Melvin & Me, Part 38: a...Fan?

So, I had a delightful first the other day.  

I was forming a new acquaintance at work.  While we were talking in a relatively calm moment, Melvin made a triumphant BLURB-BLURBLEBLURBLURB under my shirt.  I threw my hand over my side to muffle the sound, as I usually do.  "Ah, sorry, that's just my ostomy," I explained.  

"That's SO COOL!" they nearly shouted.  

And I blinked for a moment.  

They apologized immediately, hoping that they had not embarrassed me or overstepped.  I reassured them with equal urgency, that I was fine, just not the reaction I was used to, even telling her it was not the usual response.  

Normally, when I choose to reveal my ostomy to someone without an ostomy, there are three main reactions:

• Sympathy
• Gentle embarrassment and curiosity
• Total confusion, which after the explanation is then shifted to one of the other two

But this, this was new.  This was...enthusiasm.  There is a lot of brilliant ingenuity in the modern stoma creation process.  There is also a great degree of adaptation and reframing to live with one.  I even had to pause for a moment and think, yeah, I guess I AM pretty cool.  

I'm used to apologies and explaining that, no, really, this terrible burden is something that is very livable and truly gives me my best life.  I did not have to qualify the experience, that "well, yes, it is a burden BUT..." phrase I've said in different words many, many times.  

And then of course there were more questions, and the enthusiasm remained.  I left that moment with beautifully, bemused joy.  It felt pretty good.  I know I am resilient, that I have a degree of natural charisma, but I don't often allow myself to acknowledge that, afraid of sounding full of myself.  And yet, I am a marvel.  It's nice to remember on occasion.  My ostomy is a part of that experience, a part of me.  I am currently living better than I had thought was possible, in some of those darker moments when I had circled the drain.  Time is strange; so is our passage through it.

Another thought crossed my mind later:  it is problematic to reduce someone with a disability to "wow, what an inspiration!"  A person living with a disability is living their life; they don't exist to serve as a example to others on how theirs "could be worse."  However, there is a balance between recognizing the strength of the individual without turning them into a caricature.  In this particular example, I felt seen as a person rather than a person with a disability, which made all the difference.  I felt seen.  And it was nice to have someone else see the benefit without having to introduce caveat after caveat.  

Melvin helps me live my best life.  That can be inspiring; it can also be heavy; it is something that has profoundly shaped my experience.  And it's kinda neat.