When I heard the news about the debut of my town’s first drive-in movie theater a few weeks ago, I was elated.
A montage of dreamy snapshots flickered across my mind. I pictured myself in the company of friends, tucked in a fluffy blanket. With a canopy of twinkling stars dotting the sky, we would exchange lighthearted banter while the movie flickered in the background.
Reality. Check.
“Who do you think you are?” my mind castigates me. Not in this lifetime.
Complicated health issues have kept me isolated for the better part of the last decade. I’ve traded my social life for my pulse, often wondering how the latter can continue without the former. The textured walls of my home sometimes seem to close in on me, leading me to wonder how I will ever make my escape. How can I reemerge into society as the healthy, capable woman I’m working so diligently to become?
I mute the all-or-nothing part of my mind that tells me either I really can or I really can’t do something. I provide space for the gray area to grow; perhaps there might be a way for me to attend an outdoor movie without entirely sacrificing my existence.
Pondering the potential neurological consequences of this kind of stimulation, I peruse the drive-in theater’s website. With my birthday just around the corner, it seems as though the picturesque scene is begging me to step outside my tiny world.
Fast-forward two weeks, and I am ensconced in a vehicular bubble, a friend to each side of me. We giggle behind our masks, and I feel something akin to being alive for the first time in years.
The makeshift screen illuminates an audience of vehicles populated by people who almost seem unreal to me. I both marvel at my presence at a social outing and expect my body to sound the sirens of disaster.
To my surprise, the protests of my brain remain relatively minimal. I am afforded the delicious treat of coexisting with my dear friends while savoring the unfamiliar satisfaction of levity.
When my body finally cues me that my battery is running low, my friends respond with compassion and understanding. As we pack up during intermission, I observe a beautiful scene unfolding behind me: My two friends instinctively gather my belongings with care and guide me into the front seat. I beam with happiness as we make our way home.
***
Note: Cerebral Palsy News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disorder. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Cerebral Palsy News Today or its parent company, BioNews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to cerebral palsy.