Try it: get one and lock yourself in it by putting a chain with lock arround your waist so you are obliged to use the chair everywhere. Do it for at least a month, and also remember to excercise daily to maintain your body anyway, and eat nothing so you don’t get fat. It would still be only a month of your life, how hard can it be?

Sitting in a chair isn’t that bad, it’s a solution for a problem. Not being able to participate because nothing in the world is created with accessibility in mind, that’s what destroys your spirit and confidence. Discrimination because you’re sitting down, people talking to you like a child or simply ignoring you, not being able to have a piss because they stocked the wheelchair accessible stall with cleaning products, being ignored sexually, being resented because you need more room then other people, having to prove you don’t have a mental disability each and every time again, ect. But yes, it is very possible to still be happy in your life, as long as people are willing to let you be happy.

There are bad things about it, and there are good things about it.

Bad things:

Not every public space is accessible to wheelchairs/wheelchair users, whether they are manual wheelchair users or motorized wheelchair users.

Sometimes wheelchairs break. This is incredibly inconvenient - especially since repair appointments may take days or weeks.

If your cushion isn’t properly fitted/inflated/otherwise made, you may develop a pressure sore that needs medical treatment.

Using a wheelchair sometimes causes people to stare/ask invasive questions without first being invited. You need to develop a thick skin.

Good things:

Wheelchairs afford mobility; mobility affords freedom. Freedom affords you the ability to go (within your economic and other abilities) where you want, when you want, to do what you want, with whom you want.

That, I believe, is worth all the negative stuff. By far.

Difficult? Definitely!

Bad? Not at all!

As far as my experience is concerned, I always felt a kind of embarrassment sitting on a wheelchair and getting out in the public. Only because I was afraid to be the reason for people’s prying eyes.

And then, one day, it became really necessary to sit on a wheelchair. As I didn’t have any other option, I had to give up. I went out, while my family members kept strolling me.

On the way, I saw a toddler in a stroller. Now, look at these pictures:

I am not the girl in the picture. :P

Now, what’s the similarity between these two images? Both of them can’t walk. And the difference? Just that age factor - which might not even matter.

Then why do people sympathize with the former picture and drool over the latter? That day, I began thinking that maybe, I was only meant to sit back, relax, while I’ll reach the place wherever I’d want to go. Without any difficulties.

So yeah, if taken positively, being on wheelchair isn’t a bad thing at all.

Yes, sitting for a long time is bad for you. Think of gravity being applied to a small surface like the ocean pressure when an object goes too deep. If a person weighed 120 lbs, 54 kg, then let’s say half of that weight 60 lbs, 27 kg, is being applied to an area only of your butt. Because of the pressure, a lack of blood flow of oxgygen and nutrients is unable to circulate through the part of the body under gravity (your butt) causing skin to break down and also leading to nerve damage.

In healthcare, we are mandated to reposition immobile patients every two hours to prevent bed sores.

Graphic image, bed sores:

As mentioned by Kimberly before, it's definitely a mixed bag.

Upsides:

• You get privileges. When they're not taken, handicap parking spaces are quite a perk. And in many theme parks there exist expedited lines for the disabled (which are generally shorter than regular lines). Some parks will even let you jump to the front no questions asked.
• People will treat you like a king. This one can be both an upside and a downside. For the upside part, you get the chance to experience some of the warmest, fuzziest parts of human nature. This warmness is manifest in random strangers holding doors for you, extracting material from your backpack for you and picking up stuff that you dropped but just can't pick up on your own. Your fellow students will always know who you are and many will be interested in learning more about you. This makes finding friends pretty easy.
• You don't get fatigued traveling long distances. As that Special Kid on a Motorized Wheelchair, I'm never afraid to travel from one end of campus to another (unless it's snowing, see below). With a quick flick of my joystick I zoom through streets, roads and sidewalks without breaking a sweat. People often brag about how great their bikes are. Pssh. Bunch of plebs.
• If you sit in the front row of a lecture hall, your professors will know who you are. It's natural. You sit on wheelchair, you stand out like a brutally injured thumb on an otherwise perfectly healthy right hand. Among the faces that sit in the front row, who do you think your lecturer is going to make an effort to talk to? Obviously you, with your sweet ride and your masculine cripple charm. Boom. Instant networking.
• People will care about your health, even if you don't. If you feel sick and show signs of discomfort, people will notice and try to help you out. There were times in my life where I tried to hide my symptoms of sickness in order to not get sent home and miss out on class. I usually was taken to the health office anyway.
• You get mad hand eye coordination skills. Seriously. After driving on a motorized wheelchair for eight years, your ability to maneuver through tight spaces shoots through the roof. You become the god of tight turns: the master of rounding corners.

Downsides:

• People will treat you like a king. Sometimes, as an introvert, you just want to be alone. You just want to sit inconspicuously in the corner and read a textbook or something while occasionally staring silently at the rest of the world like the cool western-flick loner you always wanted to be. The problem is as a Special Kid on a Motorized Wheelchair, not drawing attention can be quite difficult. Driving across a room, there's always going to be that one random blond kid on a computer who's going to look up and stare at you as you majestically go from point A to point B. As someone who's not much of an exhibitionist, this can be quite annoying.
• Sometime's you will not be respected as an intelligent human being. You know that way people act towards little kids? That's called condescension. Many, many people will try to condescend upon you: to the point where you begin to wonder whether you're really an adult like they are or just some random five year old kid pretending to be in the same classes.
• It's sometimes hard to tell who your real friends are. When you sit on a wheelchair, everyone tries to talk to you or help you out: after all, you're a novelty human being. It's difficult to filter through those masses of kind, interested hearts to find the people who are really interested in your companionship. It's difficult to find people who truly enjoy sharing experiences with you.
• If life were a dating sim, sitting on a wheelchair is playing on hard mode. As a stud on two feet, when a girl gives you loads of attention and tries to do you favors it's usually a sign that she's interested. As a stud on a wheelchair, when a girl gives you the same amount of attention it's impossible to tell whether she's interested in you or interested in the concept of showing kindness to a person a wheelchair. I've been in situations where I thought a person was in the first category when really they were in the second. I've also been in the opposite situation. As a guy who sucks at reading intentions, I'm really bad at telling which situation applies and usually just assume the latter to avoid awkward confrontation.
• Unaccessible buildings are annoying. An individual on a wheelchair has to accept that not all building are wheelchair friendly: even the ones that claim they are on the internet. It's extremely frustrating when you spend many many minutes of precious time looking for a perfect restaurant to dine in with your friends, only to realize when you get there that the information posted on Yelp is inaccurate and that the restaurant, in fact, has a giant, ugly wheelchair-blocking step barricading its otherwise beautiful front entrance.
• You sometimes feel like your wheelchair is a prison blocking you from the freedom to run. As a person who used to be able to use his legs, I still sometimes dream about running across a beautiful grassland all blissful and wild and fabulous and all that. I like to think that my spirit animal is a beautiful gazelle: wild, free, and graceful. My wheelchair sometimes seems like a huge-ass cage blocking my wild spirit from running free on mighty legs.
• You can't play sports. I understand this is not true in a lot of cases: especially where the wheelchair user still has use of his or her arms and hands. In my case however, my arms are almost completely immobile: so wheelchair basketball is pretty much out of the question. In addition, for me a lot of the perceived fun of sports comes from the thrill of running fast for competitive reasons. My wild gazelle spirit really wishes it could run :(
• You can't do a lot of things. Heck, even outside of sports. Like hiking up a rough mountain for example. Or any activity requiring two feet and hind legs to maneuver through tricky spots.
• You might accidentally hurt people. Say you're just cruising along a quiet alley, minding your own business. Suddenly out of nowhere, a random walker appears out of an intersection. Unable to brake in time, you crash into said walker causing a great deal of pain, confusion, and mental trauma. Either that, or you accidentally run over your friend's foot.
• You often have to rely on other people for a lot of things. This is probably the one thing that gets me down in the dumps the most. I hate putting a burden on other people. I am loath to come off as not being able to rely on myself. I sometimes just get really angry at myself when I'm not able to do the things that my friends can do so effortlessly: like walking and running. It's a real punch to the self esteem.

