Yesterday I woke up with nasty back pain. I contemplated taking a sick day (I have over 200 coming to me; I can definitely afford one.), but I decided -- as usual -- that it was more trouble to prepare for a substitute than it was just to force my aching body to get to school.
I pulled into the parking lot at 6:50, slowly dragged myself out of the car, and began to waddle toward the building, when I saw our lone wheelchair-using teacher struggling to get her wheelchair out of the trunk of her car, her legs (thinned by the ravages of a 16-year war with MS) wobbling beneath her.
The ROTC is supposed to make sure there's always a kid to help her before and after school, but there wasn't even a non-ROTC kid in sight, nor was there any other adult to help her.
Of course I went to her. I gritted my teeth in pain and lifted her chair out for her, snapped the wheels on as she explained how, and held it for her as she got in.
Yeah, I hurt even more afterwards, but I shut up about it. After all, I can WALK; she can't. I'm sure she'd be happy to swap me for the back pain any day.
It's all about perspective.