That day, as usual, I went shopping at the nearby supermarket. I don’t like to depend on others, so I try to handle everyday tasks myself: choosing products, going to the post office, paying bills. It gives me the feeling that I still control my life.

I was rolling between the aisles, carefully looking at the products. The basket on my lap was already half full. Turning into another aisle, I accidentally bumped the wheel of my wheelchair against a man’s foot who was standing with his back to me.

“Sorry,” I said immediately, stopping. “I really didn’t see you.”

It seemed like a normal situation: you bump into someone, apologize, and move on. But not this time. The man spun around sharply and literally exploded with anger.

“I don’t care about your apologies!” he shouted so loudly that people at the other end of the aisle turned around. “Who’s going to pay for my treatment, huh? You injured me!”

I tried once again to calmly explain that it was an accident, but he seemed to be just waiting for an excuse to lash out. His face twisted, and he started hurling insults: