office.”

“Oh. For minimum wage?”

WTH? Yep, this is where I am annoyed. Minimum wage? Does this woman know how much wheelchairs cost? Doctor visits? Tests? She is a PT for heaven’s sake! How in the hell am I supposed to support myself on minimum wage? Was she even listening to me when I told her I want to support myself?

Not to mention, I have a Master’s. Was she implying that me, in my disabled state, am only worth minimum wage? I am not dumb. I know society sees me as not being worth anything. I see it when people don’t look me in the eye. Or treat me like I am dumb. Or talk to me likr I’m a child.

Ugh.

I guess I can’t blame her too much; she did work as a PT for the <a href=”http://forums.somd.com/news-current-events/17000-parents-outraged-special-ed-kids-used-janitors.htmlEE”>Evergreen School District</a>. They are horrid about disabilities. I am glad nobody knew I was disabled there. Time to teach her. ”Um, no. This job has a max pay scale off 88K a year. Of course, I don’t expect that. I’d be happy with 40,” I said.

I hope she learns NOT to assume.