#Handicapped

[chronicillnesshumor]

[foxboy83]

AzureDragon02_cs

Jennifer sitting at her local Tim's and enjoying a coffee.  Character and commission by Azuredragon If you like my work consider supporting me over on Patreon or on Ko-fi Coloring assistance by Tootaloo

Posted using PostyBirb

[sleepycatmama]

I want to learn more information about long arm quilting for a handicapped person, and am hoping I can get some help here, and that those who see this will help direct it to the right people.

I have done big stitch hand quilting. I've done straight line in the ditch quilting on a domestic machine with a walking foot, but wasn't able to do it on a large quilt. I've played with a free motion foot a bit.

I might be interested in learning to do long arm quilting, but I have physical limitations to take into account. I can stand and walk, but I can't stand very long or walk very far.

I've seen some information for what was called seated long arm quilting, which all looked to be free motion foot quilting on what looked to be a domestic machine with a large opening.

The kind of long arm quilting where you're holding handles and moving it over the quilt - can that only be done by standing as you work?

Anyone who has experience with quilting and handicap accommodations, I'd like to hear your comments and advice.

[blackcatsinart]

[aspiring-writer-hidden-voice]

🦼

Eijiro Kirishima likes to volunteer his time outside of school/workouts/patrol to help out at the nearby Physical Therapy clinic or Assisted Living. In short: he is the muscle behind the therapists.

Someone needs help standing or moved from their wheelchair?

Everyone has his pager on speed dial when he’s working.

That’s how the two of you met.

You had just moved to this part of the city and the old clinic you used for therapy had closed unfortunately. It was hard for you to get around due to your Cerebral Palsy but at least you had some mobility thanks to years of physical and occupational therapy. Wheeling yourself in through those doors, everyone made you feel welcomed and heard…

Then the therapist had asked for his help in being your support as they helped keep your hips aligned for standing practice.

“Hey, name’s Eijiro Kirishima! Nice to meet you!” He smiles and holds your elbows in a gentle grip, gently but firmly. “Don’t worry, I gotcha, okay? I’ll always be here to catch you!”

Every visit you looked forward to seeing and getting to know the Pro Hero more. It wasn’t long before you enrolled in the private program so that the therapists could do in-home services, something your old clinic never offered.

Though the surprised expression on his face (the therapist was more than accustomed to seeing such a sight) when you answered the door crawling on hands and hips across the carpet had been so comical you wish you’d had a camera.

And when he suffered an injury to his spine while fighting a villain which left him temporarily unable to perform regular things, you were the one he called…

“Hey…I’m sorry to bother but…”

“Which hospital?” Is all you ask and within the hour you were wheeling into his room with an understanding smile. “It’s my turn to help you.”

[skellymom]

"WORDLESS"

THE BAD BATCH ECHO x NON GENDERED READER FAN FIC

A brilliant revolutionary is rendered handicapped and loses hope. Echo steps in to help them restore their life...and finds love.

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Angst, pain, crying, injury, handicapped characters dealing with their condition, kissing and sweetness. I researched Aphasia some, but PLEASE do not come for me. I am not claiming to be an expert. And, I did my very best to be respectful of portraying this medical disorder. My aim was to portray a healthy and devoted relationship with two people who have a physical and mental disability.

No smut (However, all you Echo Lovers who would like a SEPARATE smutty story with these two, PLEASE MESSAGE ME!)

(Divider credit: @hereindreamlandpng @sister-lucifer, Pinterest pic credit: will)

Listen as you read: "Don't Forsake Me" by Ofra Haza

Lyrics:

Don't cast me away When I start to fade When my mind's unmade Don't forsake me When my strength has ebbed Don't forsake me

I know the day will come I know the day will come And all my life will be haze and spark Don't ever leave me in the dark

Don't cast me away When I start to fade When my mind's unmade Don't forsake me When my strength has ebbed Don't forsake me Oh, Oh, Oh Don't cast me away

Tech adjusted his goggles while reading the holopad.  “Your name is becoming very visible throughout the galaxy. I believe the Outer Rim is NOW referring to you as ‘The Bearer of Emancipation’” 

“Kinda cool...but kinda dangerous, eh?”  Wrecker mused. 