It's bittersweet.

Positives first, as always!

• I can do wheelies. (Do I need to explain?)
• I can run over people "by accident". I'm really sly, aren't I?
• I get to work out my upper body by pushing myself. Probably more than I used to, before I became wheelchair bound.
• I get to cut in line, because I'm in a wheelchair. Who gets to ride roller coasters first? ME! YES BITCHES, ME! I don't have to wait in line, so SUCK IT! (Seriously, I go-kart and ride roller coasters, even though I'm paralyzed).
• Emotionally, I have a lot of people who look up to me, because I'm so happy and positive even though I can't walk, who said it's the end?

The negatives.

• Particularly in India, people take me for granted. They think of me as "poor little Virali, she's on a wheelchair, she's going to be easy". What do I mean by easy? I mean to get in my pants, easy. I've had so many men try and flirt with me. Don't get me wrong, I'm a flirtacious person and I like flirting. After a little bit, they'd start talking about sex and all the dirty things they'd like to do to me. Why? Seriously, why? Do I look easy to you? Am I wearing a sign that says "Come have sex with me, I'm paralyzed and easy"?
• Emotionally, no guy ever wanted me, romantically or to fall in love with me. They thought that dating someone in a wheelchair is hard stuff. Why on earth would someone date a girl or boy who's wheelchair bound? It's honestly not that hard.
• I got used a lot. This is related to my wheelchair, I suppose. Just because I can't walk, people would ignore me when making plans to go dancing or maybe even just go for coffee. The place probably isn't accessible or they think, what would a girl who can't walk do when we go clubbing or dancing? Honestly, I dance better than you, and I'm only moving my upper body.
• Some places in India aren't accessible. Do the politicians give a damn about accessibility for handicaps? No. There is a compartment in the local train for handicaps but there isn't a ramp or any sort for wheelchair bound people to get in, at least none that I know of.
• In India, locals stare at handicaps. Are we a circus act? Is it wrong or taboo to see a gang of us at malls? But then again, there are a lot of nice people too. It goes both ways.
• People also don't think that I'm capable of doing anything, other than being a pretty face, mainly because I'm on a wheelchair. I've achieved more than them, while sitting in one chair for eight years.
• There are some surfaces that are hard to travel on. For instance, loosely packed dirty, snow, and sand. It's really hard for someone to push the wheelchair in the particular surface, let alone me. There are different types of wheelchairs that are available to help with such things.
• Another thing that I initially didn't mention is urinary and bowel issues. Some people with neurological problems are faced with difficulties to use the bathroom because they lack sensation or muscle strength to control such issues. I, myself, use a catheter for my bladder, so I don't have to worry about going to the bathroom in inaccessible places, especially in India. I guess this is a downside of being in a wheelchair, as well as having a neurological problem.

Being wheelchair bound is definitely a challenge and something one has to deal with, it does not mean accepting the condition you're in. If I did that, I wouldn't be here typing this, or I wouldn't have been so positive and happy throughout these eight years. Accepting myself in a wheelchair is considered a failure to me, I view this wheelchair as a challenge for me to get out of it and do good for the people who deserve it.

More than anything, I do believe that living life in a wheelchair is difficult but not impossible. A positive attitude and a smile through tough situations is needed and definitely encouraged. I believe that a handicapped or disabled person is NOT disabled or handicapped. Disabled or handicapped are sociopaths, psychopaths, murders, rapists, and/or people who lack sympathy, empathy, courage, love, sensitivity, and passion.

What does it feel like to be in a wheelchair for me? Easy. It feels easy yet challenging at the same time. I hope, by next year the same time, I would be writing a post on my blog about how I have achieved to get this wheelchair out of my life.

I'd also like to add that people who are in wheelchairs due to neurological problems are more sensitive in terms of sensation and movement and need to be extra careful of their skin on their butttocks. It's prone to skin break, or the skin ripping from too much pressure and moisture that it reveals the muscle or even the bone. Luckily, I have never had to go through that.

Because of neurological problems, people have spasms, or unvoluntairy movements of the muscles which causes a jerk in the particular muscle or group of muscles. These can be quite painful for the patient or someone around them. They vary and can happen at anytime of the day. Without proper calcium or vitamin D, it is possible to break a bone.

Just like I did. I fractured my right femure because of a spasm. I now take anti-spastic medicine to calm them down. I've stopped taking them about three months ago and my spasms aren't that bad now.

Edit - 01/02/14

Psychologically, I wanted to add something here. I have lots of friends who are wheelchair bound, that live in India. Mentally, they are weak. They don't have the courage or the heart to get out of a wheelchair and that really irritates me. I, being a really positive person, also have days where I get upset about being in a wheelchair. It hurts sometimes, mostly because people only see the wheelchair, and not you. The reason it irritates me is because, I can't be a negative person and accept my situation. Many answers here say that we get treated really nicely, that can be good and bad.

I don't mind being a unique person, different from the rest; but sometimes, I'd like to be normal, and I like to do everything a normal person can, and mind you, I do. I do almost everything as normally as you, the "healthy" human being. The only difference is that I take the elevator or the ramp, while you take the stairs. My ability, is astonishing.

Just to give you a few examples, I travel in a rickshaw* all over Mumbai, alone without any assistance. I don't know anyone who is in a wheelchair that does that. It's damn hot in Mumbai, it usually gets above 80 degrees (F) or close to 30C. It usually takes me about 1.5 hours from my home to my therapy place, with traffic. My therapy center is only about 15 minutes away without traffic. I travel alone, pick up vegetables or any other food that is required at home, in the terrible heat. I'm more independent than most wheelchair bound people. I exercise a total of 8 hours a day, 4 at my therapy place and 4 at home, and I meet up with friends and even go out for dinner or drinks, and get time for Quora. I cannot stand it when people give me excuses that they don't have the time to exercise or take care of their health.

