Not all disabilities are visible.
Look!” says my friend, waving an official-looking square of plastic at me. “I don’t have to queue anymore…
She sees my confusion so elaborates further. She applied online to a scheme for the disabled, sending in her ADHD diagnosis – the one she also got online – and her arthritis diagnosis – her wrists hurt – and some money, of course, and now she has a card saying she can skip the queue.
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Special treatment
“It means WE don’t need to queue anymore. It works at…” and she names a few venues that have opted into the programme; places we sometimes go to for events or gigs.
So what does that make me then? Her caregiver?
Regardless, now we two able-bodied, middle-aged white women can join the wheelchairs, the blind, the autistic, the ancient, the terminally ill and those on a day out from their special needs’ homes and get in ahead of the hoi polloi.
Not all disabilities are visible
Yes, I know not all disabilities are visible, but I didn’t realise “Karen” was one of them. It’s impressive.
And I think of another friend of mine in the USwho has debilitating physical issues, meaning she cannot walk far at all. I don’t know if she has a disability badge for that, but she does have documentation for something else: an emotional support dog.
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Her “service animal” is her pet chihuahua – like a tiny bouncer – who gets to go on planes and to restaurants with her because no-one questions her frankly made-up need to have her dog at her side.
Also, he’s cute, so only a curmudgeon would complain, and then, voila! – he has papers, you monster!
Easy way to get a service animal
And where did she get his paperwork? Online, of course. It’s a great sideline for (possibly unscrupulous) doctors: you just upload info, offload cash and there you have it – your dog is now a service animal.
Or indeed your cat, your goldfish or whatever else you choose. Several years ago The New Yorker ran a hilarious article in which journalist Patty Marx took various dubious newly inducted service animals around the city, including an officially sanctioned pig, a turkey and even an alpaca.
Back in reality, my friend and I are attending an event together this Friday, which means the first public airing of her new special needs’ status.
And I have only one question: will it let us jump the queue for the loo?
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