Skip to main content


Stupidity is not a disease, but they're too stupid to know

While sitting in the Philadelphia airport on the way to my first European adventure I almost lost my poop all over two old farts sitting near me. Now I didn't literally lose my poop on them, which is a real possibility as anyone with Crohns knows (when I had my bag I disgustingly threatened that more than I would like to admit). Back on point...I had just been placed into the handicapped sitting from my wheelchair when two moronic twats came wheeling up near me. They sat up, thanked the attendants, and got into their own handicapped seats. At first I thought, "Holy Crap how can two disabled people go on a vacation together? That is amazing!" Then I quickly realized that not only were they not even slightly handicapped, they were con artists. They had a very cute poodle/terrier mix with them and when two other old coots asked how they could travel with their dog they explained that they had made him an emotional therapy dog because they didn't want to travel without him or have him go through customs.

Now I LOVE my dog and he truly is an emotional therapy dog. I got him when it became hard for me to get out of bed every morning and the moment he entered my life that all changed, I don't hop out like Dick Van Dyke, but I'm more spry with a slight spring in my step. However, that WAS NOT this dog. They explained in detail that he was just their pet and they had paid for all of the paperwork. He was in no way a trained therapy dog. Then as they ended their conversation with the people that were now considering doing this illegal and immoral act to their dog, they both rose from their seats and walked to the bathroom. PERFECTLY. There was not a damn thing wrong with either of them. Now I understand that most of the time when I am not walking hunched over like Quasimodo after failed back surgery or using a cane or walker I look perfectly fine.  Better than fine because let's be honest I am adorable, but I can usually spot another internally diseased individual. They have the eyes of a pained warrior, think Scar without the vendetta. These two had been through nothing. Eyes and hearts clear as the mother fucking sky.

That's when the rage set in. My mother and others repeatedly ask, beg, plead with me to register as disabled. I refuse. The reason is two fold. One that would be admitting that I am disabled which is basically like giving Crohns the win. I am not a pussy and give in when things get rough...Lebron! Two is that these stupid pieces of lard have turned disability into a stigma. Now when people think of someone who is "on disability" they think of a fat, lazy bastard sitting in his double wide watching Jerry Springer and collecting a monthly check. Maybe they are morbidly obese (which is not only curable, but preventable) or have Diabetes 2/back injury brought on from the previous ailment, or someone that got in a planned accident to stop working and live the "easy" life. No one thinks of it as a way to support those that cannot support themselves due to a horrific accident or disease or illness where they have no control.

If it was not for my father there was no way I could keep a steady job. I am forced to work at home and have to take many days off. Those jobs are not available to the masses of our country or it would go into free fall. So I would have had no choice, but to claim disability. And there is no way to tell people what you do for a living and not have that be a defining trait. Let's be honest, if you know a stripper you pretend you don't in public and never share a drink with her. No matter how nice she may be. I would have rather admitted that I sometimes poop my pants then claim I'm on disability. Both disgusting and embarrassing. And would definitely never get me married.

I understand that there will always be people trying to get around the system or scam their way into free money. I am not an idiot or a naive politician. Unfortunately people like this were not killed out through Darwinism because life is unfair. And even though I know one person can't change the culture of our society I hope that there will be a (nonviolent) revolution soon where greedy disrespectful swine are knocked down to the level they deserve.


Popular posts from this blog

I'm back

I've lost so many months. I know that sounds odd. How can someone lose months? Easily, time flies when you are chronically ill. I know that sounds odd.
Hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, on and on until one day you realize it's March and you have been hospital sick since October. What the actual flying fuck? I missed winter again. That's twice in 3 years. I lost summer before that...5 years ago.
5 years ago I had to give up my dreams, quit my job, and start contemplating Plan B. I didn't know what the hell Plan B was (my plan, not the pill...phew, what a lifesaver in college). Now, I'm sitting here trying to figure out what Plan F could possibly entail and I can't believe how many seasons I've lost.
I've been sick since I was 10. For years I was wrapped in a blanket in the basement watching Charmed and Sabrina (I thought I was a witch for awhile, not Wiccan, a real magical witch who could control waves. It was a rough time.) At 16 came the blee…

Failure is not an Option

Friday afternoon- sitting in the passenger side of mom's red infiniti sports car on the way to Wegman's. We had just left my 2 1/2 hour long allergy appointment, I called my GI doctor's nurse.

"Hello. This is Gabrielle Rosenfeld. I am returning your call"

"Hi, Ms. Rosenfeld. We got your blood work back and I can't really say anything until a doctor looks at them, but, well..."

(5 minute conversation about my GI doctor's upcoming wedding and then back to business)

"I can't say anything right now. but the Humira levels and antibodies. It's nothing bad. Don't concern yourself. I will tell you on Monday or Tuesday, once they have a chance to read them."

"Great. Thanks."

(After 14 years, you know where this is heading...your body struck again. You know that all the hope and positive thinking in the fucking verse won't change your body. You know that whenever you try to get healthy your body goes on the defensive. {In…


On Thursday I went numb. On Friday I went crazy. They stole my humor.  24 hours without a word from a doctor, the last one I saw told me that he didn't think I was having a stroke, but he'll go talk to his attendings and be back in a couple hours. 24 hours nurses and techs tried to get ahold of a doctor and each time they were dismissed and ignored. 24 hours I sat in a hospital bed wondering what I had done to deserve this, what I had done to be treated like a divorcee begging for her husband to come home and explain why. All I wanted was to talk and ask them a question, all I wanted was to be treated like an equal. They may have spent half their life in medical school, but I spent half my life fighting this disease. We are both experts in the field of Crohns.

My last hospitalization in November and December was two parts I've broken down into parts A and B. I agreed to be admitted to the hospital, begrudgingly, because I had no appetite or thirst. I was in excruciating pai…