The side aisle was wide so I could easily get up and move over to the side near a door with a nice tall plant so I would not disturbed anyone. So I had thought. Then there was the usher. A tall nice looking lady, with a military presence, saunters up to me and whispers, “Sir, you’ll have to sit down. This area can only be used by persons in wheelchairs.”
“Ma’am, I have Restless Legs Syndrome and I’m unable to sit any longer but I want to see my granddaughter dance.”
“Well, you’ll have to get a wheelchair if you don’t want to sit in a seat.”
“Ma’am, I couldn’t even sit in a wheelchair.”
“Well, then you’ll have to leave. That’s the rule.”
Whereupon she ushers me out the door – all of which was more disturbing to the people sitting near my wife than if I’d stood and walked around the whole time. I stayed close to the door out in the mezzanine and was able to hear the music and determine that it was near the right time. Luckily, a man came out that door at the right moment and in I slipped. My granddaughter was on stage doing her thing. But before her part was over, I felt the presence of the military again. I said, “Ma’am, that’s my granddaughter up there and I’m staying for her performance.”
The lady left, but before my granddaughter’s act was finished, the usher returned with reinforcement and I had to duck out the door fast. I was miserable with my afternoon attack of WED/RLS, but their misunderstanding and refusal to listen made me even more uncomfortable. And this is not the only time that a similar thing has occurred. The misery of WED/RLS.
About the guest blogger:
Ed Murfin,
now 78 years old, is a former Support Group Leader from Jacksonville, Florida
and has been a Foundation Advocate/Contact for northeast Florida and southeast
Georgia since 2008. He is looking to
plan a regional educational meeting in Florida at the Mayo Clinic in late 2014.