This post is on attitudes toward those in wheelchairs. I was actually amazed at people's reactions. I have found out though they were pretty standard. If someone spoke to me, 80% used a louder slower voice as if I were also deaf and dumb. Even those I knew talked slower and louder. I know my wheelchair height puts me 2 feet lower than I used to be but I don't think they were talking louder to carry their voice down to me.
I also couldn't believe how many people didn't respect the wheelchair I was in. Many hung on or leaned on the wheelchair as if to prop themselves up. Here I was with both feet elevated, a cast on the right leg, a brace on the left leg, and a cast on the left hand.....and they were leaning on the wheelchair as if it were a railing to hold them up. Many many times I didn't have the brake on and their leaning on the wheelchair pushed me away from the entire conversation and in one case pushed me backwards into a wall. Only one person apologized TO ME for doing it (the other 3 apologized to my husband). No one offered to move the chair back to its original position.
I had a lady after one of my lectures offer to take me to my next lecture which I gladly accepted as the next place was up a large incline then down 2 halls....I wasn't looking forward to that incline ramp. While I was finishing up speaking to all who had stopped to ask me questions after that lecure, she held onto the back of the wheelchair and actually started rolling me back and forth like I was a baby in a stroller. I had to ask her to stop.
I can't even begin to tell you how many people wouldn't even speak to me but only to my husband or one of the people who kindly volunteered to push me. They acted like I didn't exist and didn't have a mouth in which to speak.....shhh all who know just how big a mouth I have :)
I had one person actually pat me on the top of the head. That actually was about the most demeaning and patronizing thing I had done to me. I looked at them and said....thank you kind man but I am not a child and you are mussing my hair.
Having conversations with others who did treat me like I had a brain was actually hard. I am only 5'1" and am used to being the shortest around. Being in a wheelchair make me on the level of a child. Looking up to those taller and trying to carry on a conversation was horrible for my neck but since I try to find the good things....I did get a birds eye view of a lot of crotches!
My experiences are teaching me that the problem is society's perception of what a wheelchair signifies. We use phrases like 'wheelchair-bound' and 'confined to a wheelchair' that says that rather than the chair being something that enables and enhances my life, it is a totally negative experience. I love being able to be mobile.
I am too active a person to be stuck at home in bed. I have a mobility impairment currently which hopefully won't last any longer than the 6 months I was told. People need to see not a person who is handicapped but someone who has a handicap. There is a world of difference in that simple perception.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Wheelchair Life - Part 3
Today's thoughts are all on your backside alias rear, aka gluts, aka the buttocks. I have no idea how people stay in a wheelchair day in and day out without the rears hurting big time. OMG I thought I had a big and padded rear. Obviously not for a wheelchair. First the wheelchair bottom is a sling of vinyl. It is not straight across. It does not give. You will find bones you didn't remember you had there. And they will hurt. I have tried a pillow...first one was duck feathers (soft as a pillow for your head but did nothing for the rear). Next one I tried was a thermopedic aka memory foam. Yeah...it remembered how big my butt was but did nothing for cushioning. Someone suggested getting a gel pad from the pharmacy so off I sent my son to get me one. Cushier but no stability although it can be heated for warmth (like I need that with my hot flashes) or frozen. Now the freezing I was interested in so I tried it. No relief but I will say I had a cold ass. I try to transfer to a regular chair when possible but at the main office I end up doing the splits trying to sit with one leg under the desk and the other parallel to the desk, then I reach around my body to get to the keyboard. I can only tolerate that twisting for an hour at a time. The other 2 offices I can stay in my wheelchair and fit both elevated legs under the desk but then my rear is stuck in the chair and once again I find bones I didn't think I had.
I have tried everything: moving, not moving, getting out of my wheelchair and sitting on “normal people” furniture such as sofas, armchairs, passenger seats in cars and dining chairs. It isn’t helping, all the transferring and getting used to any new seating just made it worse. My next thought was maybe I just needed a massage so I innocently asked my husband to massage my rear. The look on his face was priceless.
