I have an odd relationship with my temporary disabled parking pass.
On the one hand, two weeks out from my hip surgery, it’s very useful. Because disabled parking spaces have a good buffer of space on the sides of my car, it allows me to swing my door wide open, making it much easier to get out of the car. It also allows me to park closer to store entrances, making it easy to get to the shopping carts so I don’t need a cane. Finally, it gets me outside more, running errands more, and moving more, simply because I don’t have to worry about finding parking.
On the other hand, it reminds me—for just the time being, I hope—I have a disability. Even though I have needed a cane for walking for over two years, now, because of my disabled parking pass, it feels much more public; now it feels like I am making an announcement: “Look at me, I am disabled.”
Having a disabled parking pass makes me feel relieved and guilty at the same time.
And that’s the crux of the situation. Human emotions are complex, even towards such a benign tool as a disabled parking pass, and it’s probably best that I simply accept this love/hate relationship and use it as an opportunity to learn something about myself.