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THE DAILY ASTORIAN • FRIDAY, OCTOBER 27, 2017
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Choosing to live
as though I have
nothing to lose
By JOAN HERMAN
For The Daily Astorian
F
or some 16 hours a day, my “home”
of sorts is my cherry-red power
wheelchair.
It is a feat of technology, a beast
of a chair that navi-
gates even Astoria’s
steepest grades. It can
tilt far back and extend
my legs straight out,
almost to the point of
inversion to relieve
chronic swelling in my
lower limbs. And no
matter where I go, I always have a seat.
And yet …
I often fi nd myself consumed, at least
momentarily, if not longer, by envy and
resentment, even (or especially) of those I
love. A part of me dreads seeing the travel
pictures of exotic places around the world,
posted on Facebook by friends I truly am
happy for. I dreamed of traveling in retire-
ment, and even earlier. Now, logistically and
fi nancially, I don’t see that, nor many other
activities I would love to do, happening.
I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis 19
years ago after experiencing an increasingly
fl oppy left foot when I ran. Gradually, my
mobility has become further restricted, to the
point that I am now in a wheelchair full-time.
Many people with MS never experience sig-
nifi cant disability — and some of us do.
Eight years ago, when I was considerably
more mobile, a physical therapist I was work-
ing with warned me never to allow myself to
start using a wheelchair because once some-
one starts, there’s no turning back. I distinctly
remember assuring her that I would not allow
that to happen. Was it denial or arrogance that
made me assume I could predict or stop the
course of the disease?
I surrendered to using a wheelchair in the
spring of 2014. I was falling at least daily
and struggling mightily simply to get ready
for the day. The wheelchair was a means to
keep working at Lower Columbia College in
Longview, Washington.
I took great pride in working, particularly
as an English instructor at a community col-
lege. I was a tenured faculty member, a cov-
eted position which I had worked hard to
achieve. I was not about to lightly give it up.
Some three years later, with the luxury of
hindsight, I realize that I really didn’t have a
choice.
In my weaker moments, I admit to feeling
sorry for myself, to feeling as though I drew
the short straw.
And yet … I am not writing these words
to garner pity or even compassion. As much
as I hate this disease, I am acutely aware that
I am far from alone on this planet in my suf-
fering. In fact, my ordeal, as hard as it is, is
far less than that of millions — if not billions
— of my fellow humans in the world.
None of us is guaranteed anything. None
of us gets out unscathed. What is true is that
I am alive today. And, perhaps surprisingly,
most of the time I am happy.
I have much to be grateful for, not the
least of which is the chance to retire early —
because of my disability. I’m still young, rel-
atively speaking, with energy and a desire to
contribute.
Although there are so many activities
I would love to do but can’t — the recent
bridge run comes to mind, driving to see my
sister in Seattle, another — there is still so
much that I can.
So I have jumped head-fi rst into volun-
teering in the community: as a cruise host
greeting passengers from around the world
who disembark from the mammoth ships that
dock at the port; as a member of the grassroots
progressive organization Indivisible North
Coast Oregon; and as a part-time reception-
ist for Coast Community Radio, where I also
have my own public affairs program.
I love radio for many reasons, not the least
of which is its invisibility. Listeners judge
me only by my voice and my words, not my
appearance. They cannot feel sorry for me
sitting in my wheelchair because they can-
not see me.
I think of the late Apple co-founder Steve
Jobs’ words: “Remembering that you are
going to die is the best way I know to avoid
the trap of thinking you have something to
lose.”
I am choosing to live with that spirit in
mind.
Life
Courtesy Joan Herman
Joan Herman, far right, in the studio for an interview at Coast Community Radio. From left: Tessa James Scheller,
LaNicia Williams and Andy Marshall.
‘NONE OF US IS GUARANTEED ANYTHING.
NONE OF US GETS OUT UNSCATHED. WHAT IS TRUE
IS THAT I AM ALIVE TODAY. AND, PERHAPS
SURPRISINGLY, MOST OF THE TIME I AM HAPPY.’
Courtesy Joan Herman
Joan Herman, in purple, participates in an Indivisible North Coast Oregon rally in downtown Astoria earlier this year.
Courtesy Joan Herman
Photo by Bill Wagner/The Daily News
Joan Herman teaching persuasive writing at Lower Columbia
College in Longview, Washington, circa 2010.
Herman, right, at her final graduation as a facul-
ty member at Lower Columbia College, with her
friend and former teaching partner, Dr. Court-
ney Shah.