'How many deaths will it take to be told that too many people have died?'
Over the centuries, disability has been hidden. The blind ninety-year-old Dandolo breached the walls of Constantinople. Paralyzed from the waist down, wheelchair-bound Roosevelt stood propped up for public pictures. The one-armed Nelson won the Battle of Trafalgar. Each were so successful, they couldn't be classed as disabled.
English history forgot one hundred poor souls, who probably never made it to the battle between Oliver Cromwell and his Roundhead cavalry, who went on to defeat King Charles 1's at the Battle of Marston Moor in 1644.
Recently found in mass graves at a ruined York church, 113 skeletons were arranged neatly in parallel rows, mostly laid on their side or face down in the dirt. No buckles, buttons or jewellery were found, indicating they were probably buried naked. Given the probable 17th century date, it is likely that they relate to the largest battle in the Civil War.
Evidence suggests that the bodies could well have been Cromwell's soldiers who died from disease while laying siege to the city. Although the Royalist army was well-provided for behind the city walls, the besieging Parliamentary forces suffered severe deprivation, making them susceptible to illness and diseases such as dysentery and typhoid. Most of the skeletons had old broken bones and signs of past infection. Back then, they wrapped a wound with honey and oats as an antibiotic.
There was no such thing as disability in those days. People were just who they were. They got on with life as best they could and probably banded together for mutual support. Army life would have offered them a living, where they could do ancillary jobs like guarding the ammunition or working in the kitchens.
I'm too soft to have survived during those times. Perhaps we should try harder to manage unaided—those of us who can.