Like I mentioned, living life on a wheelchair is not at all impossible, it is challenging, but possible. Sure, maybe your certain illness or neurological problem won't be cured whatsoever, the least you can do is become more independent. You'll learn that at therapy and while practicing it at home.

*

Your wheelchair accessible office, isn't.

Why yes, you told Google and the insurance company that it was; but the door has a lip on it over a half an inch over the ground, and a manual chair can't roll over that and the door is not wide enough for a electric chair that could—most can't do this anyway.

So when I made my appointment with your office, and I told you I had to take the disability transport in my wheelchair, you didn't tell me this.

you also didn't figure out that some point I would have to use the bathroom at your office.

the bathroom at your office doesn't even allow the wheelchair to go through the door; although if it does somehow squeeze through, the door won't close behind me. If by small chance I can get the chair in and close the door, in all likelihood I won't be able to turn the chair around to get out again.

Just to be clear, I can't get out of the chair in your bathroom, if the place actually does have bars next to the toilet to do so, if I can't actually get in the door;-)

Speaking of doors, your exam room doesn't have enough room for my chair to even get in the door.

Should I actually make it into the exam room, your assistant is going to have to remove my chair in order for the doctor to follow me in; because there's not enough room for the both of us. If I have a personal care assistant with me that day, that's three people that need to be in the room. For those of us still counting, your nurse makes four people in the room. At some point, I'm pretty sure the fire code kicks in and starts kicking people out of the room for having too many;-)

Speaking of the fire code, can I get out of your office if there's a fire?

I mean, if I can actually get into your office with the wheelchair, can I get out of your office if there's a fire?

You see, when I booked the appointment, and I told you I was in the wheelchair, your colleagues on the second floor offered to see me as well. Turns out, however, if the elevator shuts down, there's no way down from the second floor. Legally, the elevator has to shut down in that situation; so does that make it legal to burn me alive?

not that it matters, because I'm not getting out of your office anyway.

I know this, because you have another patient who is currently blocking the disability ramp with their car that is the only exit to the building. Now you just told me that they do this all the time; and yet you're not going to call the police on them when I discover I can't get out. You're just going to call upstairs to see if it's one of their patients, if one of your patients doesn't admit to it being their car in the waiting room.

So after about the amount of time it takes for me to be burned alive several times over, the other patient comes out and moves their car. They come out from the front entrance, because as it turns out they didn't need the disability ramp in the first place—not disabled physically.

But hey, if you're willing to change that come next appointment and accidentally on purpose find a way to give that person a reason to need the disabilities ramp; I might find a purpose towards making another of those appointments again that my insurance pays you so much for.

Because everyone's a winner when everyone works together to make things better :-)

Assuming you ever let me in the door;-)

I have been incredibly shocked at how naive and uninformed most people are regarding “so called” disability. So when the question inquired about what impression people have of my physical challenge, I really don't know.

A good example of this is when I was at a doctor’s office today and I wheeled into the exam room. I then maneuvered quite nimbly into a small space in that crowded environment. At the end of the appointment, the nurse said she would wheel me to the check out desk. She didn’t even ask, she just assumed. What transitioned her perspective from seeing me as a very independent, capable wheelchair user to someone who needs 100% assistance to be wheeled to check out?

Another somewhat bizarre experience happened when I was working in management at a Fortune 500 company. I bought 2 expensive business suits from a high end retailer for work. Once I paid for the clothing, the clerk looked at me and said, “it is so nice you people get out.” Now what did she think I was doing by buying pricey business suits?

That is why I answered this question the way I did. People will perceive the reason why I am in a wheelchair by using a stereotype or image that they are familiar with. Since so many people don't actually encounter wheelchair enabled persons very often, I am likely to be perceived based on the small sample that person has seen in real life or on TV/movies.

I know that any wheelchair user reading this response is very familiar with this next scenario. “A wheelchair is coming” is expressed by fellow passengers or other individuals when they see me entering a bus or a door. These particular people can't even process what they are seeing at all. I am not even being considered a human being but rather, an object.

When I was young, I had a wish. I hoped that someday people would be surprised at what I CAN’T do rather than, what I CAN. Unfortunately 52 years have passed and most non disabled persons still assume that we are all the same. In their minds, we can’t work, get married or raise children.

My wish was naive but I am still hopeful that eventually we will be recognized as productive members of society. I strongly believe that we are not disabled but it is the environment that disables us. Changing society’s perspective is the only way we will finally be recognized as individuals instead of medical conditions.

"What's wrong with you?" -- There's something wrong with me? News to me.

"What happened to you?" -- Sorry, if you want my private health history I'll have to charge a consultation fee. If my doctors can do it, so can I.

"You're STILL in that thing?" -- I am?! *looks down* Dammit.

"Aren't you better yet?" -- Aren't you smarter yet?

"I am SO sorry." -- About what? I don't feel sorry.

"OMG I would kill myself if I were in your position." -- Really? That's awful. I can't imagine killing myself over it. Perhaps you could use some therapy?

"Can I pray for you?" -- Can I think for you?

"I saw your leg move!" -- OMG It's a miracle! I'll go tell my doctor right away!

"My father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roomate had that, and he took (insert herb, diet, medication, or other fantasy cure here) now he's running marathons!" -- Goody for him. I'm not him and you're not my doctor.

"I know what you're going through. I broke my leg once/my grandma is in a wheelchair" -- I don't honestly mind this one because a lot of people do learn more perspective than the average person that way.

"You know, if you just lost some weight you probably wouldn't need that wheelchair. Just sayin'. No offense intended." -- You know if you just got some education you might not sound SO stupid when you talk. Just sayin'. No offense intended.

"What would she like?" -- Usually said by servers to whoever I'm with. They will deliberately look at me and then look at them and say this. My husband just says "I dunno. Why don't you ask her?"

"Beats walking, doesn't it?" -- Lose the ability to do it ever again and then get back to me on whether you still feel that way.

*Speaking to me as if I was a child or patting me on the head* -- *does it right back*

"Can you...you know...have sex?" -- Sorry, I'm happily married.

I get two extremes, both of which are incorrect.

One is that I must be paraplegic; it therefore freaks people out if I move my feet and legs, or -heaven forbid- stand up from my chair for any reason. People get quite angry and accuse me of faking, or sarcastically mutter about miracles. Well I never claimed to be paralysed, I use the chair because walking causes me pain, and I'm likely to fall. I avoid standing from my chair in public to prevent stares and rude comments.

The other thing people assume, is that I use my wheelchair because of my weight.

