(Place on page 56, after para 8..next to last para)
It seemed I got more stares than other folks in wheelchairs. I looked odd because of my short stature. People who are paralyzed may appear "normal" to the casual starer. And some disabilities could be unseen. I stuck out like a sore thumb. I was way too embarrassed to ever wear shorts, even during a blazing hot summer, so when I wore jeans I liked them to cover my feet as well as my legs. So the stares and comments went from "Why do you have tiny legs?" to "Why don't you have feet?" Adults often thought I was an amputee, perhaps from a car accident. I was far too young to have served in the Vietnam War.
Anyway, I didn't have much of a choice but to deal with the stares. I could relate to guys like "The Elephant Man." The scars of fate one could never hide from.
My legs were useless. So why are they there, only to get stared at? I don't know. It's a question I would often ponder from childhood to old age. Not "why can't I walk?" or "why me and OI?" Instead it was always "why are my useless legs here." like a modern day Scarlett Letter for all to see?
Maybe my legs hung around (pardon the pun) for a reason? The answer would become clearer with time.
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