In her latest column for KentOnline, Broadstairs writer and dominatrix Melissa Todd uncovers the abuse faced by those living with ‘hidden’ disabilities...

This week I worked with Mark Bailey, an exceptionally talented photographer. We first met at a studio in Rochester which features assorted horror props, a swing, aerial hoop and an electric chair, all of which we fully exploited and enjoyed.

Mark also has Parkinson’s. He was first diagnosed in 2019, after noticing a tremor in his left hand a few years before.

Far from allowing it to interfere with life, he’s begun a new career at the QEQM hospital in Margate, working long shifts on the St Augustine’s Ward, and also raising hundreds of pounds for Parkinson’s UK by walking 70 miles in seven days.

He gives talks on the condition - the last attended by more than 200 people - and offers training in providing care to others suffering from the disease.

Reasonably he’s been too busy to work with me for a few months, so before we got going we had a wee catch up over coffee, and I asked after his health. He sighed.

“You know the worst thing about my condition? Not its physical restrictions, although they’re bad enough. It’s the lack of understanding I face from other people.

“One woman accused me of being an alcoholic recently. Actually, I hear that quite a lot.

“Another confronted me aggressively when I parked in a disabled bay at a supermarket. ‘Doesn’t look to be much wrong with you!’, she shouted. I explained I have Parkinson’s, epilepsy, osteo-arthritis and diabetes. ‘My, my, isn’t that convenient!’ she screamed. In my face.”

Convenient isn’t the word I’d pick for his array of life-altering conditions.

I imagine this woman as squat, red-faced, squinty-eyed, with a bristly, dribbly chin: we all possess prejudices.

It surprised me, the depth of her ignorance, and also her enthusiasm for displaying it, given those little signs you see all over, on cars and outside disabled loos: Not all disabilities are visible.

Mark shrugs. “I showed her my tremor. Did she want me to go into a diabetic coma to placate her?”

25% of those whose disabilities aren’t visible - including those with hearing and visual difficulties, learning difficulties and mental health problems - have experienced abuse.

People with colostomy bags often speak of the difficulties they suffer accessing disabled toilets, and the fury they face if they manage it.

I heard of a woman serving at a deli counter in Broadstairs being harangued by a customer. “Who let you work here? It’s disgusting. You shouldn’t be allowed near food.” The woman had breast cancer.

Mark continued. “Organisations and individuals often ask if you are ‘registered disabled’ - but there is no registry of disability. People have an idea only being in a wheelchair is ‘proper’ disability, and even then often suggest people in wheelchairs might be faking.”

Just last week, a mum was left feeling “embarrassed and traumatised” after staff at a Kent animal park asked for proof of her daughter’s disability.

“I showed her my tremor. Did she want me to go into a diabetic coma to placate her?”

The government have announced recently they’re investigating everyone getting disability benefits as potential fraudsters, even though it’s incredibly difficult to get those benefits. They must surely take some responsibility for the rage and suspicion the disabled face.

As must the media.

Last week The Telegraph published an online tool to help its readers calculate how much of their salaries went to the welfare state, specifically those granted an indefinite exemption from finding employment, ie. the sick and disabled.

In language reminiscent of Nazi propaganda, whose posters referred to the disabled as “useless eaters” and displayed the cost of each disabled person, they are encouraging their readers to find out how much of a burden the disabled might be on them.

Can we be surprised the disabled so often received abuse, rather than understanding and compassion?

The disability charity Scope published an open letter to the British media, asking that the way the disabled are presented should be more thoughtful and positive, rather than openly debating how lazy, workshy, deceitful and pointless those claiming disability benefits might be.

Until the narrative shifts, I fear my mate Mark, and others less able to cope, will continue to face aggressive cat-calling in car parks.