In thinking of something to write today, I remembered the old writer’s adage, “write what you know”; and then I made up another one, “write what you’ve already written.” The resulting blog entry (this one) is a combination of the two sayings. The first saying is pretty self-explanatory, but the second should not be taken completely literally, because no one wants to read a repeat. What I had in mind was an elaboration on a subject already introduced before in this blog.
You see, back around January, I wrote the article “A Reply to Vicarious Pleasure-Seekers”, about my lack of any desire to attach jet engines to my wheelchair and have at it. In that article, I mentioned that this is a frequent suggestion from friends (it is worth noting that just the other day I received the suggestion again) and is only one of the interesting experiences I have had in connection with being in a wheelchair. So today I asked myself, “Why not write about some more such experiences?” And this I shall now do.
If I had a dime for every time I have been asked this certain question, I’d never have to work. That question is, “Can you pop a wheelie in that (meaning my chair)?” Now, if you are uninformed, to “pop a wheelie” simply means to apply pressure to my larger back wheels in such a way that the front of my chair lifts up into the air, not unlike a bucking bronco. In my personal opinion, the “wheelie” is just about the most boring, most uneventful, and, quite frankly, dullest maneuver one can do in a wheelchair. I never do it for fun (that would be dorky), and I only do one when it comes in quite handy for getting over curbs and other speed bumps. However, my friends and, most often, children seem to think it is worth paying good money to see. So if they ask, I oblige and show them that I can indeed “pop a wheelie”. Oh, and if you worry that a wheelie done incorrectly will surely tip the chair over backwards, you are correct; but roughly twenty years of experience in handling a wheelchair is enough to ensure that this will probably not happen very often, if at all.
I have also been challenged to a race. You see, people like to see just how fast I can go in my chair, and sometimes they want to race me on foot. This does not happen all that often, but it’s a good workout when it does. Then there are those people who like to push me in my chair as fast as they can possibly do so while at a dead run. This has happened with ever-lessening frequency as I have gotten older, but it used to happen occasionally, at the hands of both adults and children, and unexpectedly just as often as otherwise. It makes the occupant of the chair not a little wary of the pusher’s steering skills.
Of course, there are the spills. These can happen in a variety of ways. I could fall off a steep curb. I could tip over backwards. I have also tipped over sideways, which is not common. Tipping over in a forward direction is actually the most common of all, and can be effected by hitting a bump, getting a front wheel caught in a very uneven patch of ground, or putting my weight too far toward the foot rest. I don’t mind taking spills – I’ve never been seriously hurt in one and I have no problem righting my vehicle and getting back into it. But the fact remains that spills are embarrassing. If it happens when someone is pushing me, it is embarrassing to them as well, and much time is spent in asking forgiveness or if I’m all right, when it’s all perfectly fine and to expected every once in a while. If the spill happens at my own hands, my chief desire is for it to be in as uncrowded a place as possible, lest I draw unwanted attention to myself. Actually, if you think about it, spills are kind of funny – but no one laughs when a person falls out of his wheelchair (except perhaps my sister). It’s politically incorrect. But I guarantee you I would laugh if I saw myself fall out of my chair.
Stores and other public places are always interesting, especially if there’s little room for my chair, which makes my person wider than it would otherwise be. Thus I often have to make sure I’m not in the way – and in crowded places this can be quite annoying. I have actually ridden an escalator in my chair, and getting up stairs is an interesting experience. I have approached a staircase in one of two ways. The first is to get out, climb the stairs myself, and have someone with me pull the unoccupied chair up separately. The second is to have anywhere from one to four persons literally hoist and carry me and my chair up or down the stairs. This latter method is actually fairly risky, but I have never had a carrier drop (literally) his end of the bargain, and nor have I ever fallen down a staircase.
For as long as I can remember, there have been stares. And this is to be expected, since a person in a wheelchair is different from the general population; you don’t see someone like me every day. Of course, most of the people doing the staring are children, which is perfectly understandable. I often hear them ask their mom (sometimes even as they point) “What’s wrong with that guy?” A few kids have even been brave enough to ask me directly what is wrong with me. The most common way they ask it is, “Did you break your leg?” As for older people staring at me, that is not nearly as common as with children, but when it happens it can be a little disturbing.* It may also surprise you, as it does me, that I have hardly ever been seriously made fun of (besides, of course, the jokes that the joker and I both find funny) for my disability, even when I was a kid.
I have been unable to walk since birth, so my disability feels very normal to me. It does not make me bitter or sad, though a little self-consciousness is always normal. I feel most comfortable when my friends and others treat me as “just one of the guys”; I don’t seek sympathy or pity or special treatment. Whenever I need help, I will usually ask, but more often than not I will try to find a way to do whatever it is myself.
However, since I don’t focus all that heavily on what makes me different, I don’t talk or write about it much, which may be unfortunate since I know some people are probably curious (but may not be comfortable enough to talk about it with me). I hope you find this article not only entertaining but a little informative as well.
*Author’s Note: Nowadays older people (particularly females) stare at me quite often, but that is a totally unrelated matter from the one discussed here.
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