I happen to be overweight, but this has nothing to do with why I'm in the wheelchair. I don't have heart disease, or diabetes, or high blood pressure. My illnesses and disabilities are nothing to do with my size; multiple doctors have confirmed it.

This doesn't stop people giving me dirty looks, or making hurtful remarks. I wish people would not judge others, when they know nothing about them.

What's it like being in a wheelchair? It's a mixed bag.

Seeing someone in a wheelchair often brings out the best in people. People want to be helpful and accommodating. Of course, this is not a universal, and works best if the wheelchair user is nearby in plain view. I have been pumping gas and have had strangers stop me and say that I inspired them. I've been given gifts by strangers.

Tons more people remember me than I remember them. It's like a low level of fame. It also becomes your defining characteristic.

"You know Kimberly?"
"No, I don't think so."
"She's the one in a wheelchair..."
"Oh, yeah!"

Little kids find your wheelchair incredibly interesting. It makes you smile, because kids are just awesome.

There are still places for which the ADA is just something a baby might say. (Some interesting stories there.)

Before I used a wheelchair, I walked with a limp most places. (I was born with spina bifida.) My mother was angry when I began using a wheelchair in high school, because to her it was like I "gave up." Really, I was just happy to be able to go anywhere I wanted and not worry about getting out of breath too quickly, falling, or being utterly exhausted. My plans became the center focus, not my muscles and aching body.

When you're an adult in a wheelchair, with the life of a competitive graduate student and breaking into the work force, you have a different worry when the rough patches come: when your dating prospects are slim to none; when you're unable to find something for a boss while you have the flu, and he sets you up to work elsewhere saying that perhaps you just need a less strenuous job; when you have excellent conversations with classmates you see everyday in class, and they plan some fun event in front of you and never ask you to come along...

You wonder sometimes. You wonder how many opportunities you might have missed out on because some people didn't want to bother. You wonder if people just see you as a bit too much trouble, or an inconvenience, to their ways of doing things. If they see you as someone they admire, but not enough to be on the same par as they are. You wonder if it's instead just awkwardness, and not knowing what to do with someone a bit different that pulls them away. You wonder if it's there at all, because everyone was so nice to you, so you're just overreacting.

And as visible as you might be in some ways, to some people, the truth is that not a lot of people know what it's really like to be you, in that chair, with all the extra things you have to think about and do. Some people probably do resist offering you an opportunity, asking you on a date, including you in their social circle because of the extra baggage you carry.

But I guess that's true of a lot of other people, too.

Thanks for the A2A! I'm cosigning everything that's been said. Here's a few more things.

Online dating as a cripple: People will message me, with the very first question being, "can you have sex?" or "is sex painful/tiring for you?" That is the sort of thing you broach when you're actually at the point of discussing having sex. This is no one's business but the disabled person, the people with whom they're getting freaky, and close confidants. This question is also asked in a non-dating context by strangers. I was actually once asked queuing up at Secretary of State (aka, the DMV for you non-Michiganders), waiting in line to get my license plate tabs. Here's the critical part of this story: most disabled people can have sex. Yes, including people who are paralyzed. We may need cushions, or can't do certain positions, or our erogenous zones have shifted due to spinal cord injury or stroke, but we can have sex if we're so inclined. I have a great sex life. I don't want to brag, but, hey, I'm getting action. I'm blessed to have a few people to pick from right now.

Prospective dates will also say things like, "I'm not afraid of the wheelchair." Um, good? Because it's an inanimate object. And if you really didn't have hangups about the chair, you wouldn't say anything. And, fyi, the chair is a part of me and is part of my life story, so also don't say, "I don't even see the chair," or "I don't even notice your disability." Well, I notice it, and it's a huge part of my life. Respect me, but don't ignore the effects of my disability. My life has been shaped by my disability, my chair saved my life.

People also say, and not always in the dating context, but in any situation: "My cousin/sibling/person-I-went-to high-school-with-but-never-talked-to is disabled, so I understand what you're going through. No. No, you don't. You don't know about chronic pain unless you have it. You don't know about using a wheelchair unless you use one. You don't understand blindness unless you are blind. Shut up.

Last comment on dating. Despite me explaining up front about my pain, fatigue, wheelchair/cane, etc., dates will get offended if I have to cancel, or say we can't go somewhere because it's inaccessible, or that I can't sext right now because I'm in too much pain (I've been known to send a picture I've taken for the person I fooled around with before this one because I don't feel well enough to take off my shirt or panties and pose, and they're acting like their balls will shrivel up and fall off if they don't see my tits). But, really. You're a selfish cock if you take it personally, and I'm over you.

On being able to walk very short distances, but still needing a wheelchair: I can walk from spot to spot in my small 1000 square foot house. There's plenty of spots to rest, a shower chair, and a stool in the kitchen. I can walk into the gas station, pay for gas and cigarettes, and walk back to my car with a cane. But I cannot walk all around my work; the offices and warehouse. I need my chair to shop, to walk around downtown (and it's totally okay to use "walk" colloquially with a chair user), to go to a party. Unfortunately, this makes people believe I don't need the chair at all. "The more you walk, the more strength you'll have, and will be able to walk more!" No. My legs are quite strong. It's the fatigue/pain that makes me unable to walk more, thank you so much for your completely unscientific assessment of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Fibromyalgia. People who have no idea what's wrong with you, or no understanding of your condition watch Dr. Oz and spread the shit.

People will also assume you're faking. I had a problem with this at work. A coworker started telling everyone that I was exaggerating for some assumedly dastardly reason. She was suspended for a week. But people have reported being viciously harassed when they stand up to pull a shirt off a clothing rack, or get a jar of pickles from a high shelf. There's a popular meme of a woman standing up from her chair to grab some booze (hey, we cripples drink too, man), with the caption "There's been a miracle in the liquor aisle." Not cool. In fact, something like 80% of wheelchair users can stand or walk at least a little. Memes like that send a dangerous message, and inform culture and public opinion. They make it okay to mock the disabled and spread the myth that only completely paralyzed people use wheelchairs. Everyone I meet out in the world assumes I'm paraplegic. Some family members even believe we don't need our chairs, and are using them as a "crutch." What a ridiculous metaphor. CRUTCHES HELP YOU WALK. WHEELCHAIRS HELP YOU "WALK." That's the point. I have family that has turned their backs on me because they believe this is all in my head or something, citing the fact that I can walk from my car to their front door, and other bullshit.

Which leads to to my next problem:

Using a wheelchair because you have a disease half the world thinks is made up: As mentioned, I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Fibromyalgia, among other things. Despite stacks and stacks of research, firm diagnostic criteria, and millions of people stuck on their couch going "Jesus Christ, make the pain/fatigue stop," people, including old, loser doctors, refuse to believe in it. They think it's like Santa Claus: a widespread lie that adults need to snap out of. This is what some of my family believes.

