Can I or Should I? Living With Disability, Risk, and Hard Choices

A hostess at the hostess stand of a fancy restaurant is talking on the phone, answering a question.  Her answer is, "Yes, we're accessible, once you get past the front steps."  There are three steps patrons must get up to eat in the restaurant.   Some able-bodies people don't understand that isn't really accessible at all.

Being disabled doesn’t always mean I can’t do something. Sometimes I can but doing it would come with a cost that more able-bodied people do not see and do not understand.

The truth is this; able-bodied people rarely find themselves in a position where they have to choose between doing something they really want to do and incurring long-term pain or even an injury that could put them in the hospital.  For people with life-limiting conditions, we have to face this option often.

So, the question isn’t can I, it’s should I?  And most of the time, the honest answer is no.

Will I sometimes do it anyway? Yes. But that choice has to be rare and made with caution, because even when I can do something, I will still pay for it later with pain, fatigue, soreness, a flare, or even a long-term injury.

Sometimes the situation truly warrants that cost. If a child were injured at the bottom of a stairway, and there was no one else to help,  I would take that risk without hesitation, even knowing it could hurt me or cause me to fall. Some moments have a moral component that calls for action despite the risk.   

But that is a rare exception.  Something like visiting a new nightclub, eating at a fabulous restaurant, or any kind of optional outing that requires me to risk a fall or a broken bone is a situation where I can’t afford to take the risk. In those cases, the cost is not reasonable, and saying no is the responsible choice.

Living with a life-limiting condition means constantly weighing the risks against the consequences. Every yes has consequences.  This is not about fear or unwillingness. It is about reasoning, responsibility, and life experience. When I say no, I am not being difficult or dramatic. I am making a deliberate choice to protect my health, my safety, and my ability to function tomorrow and beyond. That is not weakness. It is wisdom learned the hard way.


Here are more reflections on living with a disability, chronic illness, or a life-limiting condition.

When Change Sneaks Up on You – Jan Mariet’s A Day in the Life

My Story Isn’t Public Property  – Jan Mariet’s A Day in the Life

Designer Shoes and Disability: Why Judging Others Is Obscene – Jan Mariet’s A Day in the Life

Disabled People Don’t Need Permission to Enjoy Life – Jan Mariet’s A Day in the Life

We’ve Been Gaslit So Long, We Gaslight Ourselves – Jan Mariet’s A Day in the Life.

My Story Isn’t Public Property 

Stop Asking, “What Happened to You?”

Image of a man slumped over in his wheelchair, eyes downcast, as a smiling female reporter holds a microphone towards him and asks, "So, what happened to you?"

Have you ever noticed that when you live with a visible disability, total strangers sometimes feel entitled to ask, “So, what happened to you?” Not trying to be rude here, but believe it or not, I don’t owe my medical history and life story to anyone, least of all strangers.

It’s as if people see a disabled person and immediately think, “How terrible! I wonder what happened?” Then, instead of keeping that thought private, they actually ask. You would never ask such a personal question to a non-disabled person you’ve just met, so why is it considered acceptable when the person is disabled?

Too often, people see us as broken or as the subjects of some tragic story they’re curious to hear. Or they want an inspiring tale of triumph over tragedy, when in reality, these experiences are deeply personal and sometimes too personal to share even with close friends, much less with strangers or casual acquaintances.

Let’s normalize respecting boundaries and not treating disabled people like public stories waiting to be told.


Author’s Note: In writing this article, I made an important realization about myself. I have been so conditioned to just accept this intrusion that I not only answer them, but tend to blab my entire life journey. I overshare with strangers, I think, because I still feel the need I’ve felt all my life — to ‘prove’ that I am worthy. I am now making a conscious effort to stop doing this!

So, I’ve been trying to think of some things I could say to a person who asks this intrusive type of question, that aren’t rude, but that make the point that their question is inappropriate and that I have no intention of answering it.

Here are a few I thought of:

“That’s actually pretty personal. I’d rather not get into it.”

“I appreciate your concern, but that’s not something I talk about with strangers.”

“It’s a long story, and not one I usually share.”

“That’s actually a really personal question for disabled people. Most of us prefer not to be asked.”