So I did what any frustrated person would do: I googled wheelchairs and hurting rears. I found the answer: I have what is called FDD aka "Franklin Delano Derriere." Supposedly FDR had very little muscle the bones in his lower pelvis and in his days, he sat in a wooden wheelchair with no cushion at all. Supposedly this article states that I am developing pain in my butt muscles because they are getting smaller and my ishial tuberosities are pressing harder on the thinning tissue underneath. This rationale would mean then that the longer I am in the wheelchair, the smaller my butt will be. Ok sounds good. So the final diagnosis: I am just a pain in the ass...something I am sure my husband will attest to.
I challenge you all to sit in the same place without moving for hours....you will become a PITA too.
I have tried everything: moving, not moving, getting out of my wheelchair and sitting on “normal people” furniture such as sofas, armchairs, passenger seats in cars and dining chairs. It isn’t helping, all the transferring and getting used to any new seating just made it worse. My next thought was maybe I just needed a massage so I innocently asked my husband to massage my rear. The look on his face was priceless.
So I did what any frustrated person would do: I googled wheelchairs and hurting rears. I found the answer: I have what is called FDD aka "Franklin Delano Derriere." Supposedly FDR had very little muscle the bones in his lower pelvis and in his days, he sat in a wooden wheelchair with no cushion at all. Supposedly this article states that I am developing pain in my butt muscles because they are getting smaller and my ishial tuberosities are pressing harder on the thinning tissue underneath. This rationale would mean then that the longer I am in the wheelchair, the smaller my butt will be. Ok sounds good. So the final diagnosis: I am just a pain in the ass...something I am sure my husband will attest to.
I challenge you all to sit in the same place without moving for hours....you will become a PITA too.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Wheelchair Life - Part 2
This post is devoted entirely to trying to use the bathroom in a wheelchair. Now in supposedly public bathrooms, they have those nice big handicapped bathrooms, right? WRONG....... First you have to find them. Signs showing where they are were mounted at eye level for standing adults. When you are in a wheelchair your line of vision is several feet lower. I had never noticed that before and I found it a pain when in the chair. And not all bathrooms are considered handicapped accessible.
Next.....getting into said bathroom. Negotiating the doors....which if you are lucky push in. But then you encounter this ridge at the doorway. Now you have to get yourself over that ridge with the door shutting onto your feet. Can we say ouch?
Ok, you finally get yourself over the ridge and are now in the bathroom. Off to find the handicapped stall. Ever notice how bathrooms don't just go straight in but instead you go through a series of turns to get to the stall area? Yeah - easy to do with feet but hard to do in a wheelchair. So you finally make it to the stall area. Ok now you look for the handicapp stall. Of course it isn't up front nice and close but it's the last one at the end of the whole bathroom.
You finally reach the handicap stall. Then you encounter another problem - the door opens out. Now if you are in a wheelchair how the haydees do you open the door? You are in front of the door and you can't swing it to you as you are in the way. Just learning how to open the danged door took 30 minutes.
Now the door is open and I head into the stall. To a non-handicap person that stall is huge. To one in a wheelchair it is impossible to get the wheelchair into the bathroom along with you and close the door behind you. I swear you have to be a pretzel to accomplish the ways they make you twist to do things. Not easy to do. I found most bathroom doors won't close with the chair in front of the toilet but there isn't enough room to negotiate any other direction. So now I am on display. Thank goodness it's the last stall. Maybe there is a reason they put them at the end after all.
Ok, you have now transferred your rear to the toilet seat. You can't reach the toilet seat covers - they are placed way too high to reach. You can't reach those nice handicapped railings - they are too far from the toilet and the wheelchair is in the way. I made the mistake of unlocking the brakes and pushing the wheelchair back once. Last time I made that mistake. I couldn't get it back and hopping back to it didn't feel good.
Now we are going about our business and we need toilet paper. Problem......huge problem! You are sitting on an elevated seat. The toilet paper holder is huge and points downward. To reach underneath and capture the paper means you fall off the toilet seat. I learned to get it while in the chair and hope I had enough for what I needed cuz that was all I was going to get.
