Needing Help

I’ve had back problems for about six years now but it’s been significantly debilitating for the last six or nine months or so.  For the first time in my life, I’ve felt physically disabled.  Oh, I’ve been mentally disabled, or mentally ill, for most of my life.  But it’s an invisible disability, at least most of the time.  

Of course, back pain is invisible, too.  But the things I cannot do because of my back pain are visible.  For instance, it’s visible when I have to slowly and awkwardly lower myself into the seat at a restaurant.  It’s visible when it takes me three tries to reach into the cart at the grocery store to pick up an item and place it on the belt to be rung up.  It’s visible when I am at the vet’s office and holding my cat on my lap and it takes me multiple tries to get to my feet because my back hurts so much and I don’t have my hands free to help push myself to a standing position.  And when those things happen, I find myself worrying what people will think.

Then there are the things I cannot do.  Recently I went grocery shopping, which is something at one point not too long ago I vowed not to do alone anymore because it caused me so much pain.  That day, by the time I had all my items in my cart, I was nauseous from the pain.  By the time I was bagging up my purchases, I was holding back the tears.  When I finally made it to my car and had my groceries stowed in the back seat, I sat in the front seat and sobbed.

Despite my vow, I went grocery shopping alone a few days ago.  I only wanted to pick up a few things and I thought that I could do it.  However, I kept finding items that I wanted that were on low shelves where I could not reach them.  For instance, I wanted to purchase a 32-ounce container of Greek yogurt, but it was on the bottom shelf.  I made one half-hearted attempt, then decided there was no way I was going to be able to pick that up.  Instead, I had to settle for two 16-ounce containers, which were on a high shelf.  It cost more than one dollar more to buy the yogurt that way.  Then there were the protein bars I wanted, also on the bottom shelf.  I decide to just skip those altogether.  But I found myself holding back tears as I made my way to the register.

I could have asked for help.  Store employees would have helped me pick up the items I couldn’t reach.  I know that.  Of course, there were no employees around when I realized I needed help.  But I could have gone in search of someone.  In fact, if a customer requires a lot of assistance shopping, an employee will go through the whole store with them.  I know that.  I used to work for a man that was quadriplegic and he would go grocery shopping alone in his power wheelchair.  As soon as he got to the store, he would go right to the customer service desk and ask for someone to shop with him.  The employee would push the cart and pick up the items he requested.  He told me the employees usually loved that job because it was something different and more interesting than standing at a register.  But I didn’t want to ask for help.

I don’t like needing help.  I feel embarrassed.  I don’t know why.  Having a herniated disc that causes severe pain is not really something to be embarrassed about.  It’s not something I choose to have.  I don’t have it because I did anything wrong.  But I still feel embarrassed and I still don’t want to ask for help.  I want to be able to shop for myself like a “normal person.”

For some reason, I don’t believe that I’ll feel embarrassed about having a service dog to help me.  Maybe it’s because I won’t have to ask anyone else to help me and I won’t feel like I’m bothering anyone else or being a burden.  My service dog will like helping me.  My dog will not be able to pick up a 32-ounce container of yogurt for me; it will be too heavy and there will be no easy way to get a grip on it.  My dog could be trained to pick up the protein bars for me, though.  Beyond that, my dog can help me cope with the stress and anxiety I feel when I need help and have to ask for it.