Kicking Canes, Joking on People with MS

The floor of my office's building was smack dab in the middle---31st out of 62. As you walked off the elevator, you were directly in front of our reception desk. Seattle City Light hadn't been there long, everything was still new and shiny. I was feeling old and dull.

My MS had just reached its magical 5 year point (they used to say, "At 5 years after diagnosis, you can tell if you will have a mild course or not.") when I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Yea, me. When the surgeon found me awake, his first words were, "You have cancer." (He then stepped into the hall and said to a nurse, "She was such a nice girl." Gulp. My emphasis on "was.") I replied, "Of course I do."

But it was  5 months later, and I was feeling terrific, just weak in the legs. Yea me! My folding cane still was my best buddy, but without all of the wonderful co-workers I had, well, working 8 hours a day would probably have been impossible. The cancer took something out of me, if you've had/have cancer, then you know what I mean. In a photo taken by a co-worker I looked like a thin, pale, weak, feeble, woman on her last leg. Funny, because I FELT really good that day. I always loved my job. Unfortunately, not all of my co-workers were "wonderful."

The receptionist was unfamiliar to me, as many people were when I returned from my surgeries. The city Water Dept. had moved some of their employees to our floor. There was a territorial battle brewing, but that is another story, suffice to say I didn't know the lady behind the desk. She had mostly gray hair that she pulled back into a tight pony tail. She stood all of 5 feet, maybe 5' 1" in heels.
I greeted her with a cheery "Good Morning!" every morning, all 5'6" of me. She preferred to look away, but occasionally forced out a rebuttal of sorts, "Not with this weather," something like that.

Yes, I would call her grumpy, though my morning cheerfulness sometimes had that effect on people---I arrived at work around 6AM, my start time was 7:30AM, and I was always raring to go. I was a "morning person." I never took Grumpy's comments personally...in the beginning.

It started with snarky comments about my cane as I would pass by. "Do you really need that?" (It is at these times one wishes one, ok *I* could just lose my adult filters and open up a can of whup-rear on such people---"No, it just makes me feel so Charlie Chaplin!" or "Do you really need those grandma glasses?")

Then when I ignored her for so many weeks, she started standing and following me with her eyes when I walked past. One day she came to my cubicle and glancing around asked, "Where do you keep your cane?" (Why oh why must I have a filter? "May I show you where I would like to keep it?")

Invading my cubicle space was the last straw and I ignored her as much as I could after she got her first "Good Morning!" HER space was public space, I found myself leaning on that large reception desk (it was about 4 feet tall and quite long) while waiting on the elevator. One day out of the blue she marched from behind the desk and made a motion of kicking my cane. Before I could look at her or say a word, she continued to march into another hallway. Okay, that seemed strange. The next day she did it again while I was closer to the elevator doors, just me and my cane. She added a smile as she kicked her foot out.

"Abbie, please don't do that. My cane is my support, ok?" But by the time I finished the sentence, she was headed around the corner with no intention of hearing any retort from me. Oh, it was on.

My other friends and co-workers were all City Light employees, Abbie was a Water Dept., employee, this meant war. There was outrage when my friends heard what she had done. Their reaction was swift and emotionally charged, more so I think because it presented a chance to attack the Water Dept., which we felt was encroaching upon our very livelihood---a merge had been in the air, a "take-over" we called it. This was not what I expected, I had just wanted to vent. "Calm down, it's okay, if she does it again I'll talk to her." She did it again.

This time she actually kicked the cane! Of course there were never any witnesses. She hadn't hit it hard enough to knock it away, just enough to make me lose balance for a brief moment, but it was a slow-motion scary moment. "HEY!" was all I got out before she was gone. Part of me was in shock. I went straight to my supervisor. My supervisor was completely supportive and went to Abbie's supervisor.

Abbie came to my cubicle and apologized. "I was just joking." (??!!) Calmly, but firmly, I explained that to someone who relies on a cane, the threat of it being kicked away is no joke. She had a blank look in her eyes, but she never came near me again. I never said, "Good Morning" to her again, in fact she was not at the front reception area much longer.

Am I crazy to believe that some of these things are just common sense?!