by Tdarcos » Tue Jul 29, 2008 7:17 pm
I haven't said much about this because I didn't really want to make too much of an issue out of it.
I happen to be disabled; I can neither walk nor stand and am confined to a wheelchair.
My friend Ben knew me back in the days when I could walk, which is roughly about 3 years ago. I since have worn out my knees and become unable to walk as a result. My knees are not load bearing, but I can move my legs. This means, for example, if I can get my chair close enough I can slide over and transfer to the back seat of a cab, or transfer out of my chair to a seat on a bus.
I'm not "crippled"; I can move around, I am able to drive if I can get into an automobile (possible for most low-level cars, for example, not possible for minivans and small trucks). I can also get out to buy food, do my laundry, etc.
But it still sucks being handicapped. It's a lot of little things, like being two inches too short to reach something, or finding out someone has placed something just out of reach.
Consider this: think of me like an ordinary person. Draw a circle three feet in diameter with me in the center (basically the length of my arms). Anything outside that circle, if I can't approach it, might as well be 100 miles away.
One example. I was in Washington, D.C. last week (I live about a mile outside in Maryland) drinking a bottle of Mountain Dew, and finished it, then went to toss it into the trash can on the street. (Many of these DC public trash cans are taller than I am such that I may have to aim UP to put the bottle in it.) Son-of-a-bitch bounces off the can, lands on the sidewalk, rolls forward and falls off the curb.
My reach ends basically at the bottom of my wheelchair, so that if something is close - as in next to me - and on the ground, I can reach it. If there is a curb, I can't reach it and it might as well be in Cleveland.
And there are other things. I have two wheelchairs because, unfortunately, the door to the room I rent is not wide enough to allow a wheelchair to pass through. This means I put a chair on one side and a chair on the other side, and when positioned near each other correctly, I can slide across.
Well, if I happen to be outside or ask for help and have someone go back into my room to get something for me, if they are unaware or make a mistake and put the other chair more than three feet from the door, I can't get back into the room. This happened today. I have spare special chairs, that is, ordinary office-type chairs which have no arms, and have four straight legs. They sell for just under $30 in Staples or Office Depot. I put one in the door, slide over to it, and fortunately because the room I rent has a wood floor rather than carpet, I can slide across the room about ten feet to where the other wheelchair was located. Then, I have to drag it back to the entrance, so I can get back out of the room back into the outside wheelchair, so I can remove the office chair and put it back outside (I don't have enough room in my room to keep the chair in here.)
Oh there are other things, but this is where it starts.
I haven't said much about this because I didn't really want to make too much of an issue out of it.
I happen to be disabled; I can neither walk nor stand and am confined to a wheelchair.
My friend Ben knew me back in the days when I could walk, which is roughly about 3 years ago. I since have worn out my knees and become unable to walk as a result. My knees are not load bearing, but I can move my legs. This means, for example, if I can get my chair close enough I can slide over and transfer to the back seat of a cab, or transfer out of my chair to a seat on a bus.
I'm not "crippled"; I can move around, I am able to drive if I can get into an automobile (possible for most low-level cars, for example, not possible for minivans and small trucks). I can also get out to buy food, do my laundry, etc.
But it still sucks being handicapped. It's a lot of little things, like being two inches too short to reach something, or finding out someone has placed something just out of reach.
Consider this: think of me like an ordinary person. Draw a circle three feet in diameter with me in the center (basically the length of my arms). Anything outside that circle, if I can't approach it, might as well be 100 miles away.
One example. I was in Washington, D.C. last week (I live about a mile outside in Maryland) drinking a bottle of Mountain Dew, and finished it, then went to toss it into the trash can on the street. (Many of these DC public trash cans are taller than I am such that I may have to aim UP to put the bottle in it.) Son-of-a-bitch bounces off the can, lands on the sidewalk, rolls forward and falls off the curb.
My reach ends basically at the bottom of my wheelchair, so that if something is close - as in next to me - and on the ground, I can reach it. If there is a curb, I can't reach it and it might as well be in Cleveland.
And there are other things. I have two wheelchairs because, unfortunately, the door to the room I rent is not wide enough to allow a wheelchair to pass through. This means I put a chair on one side and a chair on the other side, and when positioned near each other correctly, I can slide across.
Well, if I happen to be outside or ask for help and have someone go back into my room to get something for me, if they are unaware or make a mistake and put the other chair more than three feet from the door, I can't get back into the room. This happened today. I have spare special chairs, that is, ordinary office-type chairs which have no arms, and have four straight legs. They sell for just under $30 in Staples or Office Depot. I put one in the door, slide over to it, and fortunately because the room I rent has a wood floor rather than carpet, I can slide across the room about ten feet to where the other wheelchair was located. Then, I have to drag it back to the entrance, so I can get back out of the room back into the outside wheelchair, so I can remove the office chair and put it back outside (I don't have enough room in my room to keep the chair in here.)
Oh there are other things, but this is where it starts.