Next you need to get out of said stall. Remember that pretzel twist? Yeah ya gotta do it again only this time you are going out backward. Going forward is hard enough but backward is ....yeah....no words for it that are appropiate here.
Ok....out of the stall and now it's time to wash your hands. You look around. There are no sinks low enough to wash your hands or allow the elevated legs on a wheelchair to go underneath. So you try the pretzel again....nope. You can't even activate the motion sensor. Your fingertips don't even reach in that far. I learned to invest in Lysol wipes. They are my friend. Learn to carry a mirror to see yourself or to make repairs to either your hair or makeup. Bathroom mirrors are not your friend. You will be lucky to see anything but the ceiling in them.
Now you have to get out. Do you think one person in that bathroom would help? Nope - never had that happen......not even once. I felt contagious. Remember now that door opens in. I would usually wait for someone to come in because opening it and going out never worked well on my own.
Home bathrooms. Yeah the wheelchair doesn't even come close to entering that. So I hop in on the leg in the knee brace using the walls to bounce my shoulders off of so I don't fall. Washing hands there is easier if you call standing on one leg balancing easy. Again - Lysol to the rescue.
Lesson learned: carry Lysol wipes and scope out where the bathrooms are located and how far away they are so you can determine how long it will take you to get there and get in before you pee your pants. In the meantime, invest in depends for those times when you just can't get there in time. And if you take a water pill allow 4 hours prior to leaving the bathroom area. By the way, my first bathroom trip outside my hotel room took me an hour between getting in the door and getting out the door let alone the time it took me to find the bathroom.
Next - people's reactions to you.
Next.....getting into said bathroom. Negotiating the doors....which if you are lucky push in. But then you encounter this ridge at the doorway. Now you have to get yourself over that ridge with the door shutting onto your feet. Can we say ouch?
Ok, you finally get yourself over the ridge and are now in the bathroom. Off to find the handicapped stall. Ever notice how bathrooms don't just go straight in but instead you go through a series of turns to get to the stall area? Yeah - easy to do with feet but hard to do in a wheelchair. So you finally make it to the stall area. Ok now you look for the handicapp stall. Of course it isn't up front nice and close but it's the last one at the end of the whole bathroom.
You finally reach the handicap stall. Then you encounter another problem - the door opens out. Now if you are in a wheelchair how the haydees do you open the door? You are in front of the door and you can't swing it to you as you are in the way. Just learning how to open the danged door took 30 minutes.
Now the door is open and I head into the stall. To a non-handicap person that stall is huge. To one in a wheelchair it is impossible to get the wheelchair into the bathroom along with you and close the door behind you. I swear you have to be a pretzel to accomplish the ways they make you twist to do things. Not easy to do. I found most bathroom doors won't close with the chair in front of the toilet but there isn't enough room to negotiate any other direction. So now I am on display. Thank goodness it's the last stall. Maybe there is a reason they put them at the end after all.
Ok, you have now transferred your rear to the toilet seat. You can't reach the toilet seat covers - they are placed way too high to reach. You can't reach those nice handicapped railings - they are too far from the toilet and the wheelchair is in the way. I made the mistake of unlocking the brakes and pushing the wheelchair back once. Last time I made that mistake. I couldn't get it back and hopping back to it didn't feel good.
Now we are going about our business and we need toilet paper. Problem......huge problem! You are sitting on an elevated seat. The toilet paper holder is huge and points downward. To reach underneath and capture the paper means you fall off the toilet seat. I learned to get it while in the chair and hope I had enough for what I needed cuz that was all I was going to get.
Next you need to get out of said stall. Remember that pretzel twist? Yeah ya gotta do it again only this time you are going out backward. Going forward is hard enough but backward is ....yeah....no words for it that are appropiate here.
