My very first metal concert in the chair..

Let me just say, if I thought there would be a mosh pit at HIM I would have NEVER ever EVER tried to be in front.. But HIM is not mosh metal. It's sway metal.. It's shut up and listen to the music and enjoy metal. 

It was April 14th, 2010. I was beyond excited, HIM (one of my all time FAVOURITE bands ever) was coming to Edmonton. Now the last time HIM had come to Edmonton.. Me and my friend Chantal had went but I wasn't in the chair and I was under 18, so I had pre-drank and literally felt like puking.. So this time dammit, I would stay sober.. and hopefully.. you know.. get to see most of the show lol.

We get to West Edmonton Mall in a handivan taxi well in advance and decide to dick around for a while.. We play in the arcade, go to Millenium, inhabit the Disney store.. Go to Hooters..

PICTURE TIME!
 Dan and I and lower in the right hand side is me and Corrie Ann!

All is fine and well and then we decide to see if we can maybe get in early. I hate crowds.. It's not so bad if I have something to focus on, but the more and more I focus on being in a line, or moving forward I start to have anxiety issues. We score getting in early, and take the spot right up front! Right by the microphone stand! YAY!

Now for those of you who don't know, HIM (and Nightwish both) were there for me in a very, very dark time. After I had got out of the hospital my mother had (and had always had for that matter) an alcohol problem.. The problem being that she gets mean.. terribly mean. Emotionally, physically and verbally abusive. My father died when I was four, so I had nowhere to go. My grandmother had practically raised me my entire life.. I lived with my mother, sure, but I was never more than a block away from my grandmother at all times and I never EVER wanted to be at home. When my grandmother died when I was fourteen, I damn near lost it. Between being a teenager, not knowing my place in this world, and being disabled and having all these feeling that I just didn't know what to do with.. I had it pretty rough, in my mind at least. I tried commiting suicide at least three times that I'm actually semi coherently aware of, but the entire summer following my grandmothers death is a blur. All I know, and believe me I know it sounds corny.. But Ocean Soul By Nightwish and Fortress of Tears by HIM pulled me through it. It didn't make it any easier to deal with the pain, but it pulled me through it, if that makes any sense? It might not..

So anyways, I'm pretty fucking stoked to see this band, and to see them live. So.. "Drive A" comes on.. And they are like.. Punk? Not my kinda music, but.. eh. I'll live! People start to get rowdy and crowd surfy, but basically the security guard is like "Uh no, fuck off." and they calm down.

 Dommin comes on and yessss!!!!!!! LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE! I love Dommin, for what they did for me after the show as well!!  (I'll tell you about that later)

And then the shit really starts to hit the fan. As We Are the Fallen hits the stage, and people start to realize HIM will be on in half an hour, they start pushing to the front of 1000 people already. My wheelchair is moving around, but thanks to my sainted husband and My other friend Corrie Ann, who are basically my human shields, it's not too bad. The security guys have to intervene a few times because my legs were being slammed into the grate.. But for HIM..? Eh, I'd deal with a few bruises!

When We Are the Fallen finally finishes (BTW, could he have gotten anymore of an Amy Lee look a like?!? And sound a like? SERIOUSLY?!) people started to tone it down a bit..

When HIM comes on though, everything, and I do mean everything goes to shit. Girls happen to be crazy bitches for your information, and they are pissed and trying to jump over me to get to Ville Valo.. Like he's just going to fuck you on stage.. Really?! GAH. By this time, I'm getting thrown around, but I'm still in a great mood! Dan and Corrie Ann are protecting me, and trying to keep the crowd from smashing me.. I'm singing along to "Heartkiller" and then something hits me in the back of the head, knocking my glasses to the floor. I remember this girl, with long blue hair in dreads.. She threw a beer bottle at me, broke my glasses, whipped ice at my eye, and somehow managed to, while all the chaos was going on in the pit punch me in the head because she wanted my spot.. directly in front of Ville.