“PROMISED Omega we’d ALL come home safe” Hunter added “And NOT bring the Empire hot on our heels to Pabu.” 

I smiled widely feeling EXTRA confident in my abilities promoting clone rights and an overall galaxy wide rebellion post Order 66. "No worries, boys. We're making wonderful headway!" 

It all started out for me as a destitute desert rat the Batch picked up while on their travels. They occasionally helped Rex with his Clone Rebellion.  The “Sassy Jokester” or the “Brilliant Orator” the boys called me.  I really had no skills that would cause them to keep me around.  Not as a medic, mechanic, cook, or anything else for that matter.  Just someone with a quick wit and courageous mouth.  They said my words gave them hope and a reason to feel like actual human beings.  And the laughs...all the laughs too. 

Then, on a mission for Rex, I met ECHO.   

In one afternoon, he wooed me with his rebellious passion for freedom and a safer galaxy.  He commed Senator Chuchi, who I had NEVER heard of.  We spoke and I was hooked. 

From that point on I became a REVOLUTIONARY! 

I traveled to so many worlds with so many different squads.  Deviating which clones would protect me while meeting the galaxy’s citizens.  Changing hearts and minds for The Rebellion. 

We had managed to largely avoid any snags with the Empire...or its cult of followers. 

So far. 

ENVOY____, ENVOY _____!!!  A young girl no older than 6 years old appeared, jumping up and down excitedly. 

She was genuinely thrilled to meet me.  Holding a festively colored box in her hands. 

I broke ranks with the boys and approached her. 

“Envoy...I... wouldn’t do that.”  Hunter warned. 

Scoffing at Hunter’s alarm, I continued to approach.  This planet was safe, and we experienced no issues with the people here... 

Her face lit up as I approached.  She held out the box to me “One of your fans told me to give this to you.” 

Crosshair’s agitated voice squawked over Hunter’s comm behind me.  He did NOT sound like his usual calm self while keeping the sniper’s view of our group... 

Her innocent face.  The face of Hope...of a peaceful future. 

Before I could take the box from her hands, it was shot to the ground from above.   

A second later Hunter grabbed the little girl, flipping and jumping away... 

The last thing I saw was Wrecker’s armor around me with the blinding light of an explosion behind him... 

Then...fade to black... 

I awoke in a rudimentary med ward, on an elevated hover stretcher with a rickety stainless-steel table next to it.  On it lay a water canteen and an empty bedpan.   

There’s a quiet yawn, turning to see Hunter seated next to me.  He had just awakened too. 

He said something.  I could hear him...but his words made no sense.  Hunter babbled in a language I barely understood.  I could read his facial expressions though: relief, love...then changing to doubt and concern the more he spoke. 

He spoke into his comm. 

My tensions began to rise... 

Minutes later Wrecker, Tech, and Crosshair warily, but relieved filed into the room as Hunter commed someone else. 

Tech approached and began talking to me.  He spoke what seemed volumes before I could discern the occasional word.   

Why was this so difficult?  Why did I feel like they were speaking an alien language? 

I opened my mouth to Tech, thinking he would be able to understand... 

...and a guttural sound fell from my mouth.  I tried again and again.  Same thing. 

I felt the tears on my cheeks.  Hunter gently wiped them away, rubbing circles on my shoulder with his other hand. 

Becoming more hysterical with every attempt to speak... 

Crosshair motioned from across the room with the air he reserved for making snide, but hilarious comments to lighten the mood.  He was not a cuddler like Hunter. 

His sinuous voice pulled the curtain back from my lack of understanding.  Where I would normally laugh, I could only mumble unintelligibly. 

Then he doubled down, clearly now NOT paying attention to Tech’s facts, nor Hunter growling at him “Crosshair, this is NOT the time or place!” 

Wrecker, standing next to Cross, trying to silence his brother to no avail...highly aware of my stress and anxiety... 

Then...Crosshair’s voice cuts through my mental haze like a knife through flesh...wounding... 

“Are you DEAF and DUMB???” 

I SNAPPED! 

He ducks just fast enough to not be struck by the stainless-steel bedpan as it hits the wall.  There’s fear in HIS eyes and immense guilt as I SCREAM at him...in an unhinged way.  I sound like an angry animal. 

