In most of the 1980’s, I was living in Washington, D.C., working in corporate America, waking up at 6 am, rushing with my coffee while I brushed my teeth and put on my pinstripe suit and yellow power tie, and drove to work, arriving before rush hour. Only to to experience panic and anxiety until daybreak.

After a major heart attack, a burst appendicitis, a dysfunctional vagus nerve (requiring an implant) and a myriad of other health problems, I was put on the corporate sidelines, and, doctors said I would not be working again. I was only forty years old.

I was now considered officially disabled. I did not buy the term. I bought an old used pc and learned all I could about the Internet. I learned how to be a cartoonist and writer. I learned how to outsource and license the manufacturing of my image products. I became a successful E-entrepreneur within a few years, and the government still treated me as if I was useless to society. After all, I was disabled which can carry a lifetime stigma.

So I built the most popular offbeat cartoon site on the web and twelve licensed image specialty stores. Told social security. “Sorry you are disabled”.

At age 47. I went back to college and even received a scholarship, completed 3 years but had to drop due to health reasons. It was not an easy college, a small (known to be difficult) private school. I made good grades. Still, I was disabled. I was beginning to realize the scars a label like “disabled” can make. They are deep and they fester. I do not feel disabled. I am a hard and honest worker. I know many others who were also put on the corporate sidelines. That could be why there are now approximately 30 million home office workers in the U.S. and, ironically provide more jobs while major corporations are downsizing.

I let the government know of my activities, yet they simply ignored my suggestion that maybe a disability is not a disability at all. If one really wants to do something, it can be done.

As I mentioned, being disabled is not bad at all. I am very productive and able to work from my home. Being labeled disabled is a whole different story. It closes doors that should not be closed, not just to me, but to many who deserve a chance. Next time you meet a person who is “disabled”, take a closer look. Chances are he/she has more abilities than disabilities.