Hiya gawkers!

Yesterday I went to Great Clips to get my hair cut. The hairdresser I've had for the past year got a job at the local bank around Christmas, so I've been badly in need of a trim. But I was also very conscious that in the two years I've had a trach and used a vent I have never gone anywhere "cold" and required a non-medical person to, well, touch me.

Knowing how weird people can be about wheelchair users, I expected a wheelchair user with a trach and vent would make the experience even more of an adventure. I was so right. The level of gawking -- outright staring -- from people less than five feet from me far surpassed anything I've experienced in my 25 years of being visibly disabled.

People stare all the time, right? Three women, close enough for me to reach out and kick them, sat or stood with their jaws hanging down as they stared. And stared. For several very long minutes. It may have been much longer. I had to look away from the rudeness.

I've felt comfortable challenging that in the past, at the very least with a pointed look back, but this time I found myself unprepared and struck silent. I looked back and found absolutely no recognition that they were looking at fellow human being. They stared like I was an alien or three-headed dog. My nurse, a smart outspoken woman, was stunned into silence too.

Then I got busy with what I came there for and the calm business manner of the woman who shampooed and cut my hair. But I felt the Othering shame of those stares in a way I haven't for a couple decades. And here I thought I had this worked out. Damn.