So, I find myself lectured on it by strangers, asked if I'm seeing a therapist, and questioning (again) if I really need my chair. Sometimes I wish I could just carry my doctor around in my purse and pull him out to explain this shit as needed. When people don't believe a disease is real, they will be reluctant to make the accommodations the law demands. Less money goes toward research. People are treated badly, and receive substandard care in hospitals, doctors' offices, nursing homes, therapists' practices, home care, or being cared for by family. It's a very, very dangerous belief.

A few final annoyances: Why are people so shocked we can drive? FDR had hand controls on his car; they've been around for awhile. And just because I can't run around, doesn't mean my legs are so bad off I can't press on a pedal.

Next, quit freaking out when your kids stare or ask a question. They're kids. Once, I turned down an aisle in Kroger. A little girl, lost in her imagination was in my way. Before I could politely ask her to please move, her mother grabbed her and yanked her out of my way, scolding her. You are teaching kids to be nervous around and avoid disabled people. We train our kids to treat the disabled like untouchable, pitiable things that you must skirt about. Gently tell your child asking personal questions is rude. Explain some people use wheelchairs because it's hard for them to walk. Let the disabled person decide if they want to answer with details. Google some resources for them at home, and learn together.

It's already been said, but is worth repeating: Do not push our chairs without our explicit permission. When sitting in the chair, it becomes part of your body. Touching the chair is like touching us. Pushing the chair is like having someone come up behind you and shove you with both hands. It's a violation of our personal space, and feels disturbing. And please, don't touch our chairs or our bodies in any way without that permission. Our chair is very expensive medical equiment. Touching us might make our pain worse, injure us, and, let's be frank, you're not touching other people like that.The only person whom I've ever let push me was my best friend, when we were walking on a path at the zoo that was hilly. The only people who touch my chair, and me, are close friends and family. And the folks I boink, but they don't count.

By the way, related to boinking and dating, frickin' stop assuming we're all sexless creatures. Disabled people have all kinds of sex. Quadriplegics have sex. People with Cerebral Palsy have sex. People with no limbs have sex. We think about it, we get horny, we masturbate, and we fuck. Unless a person is asexual (and even then they might masturbate, enjoy necking, cuddde), they are sexual. We come in all flavours. In fact, in both gender identity and sexual orientation we come in more than 31 flavours: straight, gay, bi, pan, trans, cis, genderfluid, aaexual, aromantic; you name it. I myself am a femme genderqueer pansexual. Because being disabled wasn't minority enough for me, I guess. The idea of cripples as sexless beings still pervades our culture and inhibits us from forming romantic and sexual bonds, as well as from participating in LGBTQIA culture. Pride parades are not always accessible. People you approach to date freak out about what's going to happen when it comes near time to do it.

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I could go on all night, but I have work in the morning. Gotta make that cash. I'm saving up for a wheelchair cushion that doesn't make my skinny butt scream in pain. Thanks for reading!

This varies so much. My daughter (aged 27) is in a wheelchair, and needs me to wheel her everywhere. The worse is along the lines of “You shouldn’t be in that chair at your age. Get out and let your poor mother use it” (I’m 60 and have degenerative disc disease, so sometimes hobble a bit !). Also there are the people who tut at her and wheel her out of their way so they can get to something behind her - without asking her to move, or saying anything else to her. This is really distressing for her since she is Autistic and when upset becomes mute. I can’t leave her unattended because of this (and sometimes she wants to be left to look at things on her own) . Then on the Plus side there are the people who have stopped traffic so we can cross the road, pushed her up hills for me, and put our shopping through the self service till for me when they saw me struggling with shopping baskets and a wheelchair. My worse bugbears - having to put her wheelchair facing backwards on the bus (it makes her vomit) and being trapped in small spaces in shops by (mainly) parents who just glare at us. I’m sorry - we cant reverse, turn or manoeuvre easily with an extra - wide wheelchair, so if you are able - bodied please pick up your child and move around/away from us.

It’s really a mixed bag, but i find the good outweigh the bad. Also a smile and a “thank you” have usually got me through most situations.

Imagine if you suddenly lost a lot of your height. Remember how it felt in a crowd when you were a young child trying to see what is going on ahead and being bumped into because people didn’t see you. Well that is definitely part of it. Don’t get me wrong it is SO much better than not being able to get around at all but you have to be so patient because people just aren’t seeing you. If you’ve ever driven a motorcycle or bike on the road; you might know the hyper-vigilance required. Physically your arms (and shoulders) get so sore and so tired, even worse than using crutches. Nothing is set at a convenient height unless everyone sits to use it. Lots of people automatically treat you like the age your current (seated) height would indicate (or younger).

If you do ever need to use a manual wheelchair be sure to get some weight lifting gloves. Without gloves you will get horrible blisters until you get used to it.

Mine gets uncomfortable quite quickly especially if I don’t shift my position often. It’s actually quite comfortable with my seat cushion and I seat in it for most of the day especially in the winter months when my driveway is too dangerous for me to roll down it. It helps me in the good weather for getting exhausted from using my walker and I can accomplish much more in it. You have to learn how/when to do things to prevent soreness but you have to do what you have to do or you will have serious issues. The one thing that I have found is better is when you get tired you can simply stop and rest. I never have to look for somewhere to sit down and always have a seat everywhere I go.

I use a wheelchair because I have chronic muscle weakness, fatigue and pain. I'm not capable of wheeling myself, so either I use a powered wheelchair or I am pushed around by someone else. I'm 44 but look younger, which will affect things.

Obviously I can't tell what people think most of the time. That said, there are some common themes.

1. People think I'm paralysed in some way. They are then appalled when they see me walk a short distance and then…
2. They think I'm faking it. In other words, they think I'm lazy and/or a benefits cheat. Ugh.
3. They don't have an opinion because I'm pretty well invisible to them. This category appears to include architects, town planners and people who close doors in my face.
4. They expect me to have a specific condition that they've heard of. (Multiple sclerosis is a common one.) I then have to explain all the vagaries of my conditions.
5. They have “benign concern”. Many people are just genuinely helpful without having strong opinions. Sometimes they can be rather too helpful, but that's usually OK.
6. They understand disability. These people are usually carers or are disabled themselves. They see beyond the wheelchair and any questions are generally to do with sharing experiences.

As you may guess, people in category 6 are my favourites. People in categories 1, 4 and 5 are just fine most of the time. People in categories 2 and 3 can go jump in the $PLACE_OF_EXTREME_EDUCATION.

