kadioguy
Key Member
- Joined
- Mar 4, 2017
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- Chinese
- Home Country
- Taiwan
- Current Location
- Taiwan
(This article is quoted from Reader's Digest)
Talk to her Like a Person
The wheelchair mechanic knocks at the door. My husband, Justin, answers, and a hefty man wearing steel-toed shoes comes through our kitchen carrying a small tool box. It's 2016 and I'm in the living room, strapping orthotics on my five year old, Fiona. The mechanic stands beside her empty wheelchair, which is waiting in the dining room.
"Do you need anything from us?" I call out, pulling the laces of her shoe tight. "Just the passenger," he says gruffly. I hurry, and when Fiona is all laced up, I lift her to her feet and send her over. In a thump-thump rhythm of deliberate, confident steps, she walks to her wheelchair, a lean, glimmering machine custom made for her. She almost never uses it now that she walks, but when she needed it once this past year, her legs looked cramped. So the mechanic will tweak it.
He looks down past his belly to my one-metre-tall child. Although Fiona eats her weight in cheese, she's very thin and a head shorter than kids her age. "Hi there," he says in a pitch usually reserved for chihuahuas. I get up from the carpet. I'm going to have to do the thing. It's a thing I don't always even realise I'm doing in the moment, and yet I'm compelled to do it with regularity. I'm going to have to show someone that Fiona understands, that she's not a dog but a human.
.
.
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Fiona and I have been visiting a lot of doctors and specialists lately. They demand chunks of time (sometimes full days), they cost petrol ( sometimes a half tank) and they cause stress ( sometimes immeasurable) as my husband and I figure out the logistics of who will pick up whom, and when and where; we also have a three-year old daughter. But they also cost the energy that goes into subtly advocating for Fiona. It's a bullet point in my job description.
.
.
.
The worst instance was a few weeks ago at another appointment. A doctor was assessing one of my daughter’s medical issues. She gazed down at Fiona, who stood directly in front of her, returning the gaze. Even though this doctor looked at my daughter, she still spoke to me. “I mean,” she started, “she’s a small, thin, weak…” Person, I thought. Say “person”. But instead the doctor said, “thing.”
.
.
.
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As we can see, the red parts are in the present tense while the blue parts are in the past tense. I am not sure why. The red parts even happened a longer time ago. What do you think?
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(Source)
https://i.imgur.com/2chk7Jl.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/Eq7c0hN.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/NiUTgL3.jpg
Talk to her Like a Person
The wheelchair mechanic knocks at the door. My husband, Justin, answers, and a hefty man wearing steel-toed shoes comes through our kitchen carrying a small tool box. It's 2016 and I'm in the living room, strapping orthotics on my five year old, Fiona. The mechanic stands beside her empty wheelchair, which is waiting in the dining room.
"Do you need anything from us?" I call out, pulling the laces of her shoe tight. "Just the passenger," he says gruffly. I hurry, and when Fiona is all laced up, I lift her to her feet and send her over. In a thump-thump rhythm of deliberate, confident steps, she walks to her wheelchair, a lean, glimmering machine custom made for her. She almost never uses it now that she walks, but when she needed it once this past year, her legs looked cramped. So the mechanic will tweak it.
He looks down past his belly to my one-metre-tall child. Although Fiona eats her weight in cheese, she's very thin and a head shorter than kids her age. "Hi there," he says in a pitch usually reserved for chihuahuas. I get up from the carpet. I'm going to have to do the thing. It's a thing I don't always even realise I'm doing in the moment, and yet I'm compelled to do it with regularity. I'm going to have to show someone that Fiona understands, that she's not a dog but a human.
.
.
.
Fiona and I have been visiting a lot of doctors and specialists lately. They demand chunks of time (sometimes full days), they cost petrol ( sometimes a half tank) and they cause stress ( sometimes immeasurable) as my husband and I figure out the logistics of who will pick up whom, and when and where; we also have a three-year old daughter. But they also cost the energy that goes into subtly advocating for Fiona. It's a bullet point in my job description.
.
.
.
The worst instance was a few weeks ago at another appointment. A doctor was assessing one of my daughter’s medical issues. She gazed down at Fiona, who stood directly in front of her, returning the gaze. Even though this doctor looked at my daughter, she still spoke to me. “I mean,” she started, “she’s a small, thin, weak…” Person, I thought. Say “person”. But instead the doctor said, “thing.”
.
.
.
-----------
As we can see, the red parts are in the present tense while the blue parts are in the past tense. I am not sure why. The red parts even happened a longer time ago. What do you think?
-----------
(Source)
https://i.imgur.com/2chk7Jl.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/Eq7c0hN.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/NiUTgL3.jpg
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