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Amy F. Quincy Author/Freelance Writer

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Adventures in Misadventures

bookstore-bestsellers-16563259I’m here. I’m back I did not fall off of the face of the earth. As you might have guessed, settling into a new neighborhood, publishing a book and consistently putting out a blog post was a little too much for me. Something had to give – sorry.

It turns out that writing the book was the easy part. And it also turns out that some cover designers don’t understand the difference between a hospital wheelchair and one that’s designed to sit in every day. But I’m teaching them. And learning a lot in the process.23015

I’ve been so wrapped up in trying to get the @#$# thing out that I missed several of your good wishes and inquiries on how to purchase the book. The easiest way will be to order online from Amazon (though they’ll take their cut). That’s probably best if you don’t live in Jacksonville and I’ll post an announcement when it’s available. Otherwise, you may want to pick up a copy from me, especially if you know you’ll see me!

So to prove I haven’t been kicking back at Sun-Ray or Memorial Park with Frankie all day, I give you a piece I’m writing into the end of Misadventures of a Happy Heart: A Memoir of Life Beyond Disability. Consider it a sneak preview. Enjoy!

How To Have Your Own Misadventures

1. Don’t take things so seriously. Cultivate your sense of humor.
Learn to laugh at yourself. I don’t mean to sound like an R.E.M. song, but it’s a fact. People like to be around (and help) happy, smiling people. And let’s face it, sometimes the most humorous thing about the situation is you…if you choose to see it. You may already stick out like a sore thumb and everybody’s staring anyway – have some fun with it. It may be cliché, but laughter really is the best medicine.

2. Don’t define yourself by tragedy.
Don’t become known as “the girl in the wheelchair” or “the guy who had the skiing accident.” Make your life about something more than whatever tragic thing happened to you. Do you want to be introduced as “the divorcée” forever? Make your story about something positive, not negative. There’s power in words. If you’re constantly reliving a negative event, through words or thoughts, you’re putting that energy out into the world. Put positive out and get positive back.

3. Consider getting a dog.
I highly recommend living with an animal of some kind. It keeps you from getting lonely (if you live alone). One study showed that not only were pet owners less lonely, but they were healthier and had higher self-esteem too! Plus, owning a dog gets you outside for all those walks, rain or shine. And if you have a disability, a dog can be a great icebreaker. Many able-bodied people may stop to talk with you that normally would not have, which helps to build disability awareness. And there are so many homeless pets. Contact your local humane society, ASPCA or The National Association of Service Dogs.

4. Live in a walkable community.
If you can no longer drive, this is key to regaining your independence. Even if you still drive, life is too short to spend stressful hours in traffic. Getting out to grocery shop or run errands is good for you and allows you to meet your neighbors. And, if disabled, doing things for yourself can make you feel competent and confident!

5. Get involved. Socialize. Help others.
For me, all three of these things came together in Adaptive Sports and Recreation. Exercise is important for your physical and mental health. And most importantly, it allows you to make friends, often with people going through something similar. Call around. Your local hospital, rehab center or doctor’s office may be a good place to start. Seek out support groups. You’ll find there’s usually always someone worse off than you. Offer your assistance or be a mentor to others. You’ll find this gets you out of yourself and your own problems and reminds you to be grateful for what you have.

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Turf Wars

130525_0001Carlito’s a pussy. Cat. Of course, I mean pussycat. But my mom’s cat, for being such a big, strapping, good-looking tom, is a bit girly. As I settle in, I thought Mom and I would be the ones bickering over territory. Turns out, it’s the animals having trouble with whose space is whose. Actually, there’s no squabbles going on there either. From the moment we moved in, it was clear – Bella’s the boss.

I was all set to feel bad for her, having to live with two males. No need. She’s a tough lady. She keeps both boys firmly in their place. Frankie’s always known where he stands with her. In the houeshold hierarchy, there’s Bella, then him, then me, then Carlito. Mom’s dead last. I fight a losing battle with Frankie for dominance, but Mom doesn’t even enter the ring. Or bother getting suited up. Actually, in Frankie’s eyes, I’m probably after Carlito. Which is pretty bad, cause as I said, he puts the pussy in pussycat.

He’s proof you can’t judge a book by its cover. I mean, he’s really quite strong and handsome. But then he follows my mom to the kitchen and lets out this pathetic little mew. I wouldn’t even call it a meow. It’s kittenish. And downright effeminate.

