I thought I would simply get a bit of air and exercise, purchase a phone card and return home. What happened instead is something that most of those whom I know as wheelchair users dread...
About three-quarters of the way there, despite vigilant attention to the surroundings, I suddenly veered from the sidewalk into the grassy ravine as my chair fell sideways and I was pitched out rather unceremoniously on my side. Rolling carefully on to my backside, I sat for a moment, trying to figure out how I was going to right the chair, lock it and get myself up and seated correctly.
Determining that the only thing that was hurt was my pride, I was about to reach for my mobile when several strangers approached, offering help. One was a woman with a young girl and the others were men. One got the chair up and locked and then assisted me while the lady helped me up. The whole thing was over in a flash and as I thanked each of them for stopping, several things were rolling around in my brain.
One involves our notions of independence. I think of myself as an independent women, even as I understand that my independence is different from that which I had while walking. Because of the balance and gait issues involved in my original disability, cerebral palsy, I fell a lot as a child and so learned how to fall. I never suffered a broken bone, sprain or further head injury as a result and was extremely active until the age of 50 when my right knee became so badly damaged from wear and tear and thus unstable and painful, that my doctor and physiotherapists felt a chair was in my best interest because total knee replacement would be of no benefit to me.
Prior to this event, I walked a lot, despite worsening arthritis, taking stairs, doing yoga, swimming and horseback riding. I also did most of my own housekeeping until a back problem developed after I was rear-ended in a car in 2004.
Learning to live from a chair is no easy task, but live, I do. So do many other wheelchair users. Before getting my chair, there were many times I was simply stuck at home and falling accidents were increasingly the order of the day because my battered leg would give out anywhere. I have the scars to prove it as well as capped teeth, despite having learned how to fall as a kid, and have learned myriad things in the almost four years since getting my chair.
Independence changes with time and one must adapt. I have gone from working to not, from driving to not, from standing and walking to standing rarely. Public and para transit transportation require advance reservations and planning, which means I must be organised. Outings such as the one today require constant attention to traffic, noise, terrane, weather and other people or animals that may be about. Gravity, particularly on a downward slope, can assist, but one must hold on to slow its impact and avoid crashing.
I have become adept at time management, organisation, planning and thinking outside the box. I also understand, however, that there are real limits to things for me as well as in the world, something many people never seem to learn. I sometimes reach mine and resort to sarcasm or gallows humour and I have never been afraid to speak up or say thank you when people are genuinely kind.
Do I sometimes wish my life was different or somehow less complicated? You bet...
But what I wish more is that our so-called accessible thoroughfares were actually so and that I did not need to blog about these issues as often as I do. I take nothing for granted and wish I did not have to roll heads in order for the non-disabled portion of the population to get the message.
I am not embarrassed that I fell as much as I am grateful that I will live to see another day...and on this note, I bid you all good night.
6 comments:
It's a fragile thing, independence. I'm aware of my husband's frustration at loss of balance - the things he can't do any more - and your post has made me think of how our lives have changed to adapt to his problems.
Put legislators in wheelchairs for six months...we might see changes.
Glad you're O.K. Can we design a chair with out-riggers like a trimaran, for balance? Of course I'd also advocate knives on the wheel-rims, Ben Hur style, to clear a path and get some respect. My friend on wheels taught me what a nightmare it can be when motorists park across the dipped sidewalk access points. Maybe those should get a special color-coded paint to draw attention to them.
Yikes. So sorry that happened, and thank goodness you're OK and some people were around to help out. (Though I'm sure you could have managed if need be.) I'm sure I have no idea what it means to face the daily challenges involved with being in a chair.
You asked about removing blogs from your reading list. I usually click on everyone's blogs from my own blog's sidebar, and you don't seem to have a sidebar of blog links (not that I can find anyway). So this may not work for you. But when I'm on my home page and logged in, I can click on the little tool symbols next to the list of linked blogs and that gives me a screen where I can add and delete them.
You may also be able to make adjustments through your blog "dashboard" page. Hope this helps!
I dunno you sound pretty independent to me. You had a mishap *shrug* if that had happened in some American cities you would have had people reaching into your purse or pockets looking for things to steal.
I have 9 fused vertebrae and I could go through the whole damn list of maladies from having my left eye crushed to working on a Thursday and being forced off my job and onto disability the next day. No time to prepare, 45 years old and useless.
But seriously what good would it do. All being disabled has taught me is how little other people think of them they are surrounded by when they act. *shrug* So I have to constantly be on the look out for them that would prefer me stay out of their way. I am not in a chair yet and refuse to use my cane. I think I have one more major accident in me yet and then I will quit, stay home and say they won. They're ignorant actions which damaged another beyond repair won and the worst of it will be they will curse me for being in their way.
I have a patient ho has been in a wheelchair since a bad auto accident - we were talking about the whole independence issue. It's tough. But good to know that people were so ready to help. We're wired to need each other, I think.
Knowing how to fall is important. I am glad others were there for you.
Post a Comment