Ok....out of the stall and now it's time to wash your hands. You look around. There are no sinks low enough to wash your hands or allow the elevated legs on a wheelchair to go underneath. So you try the pretzel again....nope. You can't even activate the motion sensor. Your fingertips don't even reach in that far. I learned to invest in Lysol wipes. They are my friend. Learn to carry a mirror to see yourself or to make repairs to either your hair or makeup. Bathroom mirrors are not your friend. You will be lucky to see anything but the ceiling in them.
Now you have to get out. Do you think one person in that bathroom would help? Nope - never had that happen......not even once. I felt contagious. Remember now that door opens in. I would usually wait for someone to come in because opening it and going out never worked well on my own.
Home bathrooms. Yeah the wheelchair doesn't even come close to entering that. So I hop in on the leg in the knee brace using the walls to bounce my shoulders off of so I don't fall. Washing hands there is easier if you call standing on one leg balancing easy. Again - Lysol to the rescue.
Lesson learned: carry Lysol wipes and scope out where the bathrooms are located and how far away they are so you can determine how long it will take you to get there and get in before you pee your pants. In the meantime, invest in depends for those times when you just can't get there in time. And if you take a water pill allow 4 hours prior to leaving the bathroom area. By the way, my first bathroom trip outside my hotel room took me an hour between getting in the door and getting out the door let alone the time it took me to find the bathroom.
Next - people's reactions to you.
Life in a wheelchair - part 1.
I actually don't know how many parts this will be....just that I know there is more than one post can take.
Most of you know what happened and why I am in a wheelchair from my last post. I have a cast to the knee on my right leg, a brace on my left knee from my thigh to the calf, and a brace on my left hand from my fingertips to my elbow so I won't move the thumb or wrist. I am supposed to be non-weight bearing (meaning no weight at all actually on either leg) but that is impossible. I stand on the left leg as it is the least messed up.
Every now and then in life, you get a chance to do something that changes the way you look at the world. It's one of those yep moments that you may not realize right away but it is something that one day you will realize just how profoundly you have been affected. Every single day in this chair has brought a new learning experience and adaption. My view of the world around me is forever changed (I thought I was short before but in the chair, I am a midget).
Now on to life in a wheelchair. In nursing school we had to spend a full day in one to get an idea of what it was like. But you knew it was going to end in 24 hours. This is so totally different. I have a healthy respect now for those who will spend the rest of their lives in one. I know that I will one day get out of it.
The mobility issue is just one small part. Both my legs are elevated in the wheelchair and with the brace on one hand, all I have to get around with is my right hand. I swear learning how to keep the wheelchair going straight was a day's lesson in itself and my right arm is now very toned.
The dependency issue is another small part. After almost 2 weeks now, I am still encountering things and issues every day. I do not have a dependent personality. I hated when I was in chemo and had radiation. I have too much a giver personality and not a taker. It's hard for me to learn to ask for help.
Which brings me to the frustration issue. To me this is one of the biggest hurdles I have had to overcome. It was brought forth even more when we got hit with a monster storm that took out our power for 4 days. We live in an unincorporated area meaning we are on well and septic. When we have no power, we also have no running water - no showers - no flushing the toilet. Now we have a generator but it needed refilled every 2 hours. Before my accident, I would be taking one of the shifts keeping the house protected and the generator running. In the wheelchair, that was impossible. I couldn't even reach down to start the thing let alone get the gas can, lift it, and put gas in the tank. But when that generator failed, son took me to Home Depot where I waited in line for almost 5 hours waiting for a truck to arrive with new generators. That I did fine by myself so son could run some errands. That is until I had to go to the bathroom.
To be continued......
Most of you know what happened and why I am in a wheelchair from my last post. I have a cast to the knee on my right leg, a brace on my left knee from my thigh to the calf, and a brace on my left hand from my fingertips to my elbow so I won't move the thumb or wrist. I am supposed to be non-weight bearing (meaning no weight at all actually on either leg) but that is impossible. I stand on the left leg as it is the least messed up.
