Handicapped

Last night, in pain, teeth pressed together and my left arm clinched against my body my mind went to Haiti. I hurt my shoulder playing basketball. Unfortunately as of this point it is pretty much unusable.

I thought about what this injury would mean if I needed my arm to survive. If not being able to go out and hunt meant I would starve. A scary thought.

Then with that thought I remembered a man at the Port-au-Prince airport who helped our group get to our transportation and load baggage. He had only one arm.

For him, the idea of not being able to survive without an arm is so much closer to reality than mine. I work at a computer. As I type this my arm is up on the arm of my chair resting. No real danger here.

For him only having one arm just increases the danger that people live with in Haiti.

For me, to lose an arm would result in disability payments and assistance.

For him he either finds a way to survive... or he doesn't. There is no back up. He finds work... as an airport "helper" or he, and possibly any family he tries to support, goes hungry.

In Haiti, being handicapped seems much more scary.