Wrecker slides over and presses himself into a corner.  Trying to make himself smaller.  He DOESN��T know what to do. 

My screams of rage ramp down to a mournful howl because I AM SCARING HIM. 

“HE DIDN’T MEAN IT!”  Hunter grabs both of my arms.  His expression compassionate and... perhaps too forgiving... 

My anger FLARES as he attempts to lessen the blow of his brother's horrible choice of words.   

ALWAYS defending him!  

WHY can’t Crosshair be more empathetic?   

WHY must Hunter step in for this GROWN man? 

He suddenly realizes his mistake the second I slam my hands into his chest, pushing him away... 

...too strong for me to hurt him... 

But his FEELINGS are torn to shreds...and it shows. 

Tech is attempting to talk AT ME thinking perhaps his LOGIC would prevail in an otherwise VERY EMOTIONALLY charged situation. 

“...a TRAUMATIC brain injury...Aphasia...you can vocalize, however are currently unable to form words.”   

Then he sets his datapad onto my lap. 

“Perhaps...TYPE the message you wish us to comprehend?” 

I inhale SHARPLY.  The keys on the touchscreen resembled an angular string of symbols...and were totally unrecognizable to me. 

These SYMBOLS should MEAN SOMETHING! 

Tech was so sure of my abilities... 

A panic attack grips me.  I let out a crestfallen moan, shaking my head.  No longer even paying attention to the men in the room.   

I want to escape.  To outrun the situation. I MUST GET OUT OF HERE!!! 

Sliding from the stretcher and totally mistakin that my legs would support me post medical coma... 

And falling HEAVILY to the med unit floor, taking the stainless-steel table with it.  The water in the canteen spills all over me and the floor as I fall stomach down with a SLAP! 

IMMEDIATELY, hands on me...trying to lift... 

But my RAGE flares AGAIN! 

Punching and slapping at the well-meaning men...I FORCE them to retreat... 

So that I may lay upon the floor and keep screaming until I'm hoarse. 

Finally, silence, I inhale sharply...and exhale raggedly.  The room is silent enough to hear a pin drop. 

And the familiar thudding of boots entering the room... 

Metal boots. 

They appear in my line of vision. 

A soft but gruff voice speaks “Now...what’s this?” as he kneels. 

Then pulls me wet and bruised off the floor and into his arms.  I hug his neck.  Then try to speak.  Nothing but noise comes out. 

He strokes my hair “I won’t lie.  It’s going to be a HUGE adjustment.” 

I look up into those amber eyes as I feel his cold metal scomp on my back.   

“Up you go.” As Echo lifts and places me back onto the hover stretcher.  Hunter carefully sets a clean gown next to me as Tech hurriedly rights the table and wipes up the water. 

Crosshair stands slumped with a defeated expression.  Wrecker pokes him in the back HARD. 

He straightens up.  “I... shouldn’t have said that.”  Crosshair’s eyes meet yours.  “I’m sorry.” 

I nod.  Forgiving him while wiping my face. 

Hunter squeezes my shoulder “We’ll let you have some space.” Then ushers his brothers out of the room. 

Echo stays behind and helps me change into the dry hospital gown.  He can tell from my expression I am extremely grateful for his support. 

“I ALMOST just missed seeing you awake.” 

My eyes shot up to him in surprise. 

“Heh...been visiting you the past few weeks since the accident.  Of course, you’ve been out and didn’t know it.  You know...in-between missions...” 

He’s rubbing the back of his neck in the awkward way he does when slightly embarrassed. 

My eyes soften. 

He smiles.   

“My ship had JUST left...then Hunter commed me...” 

He steps closer tentatively and takes my hand. 

“From the tone of his voice...thought I...uh...WE had LOST you...” He looks so PAINED by the thought. 

I couldn’t hold back...he’s been such an ally.  But he’s more than that to me.  Someone very precious.  I LOVE ALL the clones... 

But Echo has a VERY special place in my heart. 

Pulling him close and embracing him, I sigh. 

“I don’t know WHAT I’d do if I lost you.” He whispers in my ear. 

I caress his cheek, then pull back from our embrace to gently kiss his lips. 

He inhales sharply. 