I actually think it should be mandatory for at least engineering and architecture students (and probably urban planning students) to spend a week getting around exclusively with a wheelchair. They need to have an understanding of just how difficult it is to try to navigate:

• uneven sidewalks (especially those with one side of the panel near level and the other side being a 3–4″ step)
• too-narrow doorways (many buildings still don’t have 36″ doorways)
• super-heavy doors without automatic openers, which require you to try to hold onto the door with one hand and back your chair up by alternating which wheel you’re pushing with your other hand
• “level” entrances that are actually a 2″ step, especially if you’ve also got to navigate a door in the same entrance
• poorly-placed curb cuts (it sucks to discover you’ve got to backtrack half a block and then roll down the driving lane because there’s no ramp at the corner where you need to cross, or because it was placed a few feet off the corner and someone’s parked so they’re blocking it)
• ramps that go too far between level landings or rise at too steep an angle, making it take forever to get up the ramp, especially without specialized grade aids attached to the chair
• poorly-cleared sidewalks in wintry ice/snow, and overgrown bushes next to the sidewalks blocking most of the path in summer
• bicycles riding down the sidewalk, and cars stopping across it while trying to get out onto busy roads
• buses which only have 2 wheelchair spots per bus, which have them all full during rush hour and end up having to wait for 4–5 more buses to find one with an open spot (which can be an extra hour of waiting)
• long buildings with elevators only at one end of the building and important things (like laundry rooms, or offices frequently visited by people with disabilities, or the accessible restrooms) a long way down the hall
• narrow-doored elevators (my chair is 35″ wide at the wheels, some elevators are 30″ door which makes the whole building inaccessible to me)
• elevators only large enough to roll straight into and not turn around, so you either have to back in or back out
• slow half-story platform lifts (literally like a 5-minute cycle to bring the lift down so you can go up 3.5 feet!!)
• buildings that only have the chair-type stairlifts (so you have to transfer to that chair and try to drag your wheelchair up the stairs as the chair rises)

Actually, it might not be a bad thing for EVERYONE to have to go through that for a few days as they’re going through school, as part of perhaps a health class, both to teach the basic skills so that people who later end up needing them aren’t starting from absolute scratch after an injury, and to teach a little patience and empathy to people who’d otherwise be bitching about how slow it is being stuck behind someone pushing themselves around. (As far as that empathy goes, make sure they’ve also had the experience of someone impatient moving them out of the way to reach something in a store, or shoving them out into traffic, or “helping” them navigate a hill they were trying to get up by pushing them all the way back to the bottom!!!)

But, given all of those challenges that come with trying to navigate our current world from a wheelchair, it’s hardly surprising that very few people who don’t absolutely need a wheelchair will choose to use one.

"Wow you're really good with that thing!" Well I use a wheelchair every day, I would have to be.

"You're brave!" **looks down at milk and eggs** **scratches head** What's so brave about buying Milk and eggs, unless this is a minefield that I've stumbled upon on Aisle 6 and didn't know.

"You're lucky to have such cool wheels!" Well this one doesn't bother me as much. My caster wheels light up. So yeah thanks. I do have cool wheels. My chair has Snoopy all over it. I love Snoopy. He's my life coach.

Stares............

What in the world are you looking at? Have you ever seen someone in a chair for goodness sakes? Didnt your mother ever tell you it's rude? Besides, I've been staring too and your fly is open.

**walks in front of me and stops** Okay this is a good way for be to clip the back of your ankles. Why would you think this is a good idea? Seriously? I will run you the fuck over and not give a damn. Seriously. Don't do this. Especially if you like your ankles and want to wear sandals this Summer.

**Gives me a dirty look for sharing an elevator with you** This one grinds my gears. Many times I've rolled up to an elevator and have had people roll their eyes or even slam the door in my face. Yes. It's incredibly rude. People who can possibly use the stairs, choose not to. Don't tell me anything about invisible disabilities when I see you walking around the same store with me for HOURS. Your disability really must be invisible..like nonexistent. I need to use this elevator.

Mothers with Large Strollers

Okay some of these women driving these monstrosities around believe they own every thing from elevators, the disabled section on the bus, and curb cuts. When I was a bus driver, I had no mercy. You had to fold it up or get off my bus. If you refused, I'd remove the bus out of service and call the police. They are extremely dangerous on a bus.

For some reason, some of these women who think they're special because they've popped human life out of their special place, believe that they're entitled to use spaces that benefit them due to universal design. But without the ADA, these spaces wouldn't even exist. I've been given horrible looks from these women more than anyone. (I'm a mom too so....spare me the hate messages. I never acted this way)

Mothers with strollers, I feel your pain. However, you're not entitled to that space on the bus. You're blocking the curb cut with that mini van you call a stroller and other people need to use it too. I will need to use the elevator as well so can you move over a bit? We can be courteous to each other. Let's share the space.

I use a Walker more than I do my wheelchair, but I doubt that changes my ability to answer this question.

Parking Spaces

To add on to an earlier answer regarding parking spaces, we notice when there is just one. That one singular parking spot you are required to put in your little lot, that is nearly always, ever so conveniently taken up by someone else. So, the only way I get to go is if i go in super early to make it so that I get that one handicapped parking spot you were so gracious to give me. Because, Lord knows you would complain if I took two of the normal spots. Even if that handicapped spot is still taken, obviously you need a spot more than me

A King-sized Bed Ain't for Everyone

I don't know about any other country, but here in the U.S. if you request a handicapped accessible room 9/10 times(from my personal experience) the room only has one king-sized bed. Now I have a fiancee who I go on my trips with, but back when I was a child and I would go on trips with my parents and siblings, this was never enough. We had no choice but to get the regular rooms that had two queen sized beds and a bathroom half the size of a closet.

I could never get my Walker in the bathroom, let alone anywhere else in the room, so I had to crawl everywhere and asked for help any time I had to go to the bathroom. Crawling everywhere wasn't much of an issue for me as a child, I loved it. But, there's no way in hell I could do that as an adult, and I feel for anyone who has a family of their own and gets stuck in that position, especially if their children are old enough that a king-sized bed for everyone isn't feasible. Or, even someone who goes on a trip with their caretaker, and has to share a bed with them.

You Say We Can Do Whatever We Wish, But Don't Give Us The Chance

It was often said to me as a child by both family and complete strangers that I can do whatever I set my mind to, no matter my limitations, but it didn't take long for me to find out that wasn't true. You wouldn't even give me the chance to do so, in academics if I wished to take AP courses as a high-schooler you'd say I took to long to fo my work, despite knowing full well that my academic ability was not what caused me to be slow. On top of the fact that the work I did was repeatedly given some of the highest grades of all my peers in my English class.

You said I could get a job as an adult and made me feel bad for having to go on disability because I was “Taking tax payers money without earning it.” but then never gave me a chance to start working because most entry-level jobs are physically demanding. “Get a degree.” you said to me. That will help me branch out into the workforce.

