Unlike walking, doing those things in a power chair or wheelchair can be very stressful and it certainly is very tiring. You cannot quickly sidestep when the pedestrian in front of you suddenly stops in his/her tracks to look at a shop window. A wheel chair or power chair is a heavy piece of equipment and can cause immense damage so you have to be constantly aware of small children making a dash in the opposite direction from mum or dad or small dogs dragging their heels at the end of a long leash. Groups of chance met long time no see friends standing in the middle of a pavement is something you just walk around when you are on foot. In a wheelchair or power-chair it requires a tad more active planning.
I am mobility impaired and rely on a power chair to take part in normal everyday activities such as visiting friends, going shopping or taking the grandchildren to the park. I do not feel that being disabled necessarily makes me worthy of more or less consideration than any other individual going about their daily business. Essentially I view my impairment as part of who I am; just like the colour of my eyes and hair, my height, weight and the fact that my voice couldn’t carry a tune out of a burning building even if you put it in a bucket.
I am not too proud to ask for help, if and when I need it
and though it does grate when total strangers suddenly offer their help, I
accept that it is done from a caring impulse and thank them kindly. I have
noticed that since I have been reliant on the chair for getting about that I
tend to get called luv, darling and sweetheart rather more often than before;
much in the way we tend to talk to children or doddering old fools really. I
suppose I notice it more as I haven’t always been mobility impaired. But again,
I realise that it is done with the best of intentions and I accept it is as
such.
All these things and others I haven’t mentioned are part and
parcel of taking an active part in community life. I accept that they will cost
me somewhat more effort than the average participant because of my personal
circumstances. I don’t mind, in fact I am delighted when small children stare
at me in my chair. I am more than happy to smile at them, wave and even stop
and talk to them about the chair and why I am in it. I don’t mind the funny
one-liners, “give’s a lift luv”, “it’s alright for some” “room for a littl’n?”.
Over time I have garnered a list of one-liners I can give in response.
I was rather taken aback when some lout decided to just cut
in and walked right in front of my forward proceeding wheelchair. Not so much
at the fact that I had to brake rather quickly ... you get used to that in a
wheelchair ... but more at the level of abuse he decided to hurl at me, despite the
fact that both the wheelchair and I had come to a stop at least three feet from
him. Oh, and in case you are reading this … No, I don’t know who my father is
but I wasn’t born a puppy so a bastard I may be but a bitch I am not: and for
your information, there are certain adult activities I most certainly would not
engage in on a public thoroughfare.
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