My Good Life: Yes, I cane

I am now a member of the cane club. No, not people who like candy canes, but people who walk with a cane.

A knee surgery and other complications made using a cane necessary. It is not easy to turn from someone who was physically active, who loved to dance, who was involved in various sports, into someone no longer able to do those things.

But what is more difficult than the loss of some mobility is how I am sometimes seen by others. I can see differences in the way people act around me compared with when I did not use a cane. I see people do a quick glance and then avert their eyes. Being disabled does not mean I am a different person. I have all the cognitive abilities I had before. I still am able to participate in many events, learning and other activities. I am just not able to walk as fast as I once did.

It's different when I meet other members of the cane club. We immediately connect.

We smile at one another and have some idea of what the other person is experiencing. Any physical disability that one may have, whether it is recent or long-term, does not warrant one's being treated or thought of as less than someone who does not have a physical disability. We disabled people just have more obstacles to navigate.

For me, it is OK if someone asks me what happened. In fact, I would rather have someone ask than not. One time a little girl came up to me and said, "Why do you need a cane?" I told her about the knee surgery. She was upfront and, I felt, was just curious. I was glad she asked me. I did not feel offended.

I grieve for losing the ability to do some things, but now I have the opportunity to test my strengths and look at new things I can do. I cannot dance, but I still love rhythm. So I took up drumming. I met some really wonderful people — people I would never have met if I was without the cane. I have more patience than before and truly feel a connection with people I may never have thought about in the past. I have discovered who my true friends are vs. those who may feel uncomfortable around me or impatient with me.

I choose which one to use according to my mood. Sometimes when people see the different styles and pictures on my canes, they tell me they think about getting one for themselves and calling it a walking stick.

Sometimes what we think may be a negative event in our lives turns out to be an opportunity to reevaluate our beliefs and our abilities. My disability is minor compared with those many others have. I am in awe of people who have become strong and accomplished great things, despite physical or ­mental ­challenges.

No one is without some form of disability. Some we can see; others can be hidden. Being imperfect, whatever that means, is an equal-opportunity concept. It's also a chance to realize that all of us can contribute to society in many ways. We need not be coddled or looked at as any less able.

So I continue to focus on what I can do, not on what I cannot do. I hope that others see me the same way, and that others who struggle with their own disabilities do the same.