Blue-badge bandits are in my sights
I hear a lot at the moment about disabled badges, writes blogger Emma Suddaby, who herself suffers from aggressive, destructive rheumatoid arthritis.
I hear a lot at the moment about disabled badges,
, who herself suffers from aggressive, destructive rheumatoid arthritis.
I even heard a debate on the radio in which someone suggested there is a wave of 'badge envy' sweeping the country.
Badge envy? Standing in my shoes (or rather, hobbling, in them) the suggestion that someone would wish for a Blue Badge is unbelievable.
I think partly, the problem is people have lost trust in the authorities' ability to sniff out fraudulent applicants, and so suspect healthy-looking badge-holders.
I rarely use mine, precisely because of this 'badge envy', if that's what it is, and the vigilante 'car-park judges'.
If I go into town, I've no choice but to use them - I simply can't walk into the centre. But anywhere else - supermarkets especially - it's just not worth the aggro.
For instance, take my local supermarket: I pop in every day for last-minute bits, and nearly every time I go I see someone park, without badges, in the disabled space, while they run to the cashpoint. I've never seen anyone confront them about their actions.
Yesterday, I had a bad day and walking was very painful (though you wouldn't have noticed, had you been watching, I try hard not to limp), so I parked in the disabled bay, badges clearly displayed on the dash. I didn't even have time to lock the doors before a shopper came rushing up, demanding to know if I was aware I was parked in a disabled bay . . .
Thing is, I understand her frustration; it annoys the hell out of me to see fit, healthy people showing total ingratitude for the blessing of their working limbs by parking in these bays. But, when I see it, I bully the shop manager into doing his job and confronting the illegal parker. I wouldn't harangue someone, just because they don't fit my idea of disability.
The giveaway is the badge. If someone has a disabled badge, with their name on it, then you can be pretty sure they are actually disabled, and have had to prove it.
And, let's get this clear, disabled people don't always drag one leg and dribble. Sometimes, we look quite normal!
My hands are too deformed to use a stick, and my elbow replacement wouldn't take the strain, but you wouldn't know that, as I hide my hands a lot and my elbows are covered by my sleeves . . . see, things aren't always so black and white, are they?
So next time you see someone who looks the picture of health, parking in a disabled bay, check they have badges before you jump to conclusions.
And if they don't, go and tell the shop manager and get them dealt with properly.
Maybe then I could use my badges as they were intended, to give me the same chances in going out and living my life, as those with working bodies enjoy, instead of feeling too intimidated by the quick judgements of others.
Inspirational Emma Suddaby shares her highs, lows - and various murky places inbetween - with her weekly blog. Emma, a finalist in the 2007 Shropshire Star Woman of the Year competition, was diagnosed with aggressive, destructive rheumatoid arthritis at the age of 22. She has since won a dream flying scholarship with the charity Flying Scholarships for the Disabled and is now training for a National Private Pilots Licence.