Christmas Shopping and Other Joys

Image description: Overlaying a red and white vertical candy-striped background, a white rectangle attached via a red paperclip contains a red bow and the words, ‘Christmas shopping and other joys’ in deep red, courier-font text.

We are sitting in the restaurant of my favourite and most accessible department store. My husband’s having his usual cup of coffee and I’m enjoying my own cup of tea and (lacto-free) milk and sandwiches. The store is very patient about my bringing my own food. Out of the blue we hear a loud crash from down below us in the store. Husband takes a look over the balcony. “They’ve dropped a pile of Christmas tree bulbs.” He informs me.

Of course, what else would it be? After all, it’s the end of August, a warm day, and they have their air conditioning on full blast. (How I wish I hadn’t signed the petition for it many years ago.)

So, it’s started. It’s come round already. I have to start thinking about Christmas shopping again.

First, get the Christmas boxes and bags out of the attic. Make a note, Husband is more dodgy on the attic steps than in previous years so perhaps we shouldn’t bother putting them up there. I can’t physically write a new list, so we dig out my 20-year-old card list. Then we find the “Happy Christmas From” labels. Husband doesn’t like writing, so the labels are essential.

Next, it’s the presents. Here goes. Do I ask my husband, carer, friend, or somebody else to get my presents? It’s so difficult to go shopping, trying to find disabled parking, and getting squashed by the crowds. Not to mention the small problem of the amount of people with colds and so on out at this time of year, given my immune suppression. So, we try the, “husband shopping with list” tactic first although most of the presents are for my family.

But then, there is the amusing but difficult issue of describing exactly what you want. “No, they like dark chocolate.” Or “I meant a fancy box of cheese biscuits, not the ordinary supermarket packets. But never mind.”

So, we end up, as usual in the city trying to park in one of the few disabled spaces left undercover. I can’t cope with cold weather with my condition. Afterwards it’s, forward march and off into the breach.

We hit the crowds. It’s a problem for everybody, but I do find the wheelchair can sometimes be invisible. Nobody means not to notice you, you’re just lower down than their eyelevel when they’re in a hurry. Thus, I’m sure that the person with the big rucksack on their back did not mean to turn around swiftly and almost knock me flying, but that’s what nearly happens. A swift right movement on behalf of my husband and wheelchair handler, avoids a nasty bashing.

We have a rucksack too, on the back of the wheelchair. It contains all my plastic cups, and the bits and pieces needed for our “tea, cakes and medication” out. We do try not to accidentally bop people with our rucksack, however.

There are also the usual issues: the low buttons for the lift, in one well known store, are always covered by a basket pile. Luckily for me I’m not on my own.

On one trip we come across the “cordoned off queue” line. This happily reminds me, of my Cycling Proficiency test! In other words, being steered in the wheelchair around the very narrow “cordons”. It doesn’t work of course. We almost destroy it.

This is nothing however, to the damage we almost do to their fabulous Christmas displays of tins and so on, when trying to manoeuvre a “wheelchair trolley” (if I can call it that) attached to the front of the wheelchair. Husband is a good pusher, but these trolleys feel like I have an articulated lorry in front of me.

We also have to feel sorry for the other people, in some supermarkets, when we try to push with one of these trolleys, down busy sections at Christmas. I suppose it’s one way to clear the crowds. Accidentally of course!

These are only my problems. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be at Christmas, or just Christmas itself, for other people with different problems to my own.

Christmas itself presents lots of challenges to everyone. Not least economic pressure. This can weigh especially heavy on disabled people I believe. On top of this, there are other issues such as loneliness, and isolation. These can be felt acutely this time of year.

I’m lucky. I have a supportive family, who make sure that we don’t feel isolated. And I’m grateful for the support given by both them and the organisations that help us. But I realise that not everybody has this. My way of seeing humour in all things Christmas, is just one way of dealing with it. And realising that there are other people out there, not so lucky as myself.

Written by Sue, an Equal Lives Member.