Every now and then in life, you get a chance to do something that changes the way you look at the world. It's one of those yep moments that you may not realize right away but it is something that one day you will realize just how profoundly you have been affected. Every single day in this chair has brought a new learning experience and adaption. My view of the world around me is forever changed (I thought I was short before but in the chair, I am a midget).
Now on to life in a wheelchair. In nursing school we had to spend a full day in one to get an idea of what it was like. But you knew it was going to end in 24 hours. This is so totally different. I have a healthy respect now for those who will spend the rest of their lives in one. I know that I will one day get out of it.
The mobility issue is just one small part. Both my legs are elevated in the wheelchair and with the brace on one hand, all I have to get around with is my right hand. I swear learning how to keep the wheelchair going straight was a day's lesson in itself and my right arm is now very toned.
The dependency issue is another small part. After almost 2 weeks now, I am still encountering things and issues every day. I do not have a dependent personality. I hated when I was in chemo and had radiation. I have too much a giver personality and not a taker. It's hard for me to learn to ask for help.
Which brings me to the frustration issue. To me this is one of the biggest hurdles I have had to overcome. It was brought forth even more when we got hit with a monster storm that took out our power for 4 days. We live in an unincorporated area meaning we are on well and septic. When we have no power, we also have no running water - no showers - no flushing the toilet. Now we have a generator but it needed refilled every 2 hours. Before my accident, I would be taking one of the shifts keeping the house protected and the generator running. In the wheelchair, that was impossible. I couldn't even reach down to start the thing let alone get the gas can, lift it, and put gas in the tank. But when that generator failed, son took me to Home Depot where I waited in line for almost 5 hours waiting for a truck to arrive with new generators. That I did fine by myself so son could run some errands. That is until I had to go to the bathroom.
To be continued......
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Waving hi from Philly
Waving hi from Philly. Having a blast, kinda, but typical me. Have seen all the sites plus one I wasn't expecting. Seems my medication I take for my eardrum doesn't match well with the Philly heat and all the walking so had to make my 1st er visit when I passed out at Constitution Place (that was Sunday). Few tests later confirmed I had a severe electrolyte imbalance so a few hours later of IV's I was fine and discharged. Gatorade and pedialyte is now a part of my daily diet. 2nd er visit came last night when we were in front of Independence House doing the tour. The sidewalks in Philly are crap and my right foot went sideways off a 12 inch high missing bricked area and I went down face first. Chipped a bone in my left palm (bottom of thumb area), chipped a bone under my left knee, and broke a few bones in my right ankle. Luckily we were done sightseeing and all we have is the conference and am spending that in a wheelchair. It's been interesting to say the least. Hubs says he loves the analogy between where I passed out (Constitution Place) and where I fell (Independence House). I told him.....well you can all guess what I told him! Seminar starts tomorrow am...twas in meetings most of the afternoon and going to dinner in Chinatown tonight. Be good....or at least stay away from the er!
Friday, August 10, 2007
TTFN
For almost 2 weeks now I have been stressing. Why? Because hubs and I are getting ready to take 10 days off work (5 for us and 5 for a seminar). Now most people get paid while taking vacations, but we don't. Instead not only do we have the actual trip costs of airfare, hotel, restaurants, etc, we have to pay people to cover our rears so we can go away.
I started a checklist 2 months ago (I am anal about my lists but they are better than post it notes which I used to do). Hubs and I haven't been away together without kids and without attending a seminar in 13 years. We stayed home throughout those years to protect the house. Those of you who have kids and teens know what I am talking about. Now we only have son left at home and we know there won't be a party here while we are gone because he won't want to clean up after. He would much rather go to someone else's house and get it dirty than clean here. This is good. I remember a seminar hubs and I went to 4 years ago. We thought we had protected the house. We had neighbors watching the house for car activity. We had people we knew who drove by the house to make sure there wasn't activity. Well, we came home to find our kitchen chairs broken, 4 Jewel shopping carts in our backyard, and our son's jaw broken. There was never a car here. They had people park a half mile away at the Jewel (the reason why there were shopping carts in our backyard) and walk the half mile to our house so there wouldn't be a car here. We still have never heard the story about the jaw cept that son got in between 2 people who were fighting. All I know is that trip cost me over $8000.00 for the oral surgery, 1 semester college tuition when son couldn't go back since his mouth was wired shut for 6 weeks, 5 days pay to another doctor to cover our offices, and 1 kitchen table and chairs. But we are hoping that since he's older he will behave himself this time. Besides, he doesn't have his sister to clean up after him and his parties. He would have to pay someone and that isn't going to happen.
