(from Mirrored Reflections: misspurpleladyonwheels.blogspot.com)

My experience this morning was like no other. When bus drivers unhook the wheelchair restraints, they tell me, “You are free.” Each time, my wheelchair becomes free to take me to places that are not confining. I am free to get dressed up to go into the workforce. I am free to buy that tiny little piece of candy. I am free to go out and preach my current situation for others to read through words.

This is the fiftieth anniversary of the pill. This is my tribute to the pill. I am thankful for the pill keeping me out of severe pain for months. I am not thankful that my former OB/GYN felt that the only symptom I suffered from was depression and the only logical avenue was to hook me up with the nearest ADI-accredited service dog program. I believe my blood clots began to form around that time period.

I celebrate fifty years of the pill tonight. I don’t celebrate the Playboy-looking swimmers around a pool as seen in birth control commercials. I celebrate living. I celebrate clapping as Oklahoma State Question 744 failed to pass. I celebrate being able to listen to homeless people talk about their challenges of living on the streets. I celebrate being able to share seven months of marriage to my handsome husband. I celebrate adopting a well-mannered and housetrained tiny rescue dog.

As of today I celebrate being an employed woman. What the pill stole from my life, a hysterectomy gave back. Having a hysterectomy has allowed me to not feel restrained to tie holds. I am able to search my past and find out what my dreams were before my path began to have small forks in the road. I began college at East Central University to become one thing: an editor of either a newspaper or a magazine dealing with physical disabilities.

This morning as I dressed up in a layered velvet long sleeved dress shirt, black slacks, tan hose, and nice gold dress shoes, I thought back to one of the geek winners on the CW’s “Beauty & the Geek.” I also thought of my American Idol crush, David Cook, from season seven when he won. Even though I have not won on a reality show, I feel that way.

While living in Ada, Oklahoma, one day (out of the blue) I called the local army reserved station to see about a possible employment opportunity. The place did not hire people with disabilities. What position did this person think I was applying for? I knew good well I was not physically able to crawl under small caves in a foreign country. I knew I could not carry a heavy gun. All I wanted to do would have been something computer related. such as data entry.

I was given the approval to find a data entry job as of today through Vocational Rehabilitation Services. I chose that position for this simple fact: I knew I could do it. I knew how to create a spreadsheet to do research and keep records with. I knew how to organize files. I knew how to copy, fax, and send memos out. I knew how to edit and proofread. I also knew how to write articles and submit them.

Tonight I am able to celebrate having new job avenues. One of the responsibilities involved is knowing how to dress professional. That includes head to toe. Reminds me of the childhood song, “Head, shoulders, knees, and toes.” My hair needs to be dyed auburn and trimmed. I need to buy a professional black or navy brown suit, a few different colored chemises, elastic slacks, a professional coat, and undergarments, With having a new look and a wonderful employer, why worry about which company or agency did not take advantage of the chance of hiring a driven woman? I sure don’t!

I am always aware that I am a woman before having the (often times mind-boggling) role of a “physically disabled woman“ I was born into that role and today I was able to convince my Vocational Rehabilitation counselor to set me free of a role almost every person with a physical and/or mental disability is stereotyped with. To be quite frank, it’s not always to be strong and think positive about equal opportunity employment when businesses give nothing except rejection. Our bodies reek of normalcy while society throws eggs at the disabled part. With the two forces each puling heavily on a person., where is a person supposed to fit into in the employment world?

I am thankful for the pill for one reason. Since the pill gave me blood clots, I was then able to convince an empathetic doctor to help solve my problem. For eight years this same problem held me back from being free. A year and a half ago when I was referred to the womens center for my persistent problem, I did not want my pain to be prolonged. Once, the doctor prescribed chewable childrens Tylenol to help ease my pain. I wound up in the emergency room a month before I moved. On the way home, my husband and I stopped by the women's center. The doctor's nurse came out to speak with us. I requested a copy of my files to take with me. I had strong faith that I would be referred to a really good OB/GYN. I knew back then that my body needed some parts taken out in order for me to be productive in the workforce. I wanted to have a steady occupation in order to have a good reference.

That goal has come true today with the unconditional support from my job coach. My job coach has stuck by my side for an entire year. There was always hope and encouragement during both bad times and good times. That love is something my husband and I are both thankful to God for.