I probably shouldn't be writing this diary right now because my inner curmudgeon is coming to the fore and I'm fuming, but here I go below the squiggle!
My partner's father (Papa) is 87 years old and in good health except that he has a metal pin through one knee as the result of a failed knee replacement surgery and can't bend one leg. Papa lives in the house behind us, and we look after him, fixing his meals, tucking him into bed at night, and helping him with bills, banking, etc. My partner also drives him to his doctor appointments, which at his age means several times a month - eye doctor to check his glaucoma, heart doctor to check for problems, primary care doctor for regular blood checks, prostate doctor, etc. We have a handicapped placard in our car that we use only when we take Papa somewhere. This isn't often other than to the doctor because with his unbending knee, the only way he fits in our car is to pull himself across the back seat and lie across the seat with his head propped up against the door. He uses the handicapped van service for visiting relatives occasionally so that he can travel with his motorized wheelchair. He can walk slowly with a walker, but at the age of 87 tires easily because of the strain of walking with a knee that can't bend even though he has a special elevated shoe for the leg so that he's not tilting to one side when he walks. We have the handicapped placard in the car all of the time, but we would NEVER even think to use it when he's not with us.
Our neighbors are a couple in their late 60s/early 70s. They're wonderful neighbors. She brings homemade cookies over occasionally, and even bakes gluten-free cookies for me. They invite us over for dinner. They water our garden when we're away. Every day at 9 in the morning, my father-in-law goes over to their house for coffee, either using his walker if he's feeling chipper, or riding his wheelchair across the street. Both of us are quiet people and don't really chat much, so he enjoys his visits with them and relishes the chance for a good chat.
Today at lunch, he mentioned that the neighbors had gone to the Department of Motor Vehicles to get a handicapped placard for their car. Her doctor had asked if she wanted one, and had written up the paperwork. I know that she does have some medical problems - diabetes that's kept in check, high blood pressure (as do I), back pain (as do I), but nothing that should keep her from walking. Just a month ago, we went to lunch together at a nearby restaurant, and we walked the 4 blocks there and back together with Papa leading the way in his wheelchair.
I wouldn't have a problem with this if my partner didn't constantly complain about taking Papa to the doctor and finding every designated handicapped spot full and then having to drop Papa off at the door and having him wait there alone while he finds a place to park. This happens most often at the doctor that he sees at a medical building at one of the major hospitals in the area, which means that finding a parking place can take some time. (The parking ramp is five levels tall and has only 5 handicapped spots to park next to the elevator on the first level and 5 on the third level and Papa needs the extra wide parking spaces to be able to slide out out of the car with his unbendable leg- and this is a medical building! - but that's a different rant for another day).
When we go out to eat or shopping, we often intentionally park off in the part of the parking area furthest from where we're going because it gives us a chance to walk and get some exercise. Like most people, we're lazy and our daily exercise consists mostly of working in the garden for a couple of hours, so we figure the extra walking will do us some good.
Our neighbors are rarely seen outside of their house except for going to or from their car. I would think that some extra walking would be good for them. Now they have a handicapped placard, so they'll be diminishing the amount of exercise they get even further.
I'll need to avoid talking to them until I cool down a bit because I don't want to say anything to alienate them. I'm upset that people (including doctors) now seem to think that being lazy is a medical diagnosis deserving of a handicapped designation. Or perhaps a handicapped placard is a new status symbol for the elderly? And dear, sweet Papa and other deserving folks like him who can't find a handicapped parking place are the ones who suffer.