But going away? I swear I am going to sleep a week after I get there. It never ceases to amaze me what goes into getting ready to take a trip away. We had to get new luggage (airlines are not kind to luggage and ours was 18 years old and the airline killed them 4 years ago). I also had to find things to wear. My wardrobe consists of scrubs. I have enough other clothing for maybe 5 days but not 10. So looks like I will be washing things there because I refused to buy anything new since I keep losing weight. The details of going away get to me. My list started out 2 pages long. I am now down to a half page and that is mainly things to pack. I had to anticipate everything and anything that could happen the week I was out of touch.
Did I mention my husband isn't allowing me to touch my computer until the conference begins on Thursday? So now I will be in work withdrawal and computer withdrawal. Yep just him and me. Should be interesting. After 28 years of marriage and working 12-14 hour days together day in and day out, he made rules for the trip. No talk of the office. No talk of the patients. No talk of the kids. No talk of the wedding. Just the 2 of us. Should be interesting. Got my cans of lysol packed though! And ready for the hotel sex after I get the sleep.
So behave everyone! See you in a week or so.
I started a checklist 2 months ago (I am anal about my lists but they are better than post it notes which I used to do). Hubs and I haven't been away together without kids and without attending a seminar in 13 years. We stayed home throughout those years to protect the house. Those of you who have kids and teens know what I am talking about. Now we only have son left at home and we know there won't be a party here while we are gone because he won't want to clean up after. He would much rather go to someone else's house and get it dirty than clean here. This is good. I remember a seminar hubs and I went to 4 years ago. We thought we had protected the house. We had neighbors watching the house for car activity. We had people we knew who drove by the house to make sure there wasn't activity. Well, we came home to find our kitchen chairs broken, 4 Jewel shopping carts in our backyard, and our son's jaw broken. There was never a car here. They had people park a half mile away at the Jewel (the reason why there were shopping carts in our backyard) and walk the half mile to our house so there wouldn't be a car here. We still have never heard the story about the jaw cept that son got in between 2 people who were fighting. All I know is that trip cost me over $8000.00 for the oral surgery, 1 semester college tuition when son couldn't go back since his mouth was wired shut for 6 weeks, 5 days pay to another doctor to cover our offices, and 1 kitchen table and chairs. But we are hoping that since he's older he will behave himself this time. Besides, he doesn't have his sister to clean up after him and his parties. He would have to pay someone and that isn't going to happen.
But going away? I swear I am going to sleep a week after I get there. It never ceases to amaze me what goes into getting ready to take a trip away. We had to get new luggage (airlines are not kind to luggage and ours was 18 years old and the airline killed them 4 years ago). I also had to find things to wear. My wardrobe consists of scrubs. I have enough other clothing for maybe 5 days but not 10. So looks like I will be washing things there because I refused to buy anything new since I keep losing weight. The details of going away get to me. My list started out 2 pages long. I am now down to a half page and that is mainly things to pack. I had to anticipate everything and anything that could happen the week I was out of touch.
Did I mention my husband isn't allowing me to touch my computer until the conference begins on Thursday? So now I will be in work withdrawal and computer withdrawal. Yep just him and me. Should be interesting. After 28 years of marriage and working 12-14 hour days together day in and day out, he made rules for the trip. No talk of the office. No talk of the patients. No talk of the kids. No talk of the wedding. Just the 2 of us. Should be interesting. Got my cans of lysol packed though! And ready for the hotel sex after I get the sleep.
So behave everyone! See you in a week or so.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)