Well, I am. And, even despite all this work I'm doing to get a degree I know that will inevitably be nothing more than a piece of paper to hang on my wall, which will do little more than gather dust. You must be asking yourself why. Because, no one wants to hire a disabled person, no matter the tax breaks they get, it would simply be bad for their business. A physically normal person who can work 40 hours or more and needs no accommodations in order to do their job will inevitably make more money for the company than a disabled person who may be able to work only 20 hours a week or less, on top of needing accommodations for it to even be possible to work those few hours. But, of course you won't admit to me that this is the case, that it is my disability that prevents me from the job. Instead, you would say that I am simply not the right fit, or that you already found someone to do the work. These comments only serve to mask what I know you were really thinking, and they don't make me feel any better about being turned down, all they do is help you feel better about yourself because you feel uncomfortable admitting to me that the work world is not made for me.

I don't even so much mind that I can't work, I've come to accept that. I understand that for a business profit is the bottom line. What I do mind is how you tried to hide this truth from me behind soft language and then make me feel bad for needing a disability check each month, as punny as it is. Because, I'm taking hard working Americans money from them. If only I could be one of those people.

It is Alright for your Kids to Stare, They can even say Hello.

I have seen kids stare at me a thousands times, and I have seen parents pull their kids away a thousand more. Hell, even as a disabled child I was guilty of this myself when I saw another disabled person, particularly if their disability was much different than my own. It's in a child's nature to stare, they’re curious. That curious nature never leaves some adults. In fact, you do more harm than good to your children by pulling them away. You teach them that they must not come up to disabled people, potentially even a disabled child.

This leaves many disabled children lonely while not allowing your children to see that the disabled person is no different than they are. Perhaps they could even learn about the person's disability so they can know what to do to help a future classmate or friend who is disabled. Let your children say hi to me, let them ask questions, this is helpful to everyone.

My fiancée is wheelchair enabled not me. She is Deafdisabled so her experiences are going to have a different flavor based on that as well. There are those that leave her/us alone, we tend to prefer them. But we have the well meaners and the just plain means too. She has people assault her trying to help her when I'm not there to stop them. Quite a few don't understand her asking to be left alone and so refuse to do so and I've often been involved and they assume she had as much difficulty understanding them as they did her, this is very much not the case, Deaf people are usually quite good at figuring out what a hearing person is blathering about. We do question why these people are so dense in getting her leave me alone message, she uses oral English and exaggerated hand gestures to try and get rid of these people, one literally chased her through two floors of a building! We are seriously considering getting notes for her to hold up this is becoming such a problem, she just wants to be able to roll away from me for two seconds and not be assaulted by a crazy abled, is that too much to ask?!

Just plain means make the snide remarks for all the various reasons and the down talkers to me fall into this category too. They are the ones more likely to assault her for being in the way. Some of them probably don't start out mean and might ask her to move and then get mad at her for “ignoring" them, this is where her being Deaf plays a big role. Abled bodied Deaf people are assaulted by frustrated hearing people who assume they are being ignored too, when someone is Deafdisabled it becomes more dangerous and upsetting. My fiancée being wheelchair enabled makes them slightly less dangerous to her physically but when she used a walker in public she risked a fall whenever these assholes grabbed her from behind. Again this is something being with me or another hearing person prevents, which pisses me off, I want her to be safe and able to go off and do her own thing if she wants even if I'm clingy and like being around her more than being apart. Sometimes divide and conquer of a store makes an errand go faster and we shouldn't have to worry about people putting their hands on her or her mobility equipment! For the record, unless a disabled person is in clear danger you do NOT touch their mobility equipment without their permission! We don't walk up to random strangers and grab their arms and legs and try to drag them around and we expect the same courtesy to be shown my beloved!

There is a third group I'd like to mention, those who feel the need to talk to me about how amazing I am and how lucky she is to have me. Usually this is gushed in front of her after we've explained for the millionth time we aren't sisters, I'm not *just* her friend or caregiver and wtf I'm not her mom she is older than me! We look nothing alike, the automatic assumption that we are family boggles the mind, the rest is an obnoxious mix of ableism and heteronormative crap and it is exhausting. Especially when we are fawning over each other and I'm kissing on her, I promise everyone I do NOT do such with my sisters, my baby sister was extremely traumatized at just the thought! Disabled people, and Deaf people, are people, they do people things like fall in love and have sex, people need to stop acting like this is a novel concept and that the people they are with aren't also normal people who happen to fall in love and lust with someone small minded people have trouble seeing as the amazing person they are. I feel sorry for them, they probably don't have as good of sex either, poor things.

It depends on the situation. I’m an ambulatory wheelchair user.

Are you asking because you are seating people in a restaurant and want to be sure you seat them where everyone can sit comfortably? I will usually say “I can transfer to a booth if one’s available.” Most of us who are ambulatory will convey this kind of thing to a person who needs to know.

If I’m going for an MRI at an imaging center, there will be a team of people who are ready to help me. They’ll ask “Do you need help?” because my chair can’t go past the door where the MRI is. I have to either use the chair at the imaging center because they know it has zero metal in it, or someone will assist me in walking if I tell them I can make that walk.

The thing is, if you’re asking this question of someone, it tells me that you don’t know them well, so the question will definitely come across as nosey. If you did know them, you would already know the answer to the question of “Do you need help transferring?”

If there’s no need for you to know, then there’s no need for you to ask the question.

This can be a complicated answer. I started life in a wheel chair. Once I learned to walk I was quickly diagnosed with childhood arthritis and put in a wheelchair for two years. I fought wildly to get out of that chair. I actually remember sitting, getting angry that I couldn’t walk like my siblings and trying to stand, screaming in pain and sitting back down. I never gave up and by six was out of the chair…for years. I worked hard to be active to always be moving, to run and ride bike and do everything my childlike brain could think of to never be back in the chair.

I have shattered my knee in 17 places and broken my back, neck and other bones while rock climbing in the French, German and Austrian Alps. I have been disabled since that time (31 years). There have been times I needed a wheel chair. For almost two years I sat in the chair while recovering from having both knee total replacements. Standing is still difficult but I practice doing it often because I don’t want to be bound to the chair ever again even though my doctor tells me it’s coming sooner rather than later.

I use the chair when I just can’t stand up. I ordered steel tubing and electric and hydraulic motors, sensors and actuators and built my own electric 4 wheel drive hydraulically driven wheelchair so I can continue to run my farm. Leg braces and walk behind robotic hand truck that lifts bales of hay and moves heavy bins of grain…if I can walk upright slowly behind it and push the right buttons it does the work. I can now lift about 15 lbs and have very poor grip. My back has an implant to block pain from registering in my brain. I can’t walk without it. I’m not an engineer but I am a physicist so I took what I know and learned what I needed to to build what I need.

I can walk. But not always. Some days I can stroll the trail around my farm and come back refreshed after a three hour walk…some days I can’t stand up. I hate the chair but sometimes I need it. I hate knowing I can’t do a thing…but I LOVE figuring out how to do it!

there are many people who can walk but not walk far. Some people have neurological diseases that let them have deceptively wonderful days of no pain and easy movement…to days of horror and deep pain. There are some who are overweight and working on it but need mobility while they do…and there are some who don’t need a chair at all but are satisfied to sit there and let their life pass by without event or victory…and that’s tragic.