I know this is the FIRST kiss he has EVER experienced in his life.  Then I place his hand against my heart, trying to communicate my feelings for him.  

He understands completely. 

“Will you come with me?  I... mean AFTER you’re taken care of medically.  Just...can’t leave you again.” 

I’m elated...but uncertain about the future.  How can I continue my work?  It would be IMPOSSIBLE to advocate if I cannot speak... 

“You’ll find your voice.  We’ll figure SOMETHING out.  You’re not done.” 

I moan quietly and shake my head. 

Then I think of what he’s been through.  Now standing here, having picked me up off the floor with one arm, traveling through the galaxy fighting for peace, then coming back time and again to my bedside...a man missing most of his body, whose mind had been tormented for so long... 

In his eyes I see HOPE. 

If Echo can do it, so can I. 

Pabu is a beautiful place to recover.  The sunlight, perfect weather...and the people are so attentive and caring.  I sit on the beach and watch the waves roll in. My clone family has been nothing but wonderful and supportive.

But I can’t stay here forever.  There’s work to do.  Especially if I want EVERYONE in the universe to be able to have a safe home and their freedom. 

I still cannot speak.  According to Tech I may NEVER regain my verbalization.  But he was delighted that I was lucky enough to understand the spoken word.  Not everyone with this injury can. 

“See you made it down here by yourself today.” Echo’s pride shows as he approaches.  He’d usually lead me down the rocky steps to the sand.   

He’s dressed only in his deep red bodysuit bottoms.  Confidently showing off his prosthetics and mechanics.  Something he would have NEVER done before we met.  His skin is beginning to lose that ghostly pallor. 

I give him an “of course” expression and he smiles.  He knows I’ve been pushing myself hard.  We won’t leave Pabu until I’m cleared medically by Tech. Physical therapy works wonders with mobility.  Then there’s the lessons... 

“Here’s your teacher now.” 

Omega sprints across the beach towards us.  She’s wearing a rainbow tie dye swimsuit.  Something her and Lyana made one happy Pabu summer day. 

“Are you ready?” She’s excited and hopeful.   

They both join me on the blanket. 

“Ok, recap.  Show me what we worked on yesterday.” Omega slips into tutor mode. 

I roll my eyes and sign in Standard Basic The quick silver Vulptice jumps over the lazy Lurca. 

“PERFECT!” Omega claps her hands ecstatically. 

I want something FUN!  When will I learn swear words? 

Omega laughs into her hands and blushes. 

“That’s MY department.” Echo embraces me, pulling my back to his chest.  Then leans into my ear whispering something and gestures with his scomp and hand...a very interesting swear word indeed! 

Omega explodes into even wilder laughter and falls backward onto the sand. 

“What’s SO FUNNY” Hunter asks as he approaches. 

Nothing I sign, but giggle. 

He glances at Echo and I, then winks with a mischievous grin. 

Wrecker sets down a huge cooler of food and drinks, then takes Shep’s hand as they make a beeline for the water in their matching swim trunks.   

Batcher tears past and Omega runs after her. 

Tech and Phee approach.  She holds aloft a beautiful bottle of deep amber alcohol “Hondo sends his FINEST rum.  It’s been sold out since the Empire put an alcohol prohibition on their stormtroopers.  He held this baby back just for US!” 

Tech spreads another big blanket onto the sand as Phee hands the rum to Hunter.  Then she removes her gauzy sarong to reveal a beautifully beaded and woven earth toned bikini.  Tech is captivated by this.  Standing there smiling in his plain beige and heavily pocketed cargo shorts. 

Then he scoops her up lovingly over his shoulder and walks calmly into the ocean.  She squeals playfully. 

Crosshair opens a HUGE beach umbrella and sinks it into the sand, parking himself under it on the blanket next to Hunter. He’s dressed in a black full body wetsuit covering his tall sleek frame, black sunglasses, with his signature toothpick.  Cross had since grown out his hair only on the top.  His frosty silver locks falling lushly to a side part and long bangs mysteriously covering one eye.  Contrasted with Hunter only dressed in a pair of skimpy distressed jean cutoff shorts.  The light acid washed denim emphasizing his dark skin and toned body, deep crimson bandana, and jet-black curls resting past his broad shoulders. 

