A few days ago (again with the FB…) I posted a video of Sir Patrick Stewart (Captain Picard, wheelchair dude from X-Men) addressing a group about violence against women and post-traumatic stress for veterans. Having just been assured by two women at a writing group that it was okay for a man to shake a woman he was angry with, I felt the need to have someone else loudly proclaim that violence is never the answer and to then receive a round of applause. That video met the need handsomely. (Literally. He’s a handsome man.)
What I found more captivating than his speech, however, was the way he stood, arms crossed in front of him, one hand clenching and clawing at his sleeve. I recognise that move. Any arthritic recognises that move. Call it “The Clench”–it’s a dead give-away that the person is arthritic and not in a mild, one-finger-hurts-when-it-rains kind of way. I swore then in my FB post that he has arthritis.
This afternoon I finally got around to googling “Patrick Stewart arthritis”. Apparently he is a red-letter sufferer, public about the problem and mentioned in some arthritis groups as a sort of Pop Culture Patron Saint of Arthritics Everywhere. {As an aside, I truly do not get this need that people have to find a celebrity with their problem/issue/concern so that they can validate their problem/issue/concern. Does arthritis “count” more now that Patrick Stewart has it?} So I guess instead of being all Sherlock Holmes-y on the YouTube video I could have been more up on Patrick Stewart in general and I would have found out that way. Oh well.
What compelled me to keyboard was the fact that there was a fan account of meeting him wherein the fan waited on line for a long time and was disgruntled that Stewart wouldn’t shake his hand or even give him a fist-bump. When the fan-wrangler had to explain that Sir Patrick (he actually called him Sir Patrick…) has arthritis the fan was pretty irritated.
I can’t count the number of times I’ve had people irritated when I won’t shake their hands. In fact, it’s gotten to be so irritating to me that I no longer refuse to shake hands. I would rather put up with the slices of lightning that wrap around my fingers and shoot up my arm than to suffer under the laser glare of someone’s automatic decision that I am a bitch who is too bitchy to live.
By and large I’m glad that my disability is not visible in the way a missing limb or an eye patch would be. Folks can’t just look at me and know (unless they are a sufferer themselves and aware of the signs) what hurts, why and how bad. I’m like that commercial a few years ago for fibromyalgia where they show black animated fog superimposed over the parts of the woman’s hurting body while they told us loudly that Fibromyalgia Is Real. (No kidding…thanks for waiting for a saleable drug to get on board with that one, medical industry!) The animated fog superimposed on my joints would be red and make me look like I’d fallen in a vat of Buster Bluth’s juice*. But you’d better believe I’ll shake your hand. It’s just one more way to get by in an ableist world by faking ability.
Props to Patrick, er, Sir Patrick Stewart for drawing a line in the sand. But man, I sure would love a day when we arthritics don’t get lambasted for “impersonal” behaviour when we give in to our limitations.
(“You mean we have unlimited juice? This party is gonna be OFF THE HOOK!”)
Just Another Pretty Farce 
A warm “I’m sorry, but my hands hurt today. How good to see you” seems like it would work, but your experience suggests that it doesn’t. I agree that it’s tricky to interpret the unwillingness to shake a hand — I am closely acquainted with someone who claims to be a germphobe when she doesn’t want to shake the hands of those she considers her social inferiors (because they are dirty, you see…) It makes me ill to see the shame in her victims’ eyes as they infer why she won’t touch them.
Urgh. Now I’m going to feel even more guilty when I won’t shake hands.
I’ve tried every possible thing, including your suggestion. But NM pretty much nails it when she describes the standard interaction. It’s not something you notice until you have to notice it.
But no, I’d never refuse to touch any person because of her “station in life”. No way.
I just can’t see the term Fist Bump without thinking about Fox News reporting on the Obamas’ “terrorist fist jab.”
But seriously, how self-centered must someone be to get miffed about not shaking hands after it’s explained to them that such an activity causes excruciating pain to the other party?
I’ve wondered the same thing. But in one particular case the man–a minister no less–was both shocked and angry. It was very VERY strange.
Bridgett, people stick their hands out. In the five seconds or so that it takes to use the utterly reasonable and polite phrases you suggest, they stand there, still with their hands out, waiting for you to shake. Then, after another second or so in which they process what you have said, they have to put the hand down. This puts them on the defensive because it suggests that they have done something wrong. When I’m having a flareup I try exclaiming “gently!” as they reach for my hand. Sometimes that works, because it’s quick and the fact that I’m exclaiming draws attention to the fact that there might be some pain involved. And then I follow up with an explanation. But mostly, like Coble, I just give in to the fact that I’m expected to shake hands with people.
You did a really good job of explaining what is an automatic, long-conditioned, response for most people. I never really paid attention to the ritual until it became something I HAD to pay attention to for my own sake.
My rheumatologist’s solution is to always shake hands but to “match the grip of the other person.” Which is fine if he’s matching me. But I surely can’t match the grip of, say, the guy who came to sign our refinance documents. Mr. Former Pro Baseball Player really put all of his “I’m the Dominant Man” into it. What fun.
I remember my grandmother had that – really bad. Toward the end her hands were actually deformed so she didn’t have that shaking hands problem, I guess. Awful stuff.