“I know you probably meant well, but that’s not something strangers should ask.”

“I’m happy to chat, but not about my medical history.”

“Just so you know, asking a disabled person what happened can feel invasive.”

If you have any other suggestions, please leave me a comment. I’d love to know what you think!


Take a moment to explore other articles about living with disabilities or chronic illnesses by Jan Mariet.

Designer Shoes and Disability: Why Judging Others Is Obscene – Jan Mariet’s A Day in the Life

Disabled People Don’t Need Permission to Enjoy Life – Jan Mariet’s A Day in the Life


Have you ever had a stranger ask you an intrusive question like “What happened to you?” Leave a comment and let’s create a space where our stories remind others they’re not alone.

Living with Invisible Losses: Finding Meaning in Chronic Illness

Image of a person fading away into the background, and faint words saying, "The quiet grief, the missed moments, the life that used to be yours..."

When you live with a chronic illness, there are so many things you wish you didn’t have to face, yet they become part of your life.

There is the loneliness of watching the world move forward while you stand still. Friends make plans, families gather, and life goes on, even when you can’t take part.

There is the heartbreak of memories that belong to the person you used to be. You remember the energy, the freedom, and the ease of doing simple things without thinking twice.

There is the pain of not being able to show up for the people you love in the ways you once could. You miss birthdays, dinners, trips, and quiet everyday moments that used to come easily.

There is the grief of living with a loss no one else can see. The world doesn’t recognize this kind of pain, but it lives inside you every day.

There is the ache of missing out on the small, ordinary moments that most people take for granted. Even something as simple as going for a walk, running errands, or sharing a meal can feel out of reach.

And there is the loss of freedom. The freedom to wake up and simply do what you want, without calculating pain, fatigue, or consequences.

These are the unseen losses that shape your world in quiet, lasting ways; changes that settle deep within you, reinventing how you see yourself and the world around you. Acknowledging them doesn’t mean giving up. It means honoring the strength it takes to live a life that looks different, yet still holds meaning, love, and hope.


Take a moment to explore other articles about living with disabilities or chronic illnesses by Jan Mariet.

Disabled People Don’t Need Permission to Enjoy Life – Jan Mariet’s A Day in the Life

How People Respond to Your Chronic Illness – Jan Mariet’s A Day in the Life


Our Resilient Hearts is more than a collection of stories; it’s a journey toward hope, healing, and hard-earned strength. Author Jan Mariet weaves together powerful personal essays, thought-provoking prompts, and inspiring affirmations that help readers reflect on their own resilience and reclaim meaning in the face of adversity. Our Resilient Hearts by Jan Mariet is available in paperback on Amazon.

Our Resilient Hearts: Thriving Beyond Chronic Illness: Mariet, Jan: 9798315554523: Amazon.com: Books


Have you felt invisible losses too? Leave a comment and let’s create a space where our stories remind others they’re not alone.

Many Wheelchair Users Can Still Stand and Walk

When most people picture a wheelchair user, they imagine someone who cannot walk at all. In reality, that description only fits a small minority of wheelchair users. Many people who use wheelchairs can stand or walk short distances but rely on mobility aids for safety, energy management, or independence. Wheelchair use is not always about the inability to walk. It is often about the cost of walking: physically, energetically, and emotionally.


Why People Use Wheelchairs

A group of friends, including one friend in a wheelchair, chat, laugh, and have a good time.  The caption on the photo says, "Belonging is something we all deserve."

“Why do people use wheelchairs?” It seems like a simple question: “Because they can’t walk.” But that answer leaves out most wheelchair users. Many can take a few steps or stand briefly, yet walking may cause pain, fatigue, dizziness, or imbalance. A wheelchair provides a safer, more sustainable way to move through the day and participate in activities they might otherwise have to skip.

Mobility and stamina can vary greatly from day to day, depending on pain levels, fatigue, or symptom flare-ups. Some people use a wheelchair occasionally, while others rely on one regularly. During busy periods or stressful times, wheelchair use often increases as people try to manage symptoms while still engaging in daily life. Rather than symbolizing limitation, a wheelchair often represents freedom, safety, and inclusion.