Hunter cracks open the rum, pours two glasses and hands one to Crosshair. 

The Bachelor Thirst Traps of Pabu. I sign to Echo.  The women...and men should be showing up ANY minute now... 

Hunter nods, offering us some rum. 

“We’ll pass for now.”  Echo nods back, eyeing more beachgoers descending the stairs at the top of the cliff.  “Looks like your fans are here.” he chuckles. 

Hunter stops and sighs “Can’t get a moment of PEACE.” 

Crosshair snorts. “When you prance down the streets wearing THAT, what do you expect?   

“They’re lucky I even wear ANYTHING to the beach.” Hunter grouses. 

They’d feel pretty LUCKY if you DIDN’T!  I sign.  

Echo snorts.  Crosshair throws his head back and cackles. 

Hunter smirks “You’re Basic Sign is getting much better.” 

Thanks, Sergeant 

“Keep an eye on this for me.”  Echo pulls off his scomp and tosses it to Cross. 

Cross catches and salutes Echo with it, drink in hand. 

Echo and I get up from the blanket and head over to our secluded spot at the lagoon.  He holds my hand keeping vigilant should I trip on the sand.  My legs are still a bit weak. 

We sit on a smooth flat boulder next to a shallow pool of sparkling turquoise ocean water.  No waves or currents, just a calm oasis with rocks surrounding it allowing for privacy. 

I slide in first, floating and buoyant waiting for Echo. 

He carefully pulls off both leg prosthetics, leaving them on the boulder, then inches over the edge.  I hold out my hands, carefully grasp his hips to help guide him into the water as he lowers himself down with one arm. 

There is no embarrassment, nor judgement.  We accept help from one another, welcome physical touch, and our loving devotion to one another. 

He slides into my arms and encircles me with his, then sighs... 

“I could ALMOST see us staying here...indefinitely.” 

Almost I sign.  But...that ITCH...an urgency to be a part of something... I trail off 

“Bigger” he finishes my sentence.  “Maybe even something we’ll both NEVER see.” Brief melancholy spreads across his face. 

I feel it too.  The pull from both worlds. 

We have THIS...at least for right NOW.  I sign. 

“You’re right.”  He agrees, hope returning to his face.  “Let’s make the most of it.”   

He pulls me closer to him and we make the VERY MOST of this day...and each one after that... 

[dk-thrive]

I wish I had been kinder; and if I get another chance, I will be.

— Hanif Kureishi, Shattered: A Memoir (Ecco, February 4, 2025)

[disability-talk]

Please call us disabled!

A text about why disability is the right term

Word count: 415 words

Many people try to avoid using the term disabled and instead come up with all sorts of interesting things. In this text I want to reflect why you should indeed say disabled and why the implications of some of these other things aren't great at all.

The first term I want to talk about is "differently abled". This implies that your worth is depending on what you can provide for society. You being unable to do so "normally" takes something from your worth, so you get called differently abled to show that you can indeed be useful and therefore are worth something. It also implies that you'd get something good with your disability, and that's just not true for most disabled people. The things you "get" are trainable, so everyone could achieve them.

Secondly, let's talk about "special needs". Special needs is an euphimism for disabled. Euphimisms are words supposed to soften the meaning of the original, considered "too harsh" word, or to avoid an unpleasant and offensive word. We for example say "pass away" instead of die or use "Special military mission" instead of Invasion to wash away the harsh reality. Using an euphemism for disabled implies that there is something negative, shameful or embarrasing to cover up, which there isn't.

The term next up is "handicapped". This word stems from old war veterans being considered unable to hold down a job so they had to go beg for money with their "cap in hand". It referred to beggars and people useless to society. And disabled people aren't useless. They're far from it. Additionally, putting handicapped in front of words like "parking spot" implies that there is something wrong with the parking spot. But it isn't. It's "accessible".

"Handicapable" is an even worse euphemistic description of disabled, once again highlighting how they have something making them useless so we have to underline that they totally aren't in our perception. Because if you were disabled, you'd be useless. So we don't want to call you that.

A disability can provide a culture and community, and you take that away when you don't call us by the term we ask you to. A disability is something that makes us unable to do, partake in or experience certain things. It dis-ables us. This is why we want you to call us that. It highlights the way it affects us while also showing our community.