My mom says he has all sorts of childhood issues. She found him, homeless in Miami, the last of his littermates to be taken in. She says he was a big kitten, too large in fact, to still be at his mother’s nipple. But there he was. And there you have it. I think his problems began there.

130518_0003Fast forward to present and Bella heads outside for her first stroll around the pool. The area outside the house has been Carlito’s territory. After all, she’s clearly an indoor girl, while he’s always been inside-outside. He meets her eyes briefly, then disappears, relinquishing any and all claims, while Bella schmoozes her way around the patio furniture. He loses inside too, but there I’m to blame — I’ve let Bella in Carlito’s space, but not the other way around.

So while Mom and I keep politely knocking or calling first, and the cats have worked out that what’s hers is hers and what’s his is hers, only Frankie has no boundaries. He barges in unexpectedly anytime he feels like it, through the doggy door I had put in. Bella sits and looks out, watching him mysteriously appear and disappear, but so far not figuring it out. Hey, I said she was bossy, not bright. 130516_0014

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A Holiday Rerun

1255290707dzuL99Please enjoy this excerpt, “A New New Year’s,” from my upcoming memoir.

I must have been insane to do it.  Maybe my ability to reason had not been fully restored.  I still operated under my old personality.  It was the end of 2007, and the old me loved going out to ring in the new year.

Vivian looked cute.  She wore tight metallic pants with a black silk scoop-neck and the strappy heels with the high cork wedge I’d passed on to her.  I loved those shoes.  Even as painful as they’d been after a night out, I loved them.

We waited in a short line.  The girls wore tops covered by leather jackets that would later be shed to reveal sparkly colors and glitter and too much skin.  I was conscious of my jeans and frumpy black sweater.  I wore flat, black boots that might as well have been corrective shoes surrounded by all those tottering heels.  These women clacked.  I clomped.

Viv began making our way, pushing the wheelchair toward a large empty table up front that had a homemade sign with the words, “RESERVED — BAND” on it.  Rob came over from practicing to thank us for coming out.  He didn’t know we were grateful to have an automatic place to go.  I used to love that when we were dating.  Viv’s husband was in a band too, so we always had a choice of venues.

People parted as we cut across the dance floor on our way to the table.  I received lots of attention, “Happy New Year!” wishes and condescending “you go girl!” pats.  Apparently, my very existence among the scene was to be commended. Continue reading “A Holiday Rerun” →

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Perfectly Imperfect

Killian McDonnell’s poem “Perfection, Perfection“ starts out, “I have had it with perfection.  I have packed my bags,  I’m out of here.  Gone.”  It ends, “Hints I could have taken: Even the perfect chiseled form of Michelangelo’s radiant David squints, the Venus De Milo has no arms, the Liberty Bell is cracked.”

I love that.  And it’s a good lesson.  I’ve known perfectionists, myself included, who agonize over each word, each comma, each turn of phrase.  I know a writer who tinkers with her work until she worries she’s tinkered the clever right out of it.  I know an artist who’d prefer to hang her paintings herself lest they not receive proper placement for optimal appreciation.  I, myself, read my words over so many times that I know them by heart.  It’s an illness, this perfectionism.  I think about that sculptor laying awake at night fretting over the Venus De Milo’s arms.  Maybe their shape wasn’t coming out quite right.  And those sleepless nights.  What were they all for?

I give you the serenity prayer: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.  A very wise woman (my mother) once asked me “why worry about what you can’t control?”  If I may put it into my own words: do your best work (like the sculptor,) but then let it go.  Don’t lose sleep over it.  The arms may fall off anyway.  It’s probably still a masterpiece.

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Disability Has Its Perks

‘Disability has its perks!” I say.

“What?” my father asks.  He can’t believe I just said that.

It’s kind of a running joke of mine.  Just like the statement that I finally found a way out of nine-to-five.  And it’s true.  And hey, if I can joke about it, shouldn’t everyone be able to?

But my father’s money, along with decent Social Security Disability Income payments, allows me to live alone at the beach.  In other words, he’s not laughing.

I’m grateful to be able to live where I choose.  But I’m also grateful to finally be living my dream.  And let’s face it.  If I hadn’t become disabled, I’d still be toiling away at some well-paying corporate job I hated and fantasizing about being a writer.

Don’t get me wrong.  I think I’d rather walk.  But that’s what I mean when I say disability has its perks.  There’s usually always a bright side.  Yours doesn’t have to be quite as dramatic.  Just look for it.

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Coming Soon!

Hello friends!  I will be maintaining a weekly blog at this location, sometime after the publication of my memoir.  Be sure to check back!

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