Our flat is wheelchair accessible, or at least I think it is. To be more accurate our flat is me-in-a-wheelchair accessible which, I am coming to realise, is not necessarily the same thing.
It's not that I have had many other visitors come to test it. Which is strange in a way. Yes, some of my best friends are wheelchair users, but my encounters with them are all elsewhere. This is not a deliberate policy, but I had to think about how many other people in wheelchairs had visited our flat. I think perhaps two. That's two visits in five years.
What got me thinking about this was an increasing sense of pride in my ability to overcome obstacles or unsuitable facilities. If we stay in a hotel, all I request (apart from no stairs) is that the doors are sufficiently wide (and my chair is a slim 64cms. Narrow enough to pass easily through a standard width doorway), and a bath, rather than a shower cubicle.
Yes, I start by requesting a fully accessible room with a shower seat in the bathroom, but the reality is that these are few and far between. And such rooms often feel institutional, with twin single beds and lino floors.
If I stay with friends, then I strap on (oo-err) my 'all-rounder' and take to the stairs, bum-first. Yes, it's hard work, but it does mean a more 'normal' life. I can stay, I can use the bathroom, I don't have to sleep on the couch/in the dog basket/in the shed.
But I'm also conscious that I'm at the more active end of the paraplegic spectrum (and that one day I won't be). And as I get on with life at home I am starting to notice the things that are just a bit of hassle for me but would be impossible for many wheelchair users.
One day...one day...
A house with wide hallways that I can turn around in, more shelf space at a lower height, an easily accessible garden (ours has a flight of eight steps down from a balcony), and most holy of holies, a garage for me to put all my wheelchairs, bikes, trikes, spare cushions, wheels and tyres in. Oh, and a studio.
Maybe I'll even get a wheelchair and a computer all to myself...
It's not that I have had many other visitors come to test it. Which is strange in a way. Yes, some of my best friends are wheelchair users, but my encounters with them are all elsewhere. This is not a deliberate policy, but I had to think about how many other people in wheelchairs had visited our flat. I think perhaps two. That's two visits in five years.
What got me thinking about this was an increasing sense of pride in my ability to overcome obstacles or unsuitable facilities. If we stay in a hotel, all I request (apart from no stairs) is that the doors are sufficiently wide (and my chair is a slim 64cms. Narrow enough to pass easily through a standard width doorway), and a bath, rather than a shower cubicle.
Yes, I start by requesting a fully accessible room with a shower seat in the bathroom, but the reality is that these are few and far between. And such rooms often feel institutional, with twin single beds and lino floors.
If I stay with friends, then I strap on (oo-err) my 'all-rounder' and take to the stairs, bum-first. Yes, it's hard work, but it does mean a more 'normal' life. I can stay, I can use the bathroom, I don't have to sleep on the couch/in the dog basket/in the shed.
But I'm also conscious that I'm at the more active end of the paraplegic spectrum (and that one day I won't be). And as I get on with life at home I am starting to notice the things that are just a bit of hassle for me but would be impossible for many wheelchair users.
One day...one day...
A house with wide hallways that I can turn around in, more shelf space at a lower height, an easily accessible garden (ours has a flight of eight steps down from a balcony), and most holy of holies, a garage for me to put all my wheelchairs, bikes, trikes, spare cushions, wheels and tyres in. Oh, and a studio.
Maybe I'll even get a wheelchair and a computer all to myself...
Tim:
I came across this site, and wanted to encourage your determination not to be defeated by your disability.
My wife and I rolled over in a vehicle a few weeks ago. We were going very slowly, and did not sustain any serious injuries. I know that the outcome could have been very different.
May the Lord bless and keep you and your family.
Bill Rushby (in the U.S.)