At this point, I'm crying and I've had enough. The problem is there is literally shit disturbers in every direction. To the left of us, there's people trying to mosh, to the  right, crazy girls, behind us.. crazy girls! To the right CRAZY GIRLS! The security guards can't keep them at bay anymore and I decide to leave. I signal the security guard. He tries desperately, but he just can't get the 1000-some odd people behind us to move. I'm crying hardcore, and bleeding, from a rather odd cut on my head. I hear Ville stop his song and yell, "Look you fuckers, MOVE! Let these people out, she is in a wheelchair!" Well, The sea parted, and they let me through.  People were high fiving me as I left, and I was crying pretty badly.


We got a little bit away and management came up to me and insisted that we never should have been there in the first place and that the second floor is ideal for seeing shows for disabled people..  So we went up there.. I couldn't see, couldn't hear anything but muffled singing and drums. Awesome

 I'm sitting there silently crying because I get to miss the show I paid for just like everyone else. First of all,  am I the only one who sees something wrong with this? I paid my fair share just like everyone else, why am I being singled out? Why is it because I am in the fucking wheelchair I get to miss my show? 


My friend Corrie Ann eventually brought Dommin back up to me and I got a picture with them! 

See how thrilled I look?! Crying all night can do that to you, I assure you. But Dommin were extraaaa sweet! <3 Thanks boys, btw!


And that's why I decided ultimately to do this damn blog, because we metal headed wheelchair folk.. Well, we're just fucking awesome. I wanted to shed some light on the sheer amount of crap we go through to see our bands. <3 Oh, and I would totally do it all again just for a chance to see HIM live again. haha. <3


-Bailey Dawn

I suppose I should tell you where this all began, hmmm?  Well, when I was in elementary I'll fully admit to rocking out to Backstreet Boys, N'Sync and Britney Spears. And I still do occasionally! Truth be told, I'm really picky about my metal. But I'm finding more and more that I like, just gotta dig through a bit.

I'm going to describe to you first why I'm in the chair, because it's quite a difficult story to get through and I'm only going to really explain it once in detail. I had a brain tumor when I was very young, they actually think that it might have started growing before I was born. (but it was such a slow growing thing that it just lied undetected for such a large amount of time) My biggest symptom was a tremor that developed in my right arm, so much so that my violin lessons were hard on my hands and I started leaving it at home (on purpose) so as not to have to face my teacher who would yell at me and "tap" the back of my hand. I eventually started to switch to using my left hand to write and that's when they found out. I was in the hospital for months. Someone brought me Nightwish's "Century Child" in that time (Aha, yay Nightwish <3) and three brain surgeries later.. they managed to get a peice of it out. At a terrible cost though.. They damaged a nerve on the left side of my brain. Which of course controls the right side of your body..  They told my mom I would be a vegetable.. They told her I would die, they told her I would never talk again. Boy, they didn't know me very well. I think I did it all just to prove them wrong. In the next few months, despite the fact I knew I was dying (a rather peaceful feeling, I must admit) I was 100% okay with it. One night I complained of a headache to my mom.. Off to the emergency we went and I had grown two cysts in my brain.. The bigger one grew upwards and had split my brain just enough and the smaller one was growing towards my brain stem. A miracle indeed.  When they went in to get rid of them, the surgeon noticed that it was parted enough to get it out.. He told my mom that the chances of me living with the surgery being done with next to none.. Without it were nothing.. I would be a vegetable, I would not walk. My mom told him to go for it. Well.. They did the surgery..  At 12 years old, they got the tumor out.

I was left with lasting effects of course.  I did walk, until I was roughly 18 or so. I've had arm, leg surgeries to try to help. But ultimately the battle was lost. I can walk, it's just ultimately safer for me not to. I trip, I fall, I tire easily, I have no ankle movement, and I swing my leg way too much and will need a knee/hip replacement by the time I'm 30, for sure.. Also, the chair has allowed me to do so much more that I couldn't. Go to school, do everyday things that most people do.. Unfortunately it also is a catch 22, as you are about to see. Well, here is where my story begins, I suppose. <3 I will regail you with many tales within the next few months I'm sure!