How Common Is Ambulatory Wheelchair Use?

There is no official U.S. statistic separating wheelchair users who cannot walk from those who can. However, national surveys show that most wheelchair users report conditions such as arthritis, stroke, multiple sclerosis, or orthopedic disease, conditions that often allow partial mobility. Only a smaller share cite complete paralysis. In short, many wheelchair users are ambulatory, while a minority are completely unable to walk.

Ambulatory wheelchair users are those who can walk or stand to some extent but use a wheelchair to conserve energy, reduce pain, or prevent falls. Many chronic illnesses are unpredictable. Someone might walk into a restaurant one day and need their wheelchair the next.

Outsiders sometimes misinterpret this variability as inconsistency or exaggeration, when it is actually a hallmark of fluctuating conditions such as multiple sclerosis, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS), or chronic pain disorders.

Conditions that often involve partial mobility include arthritis, lupus, POTS, long COVID, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, chronic fatigue syndrome, neuropathy, and spinal or joint disorders. Being able to take a few steps does not mean someone can walk safely, consistently, or without pain.


Myths and Misconceptions

Myth: Wheelchairs are only for people who cannot walk.
Fact: Most wheelchair users can walk, just not safely, consistently, or far enough.

Using a wheelchair is not giving up or taking the easy way out. It is choosing safety, independence, and participation over exhaustion, injury, or isolation. Some ambulatory wheelchair users walk indoors but use their wheelchair in airports, shopping centers, or places that require long distances. Others use it during flare-ups, in bad weather, or when fatigue or dizziness increases.

Unfortunately, mobility aids are sometimes viewed as a “last resort,” but early use can prevent overexertion, falls, and long-term damage. Insurance policies and medical gatekeeping often make it difficult for ambulatory users to access appropriate equipment, reinforcing the myth that wheelchairs are only for those who cannot walk.


A Tool of Liberation, Not Limitation

For many people with chronic illness, a wheelchair is not a symbol of paralysis; it is a symbol of freedom. It allows them to attend events, travel safely, and enjoy life without collapsing in pain or exhaustion. Being able to walk a few steps does not mean someone can walk a few blocks, stand in a long line, or navigate uneven ground. The ability to walk does not erase the need for wheels.


Energy Budgeting and Wheelchair Use

Energy budgeting, sometimes called energy management or spoon theory, is one of the least understood aspects of chronic illness. Think of energy as a limited daily allowance, like money in a checking account. Healthy people start the day with a full balance, but people with chronic conditions begin with a smaller and less predictable budget. Every activity, physical, mental, or emotional, withdraws energy: showering, dressing, cooking, walking, holding a conversation, or managing pain. When the account runs dry, symptoms such as fatigue, pain, or dizziness worsen, and recovery can take hours or days. Energy budgeting is the process of spending that limited energy wisely to avoid “crashes” or flare-ups.

A wheelchair plays an essential role in this budgeting process. It is not only about whether someone can walk but about how much energy walking costs and whether it is worth spending that energy. Someone with arthritis may walk across a room but lose the energy needed to cook or socialize later. A person with POTS or Ehlers-Danlos syndrome might stand for a few minutes but faint or dislocate a joint if they push too far. A person with multiple sclerosis might walk short distances but use a wheelchair to prevent fatigue or heat-related symptoms. By using a wheelchair, they conserve energy for the things that bring meaning and joy, not just survival. A wheelchair is, in this sense, a powerful budgeting tool; it allows people to save their energy for what matters most.


Final Thoughts

Wheelchair use is not simply about whether someone can walk. It is about the effort, pain, and risk that walking may cause. For people with chronic illnesses, walking even short distances can deplete the limited energy they need for self-care or participation in daily life. Using a wheelchair helps them prevent fatigue, reduce pain, and live more fully. A wheelchair does not represent loss; it represents access, safety, and choice—the freedom to live life on one’s own terms.


Other articles that might interest you are:

Disabled People Don’t Need Permission to Enjoy Life – Jan Mariet’s A Day in the Life

The Disability Catch-22 – Jan Mariet’s A Day in the Life

Disability Benefits Myths & Facts – Jan Mariet’s A Day in the Life