Not every person in a chair needs one ALL the time. In fact, perhaps, most of us can get up and do basic tasks on our own without the chair but need it when we are tired or have more than a basic task to accomplish. I hate my wheelchair…and thank God that I have it every day.

I remember when I was 16 and in hospital, there was a girl with anorexia who was supposed to be on bed-rest. The nurses used a wheelchair to take her to and from the toilet/shower/ scales, and I remember her saying she felt awkward using the chair, because she felt she didn't need it and that there were people who needed one more than she did.

From a personal perspective, I had what everyone would consider a “temporary disability” in that I broke my feet and ankles really really badly. I didn't really think about what the wheelchair meant at the time, but 8 years later, it is now a permanent disability, and I'm keeping the chair. People assume that since broken bones heal, that when your cast/ex-fix comes off, you're all ok and can go back to normal, but that isn't always the case. I have chronic pain from my breaks, some of it is arthritic, some of it is tissue and nerve pain from the operations, and some is pain in my hips from the small period of time I was able to walk, when my gait was bad and I was putting extra pressure through my hips while (subcontiously) trying to avoid putting it through my ankles. Anyway, I digress, but I just wanted you to know that lower limb injuries that seem temporary, aren't always temporary. Hope my answer is ok.

Often people simply do not have the experience to relate to what life is like for someone in a wheelchair, so they simply relate it to themselves. They imagine what it would be like if they suddenly were confined to a wheelchair. Most people assume it would be very difficult and until they had learned compensation behaviours to be able to resume usual actitivities, it probably would be very difficult. This is what people often project onto the "poor" person in the wheelchair.

And what people often don't realize is that each of us is very capable of being the best version of herself, just as we are and if we choose that.

Well...it is a constant struggle. You would that since the invention of the wheel that mankind would adapt its surroundings to use it. There is no straight line. I used to be able to hop on my bike, scooter, rollerblades, or skateboard and go for a ride. Now I charge a chair overnight, sit in it uncomfortably, and go no more than 7 miles an hour. Anywhere. Yes, it is stressful, yet without it I would feel totally lost. I get to play with my kids, and live a relatively normal life. There is one thing that really bothers me, though, ever since I became disabled there are 2 types of interaction with others in public. One is an offer of assistance, which I am always grateful for(I try to be, I really do), the other is disdain/ignorance. The latter happens more than the former. I wish it didn't, yet it does. At first I let the negativity overcome me. Now I celebrate those that help, and engage those that are rude in an attempt to educate, hopefully changing behavior.

As for the finding out, I was 35, active, slightly overweight, and constantly in motion. One day the disease began to attack. First in my arms, then my legs, then everywhere. I remember sitting at my work desk, reading the date, and then I began to experience stroke-like symptoms, numbness, slurring, and dizziness. I began to fall suddenly while walking from bed to the bathroom, I remember falling, and waking up with my head bleeding. I went to the hospital, got a diagnosis, and fought it for 2 years. I asked for a 2nd, a 3rd, and even a 4th opinion. I went to the Mayo clinic. I used up my sick days, my vacation, and my short term disability. I lost my house, my car, and my savings. Thankfully, my wife saved me. She kept me sane, treated me normally, and bore the stress, until I accepted. The last time I walked was from a bench to my van. I had assistance. Mobility just kind of faded away. Now I use a power wheelchair for daily life. In retrospect, I found plenty of signs it was coming. Fatigue, headaches, muscle pain, grey times, and loss of sleep. I should have been in a chair sooner. It would have saved me from some pretty serious injuries. Now I shop for cool stuff for my chair, a van with a ramp, and try and advocate for the disabled. Life is okay. Life is different. Life has challenges unknown. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Actually, when my daughter has been out and about in her wheelchair, people have been invariably kind. Sometimes, almost too kind. LOL (I’ll explain what I mean.)

A young man in drag flirting with my daughter

My daughter does very well, navigating herself about despite the fact that our city (established in 1548) is NOT wheelchair-user-friendly at all. Bumpy, cobblestone streets or broken sidewalk tiles are not comfortable to navigate when you’re in pain.

That said, the vast majority of people have been very kind and polite. Sidewalks are narrow, so if they see her coming, they’ll get out of the way quickly. If they’re standing in line and talking to someone whose back is turned and doesn’t see her, they’ll let the other person know that someone needs to get by. In restaurants, people quickly rearrange chairs. The pans of disinfectant you’re supposed to step through (due to COVID) are moved aside for her and someone often springs forward to hold the door for her.

I usually help her navigate up and down curbs when we’re crossing streets and that is where the “too kind” comes in. While everyone here jaywalks (it’s not illegal) we typically wait for the light to change so that we have more time and can do what we need to do without feeling rushed. Often, however, on-coming drivers will see us standing there while the jaywalkers are just reaching the other side. We don’t mind waiting for the light to change, but they apparently feel bad for us, not being able to jaywalk. LOL Even with other cars behind them, they will gesture for us to go ahead and go while they stop and hold up traffic doing so.

It’s sweet of them, but we don’t mind waiting. We’d prefer it to being kindly waved through, then feeling we have to rush because cars are waiting. LOL

My daughter is very friendly and out-going. People are constantly smiling and nodding at her. It’s obviously not typical to see a beautiful young person in a wheelchair, so people of all ages will strike up conversations with her.

Stores are usually difficult to get into, requiring a tall step up or down and, sometimes, a step up before you have to step down. We take it at our own pace, but it’s rare that she can roll directly from the sidewalk into a store. Perhaps the kindest thing anyone has ever done for her has been to install a wheelchair ramp in a store she likes to frequent. The entry way is fairly narrow. This isn’t an exterior ramp beside the stairs most people use. Instead, the ramp was installed inside the store to cover the two steps down so that anyone coming into the store now simply walks down the ramp instead. They had clearly seen us struggling before so to come one day and discover a ramp there instead was probably the kindest thing anyone has ever done.

One thing that is fairly common that also borders on rude is people will ask, “What happened to you?” They don’t mean it as rude. It’s just idle curiosity, but it can get old and my daughter doesn’t always want to explain her medical history just because someone wants to indulge their curiosity. My daughter handles it with her usual sense of humor. With a sparkling laugh, she’ll trot out one of a number of different answers, such as:

“I was born.”
“Eight seconds of glory; a lifetime of regret.”
“Time travel weakens the body.”
“Shhh! Don’t blow my cover. I work for the British government. Agent 004.5.”
“I challenged Chuck Norris to a fight in hand-to-hand combat. I almost won.”

By and large, though, people have been very kind and very helpful. I think the fact that she will smile and nod or greet them has contributed to their kind treatment of her. Most people are not malicious; they just don’t have experience dealing with someone in a wheelchair. Because she shows herself friendly, they relax and warm right up to her.