A Balancing Act: How Women with a Hidden Disability Perform Femininity — Page 2:
Narrative Construction
6 Mary gripped her mug of tea in one hand, the stair railing in the other and eased her way down three small steps. She sunk into a lawn chair, its tattered material sinking with her weight. The sky was a mixture of pinks and oranges, as the sun slowly disappeared. A lone cactus stuck out of the ground, disrupting the flat horizon. It leaned slightly to the left, its arms extending upward as if ready to fight its impending doom brought on by men, materials, and machines.
7 Her mind shifted back to her day at work. It always took a cup of tea and deep breathing to relax her mind before night descended and it was time to fall asleep and start all over again. The most unsettling aspect of waking up was not knowing whether her body would work the way she instructed it to, or if it would fail her when she least expects, embarrassing her in front of her coworkers. Today was a perfect example of that dreaded humiliation. As she recalled it, the rancid feeling in her stomach returned.
8 That afternoon, Mary had skipped lunch break. The constantly ringing phone had to be answered and insurance claims had to be dealt with. The day had seemed especially busy and if she let the calls go to voicemail, she knew she would be more overwhelmed later. Around four o’clock, her stomach growled an unhappy reminder that it missed a meal. She should have known better than to skip a meal in the first place, especially in the midst of a demanding day. By now, Mary knew that if her body didn’t get the nutrition it needed when it needed it, it would rebel.
9 On her way to the kitchen, a young coworker stopped her to ask if she took care of a call he’d forwarded to her. She hadn’t yet, but she didn’t want to explain this to him, because she could feel it coming on. She knew she had to get to the kitchen, to the lunch sack waiting in the refrigerator. She threw a brisk answer at him as she moved. Oh no! She realized it right away … her tongue hadn’t quite formed the words properly and her words came out slurred. With a mocking, but intrigued look on his face, he followed behind her. Consciously Mary formed each word in her mind before verbalizing it. Slowly, meticulously, she made every effort to enunciate each syllable, hoping to make him think he had imagined it.
10 “You’re slurring, Mary! Did you knock a few back over lunch?” His laughter bounced off the walls. Mary could feel her face burning with embarrassment. She tried to laugh with him, “I’m so tired, I can’t even think or talk straight!” But, his arrogant eyes narrowed, seeing right through her forced laugh. Escape to the bathroom, she instructed herself, but her legs wobbled and she stumbled. Of all times for her leg weakness to kick in! This instigated more heckling, louder and more obnoxious, drawing the attention of several people she supervised. She felt her credibility slipping away. In a rush of emotion and defensiveness, she almost blurted ‘it’ out into the air like a quest for legitimacy. But the voice in her mind reminded her, ‘Bathroom!’ and she escaped.