[chronicillnesshumor]

Source: a_h_reaume on Twitter

[afranse]

Гонит калек в атаку заградотряд.

Из этой атаки никто не вернётся назад.

Государство не хочет в тылу содержать калек,

Выписывает на погибель волчий билет.

И ковыляют в атаку к своим праотцам

Калеки, которых хотят приравнять к мертвецам.

Отход прикрывает надёжно заградотряд.

Понять несложно - никто не придёт назад.

Калеками стали они на этой войне.

Их жизнь после этого резко упала в цене.

А государство не хочет кормить калек,

Их гонит туда, где проблем с ними больше нет.

У этой атаки всего лишь один исход -

Новых калек Россия отправит в расход.

Заградотряд, посмевших свернуть, ушатал.

Война всё спишет, - считает верховный шакал.

#######################

The barrier detachment unit drives cripples into attack.

No one will return back home and have peaceful time.

The state does not want to support cripples.

It writes out a wolf ticket for them at frontline.

Hobble into the attack to their forefathers

Cripples, whom kremlin wants equate with dead.

Their retreat is reliably covered by barrier detachment.

It’s clear that no one alive will be able come back

They became cripples in this kremlin war of aggression.

In peaceful life in the past they’ve never been hobbling.

The state does not want to spend money on handicapped.

It drives them to underworld where they won’t bring problems.

This deadly attack may have only one outcome -

Cripples lost in underworld of course won’t have any future.

The barrier detachment kills those who decide to return.

The war writes off everything thanks to the kremlin butcher.

[postcard-from-the-past]

Handicapped children in a Parisian Asylum

French vintage postcard

[sakitsune-09]

Inspired by Brozone Lineage by Yrbana @AO3

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/64872592"><strong>Brozone lineage</strong></a> (8605 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yrbana"><strong>Yrbana</strong></a><br />Chapters: 3/?<br />Fandom: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Trolls%20(DreamWorks%20Movies)">Trolls (DreamWorks Movies)</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Trolls:%20The%20Beat%20Goes%20On%20(Cartoon)">Trolls: The Beat Goes On (Cartoon)</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Trolls:%20TrollsTopia%20(Cartoon)">Trolls: TrollsTopia (Cartoon)</a><br />Rating: Not Rated<br />Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply<br />Relationships: Brandy/Bruce (Trolls), John Dory (Trolls)/Original Character(s), John Dory (Trolls)/Original Male Character(s), John Dory (Trolls)/Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), John Dory (Trolls)/Original Female Character(s)<br />Characters: John Dory (Trolls), Bruce (Trolls), Brandy (Trolls), Clay (Trolls), Branch (Trolls), Original Troll Character(s) (Trolls DreamWorks Movies), Rhonda (Trolls)<br />Additional Tags: Polyamory, Suicide Attempt, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Explosions, Heavy Drinking, Drinking, Depression, Missing Limbs, Prosthetics, Sewing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, Vomiting, Isolation, Crying, Lots of it, This is just for dear johny, Yes all the above, John Dory Needs a Hug (Trolls), Floyd being a little shit, Good Sibling Floyd (Trolls), Emo, Fluff and Angst, Brandy is a troll, Because it's hard writing size difference, I'm Not Ashamed, Autistic Branch (Trolls), Autistic Clay (Trolls), Bruce and Brandy are married, So is clay, Trans Male Character, Threesome - F/M/M, I'm Bad At Summaries<br />Summary: <p>John see his brothers as his kids, thinks that after the group break up his kids don't need him anymore so he spend the next years drinking and surfing on death doors.<br />He blown himself up and then blow as a clothes designer.</p><p>Again no beta reader, i try to re-read myself and not gonna lie i also use a grammatical app because i'm not an english speaker,</p>

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64872592

[latedawnsxearlysunsets]

the goal is to not ask anyone for help and not let anyone help because im sick and tired of being a burden. i dont want to rely on anyone anymore. i rather do it all myself even if that means having pain. i don't need anyone's help anymore because i dont want people to deal with me being a burden.

[correctopinionhaver]

when someone has a handicap placard but you see them park and get out of the car like