On the road of life, we can lead, follow or get out of the way. When you have “mobility issues,” and are being tailgated in a grocery store by an impatient shopper, option 3 is the most practical and safest avenue to take. The fear of being struck in the back of your legs by a cart can be a great motivator.
As you may have read here, I am on the road to recovery following a car accident. I have progressed from a hospital bed, to a wheelchair, to a walker to a cane, which I hope to be able to ditch in the near future. But this is not all about me.
Life in the slow lane has given me new perspective on those who live with physical limitations all of their lives.
Over the years, through legislation and societal pressures, accessibility for people living with disabilities has greatly improved.
Disability is part of being human, notes the World Health Organization. An estimated 1.3 billion people, about 16 per cent of the global population, currently experience significant disability, according to the WHO. And nobody is getting any younger.
“Disabilities” is an umbrella term, covering impairments, activity limitations, and participation restrictions. An impairment is a problem in body function or structure; an activity limitation is a difficulty encountered by an individual in executing a task or action, while a participation restriction is a problem experienced by an individual in involvement in life situations.
Automatic doors, ramps, accessible washrooms and various technological breakthroughs have improved access. But, for instance, one can only imagine how difficult it is for a person in a wheelchair to get around, particularly in winter when our world is cloaked in snow and ice.
Despite everyone’s best efforts, barriers remain.
As the Rick Hansen Foundation states, “People with disabilities still face social and physical barriers that stop them from being a part of their communities. While we’ve made great strides towards creating an accessible and inclusive world, there’s still more work to be done.”
In 1986, Rick Hansen rolled through Eastern Ontario on his Man In Motion worldwide tour. (Remember his theme song? St. Elmo’s Fire…”Gonna be your man in motion, all I need’s this pair of wheels.”) Hansen was halfway between Montreal and Ottawa, moving at an incredibly fast pace. His powerful arms pumping like pistons, Hansen propelled his wheelchair along a bumpy highway. Newspaper photographers scrambled to get a sharp shot of Hansen, who zipped past cheering crowds. He was a blur. Here one second, gone the next. The sighting lasted seconds. Totally driven, Hansen was fixated on the road ahead.
Today, Hansen continues to be a champion for the disabled, “working towards a world where everyone can go everywhere.”
Like so many things in life, we appreciate mobility and independence only when we lose them.
When you rely on a cane for support, opening a door or putting gas in the car can become a full body workout. It takes all your might to pick up a cat litter container. Walk up a flight of stairs and you need a nap. Forget about using a ladder for at least another six months. Sadly, it will be impossible to help with yard clean-up this fall.
When you are still a little unsteady, slip-on shoes, hand rails and wide steps are godsends.
There are never enough parking spaces for the handicapped, especially at hospitals and health centres because a lot of the clients there also have “considerations.”
Patience is tested at every turn. You are stuck in first gear when everyone else is driving a Formula 1 racer. Everything takes so much time.
There are times, when you are limping along a sidewalk or lurching through a parking lot, you can feel the pressure of others, almost breathing down your neck as they become frustrated because there is some old geezer in front of them, impeding their progress.
You read it here first: We must devise some device to alert the speedy that, to paraphrase Henry David Thoreau, not everyone can move at a rapid rate, that they are approaching a mobility-challenged individual, who happens to have a walking stick that can be used as a weapon.
Here we can derive inspiration from sports and agriculture.
In minor hockey, STOP patches on the backs of sweaters remind players not to hit opponents from behind. Farmers are obliged to display Slow-Moving Vehicle signs on their implements.
So, a “Slow Moving Person” flap would be handy when less mobile folks find themselves in long lineups.
A whole new line of T-shirts could find a niche market. Think of the possible messages: “Please stay back 50 metres” or “My other cart is a Maserati” or “I’d rather be at physio therapy.”
In stores, the self-check-out lanes, which are impersonal job killers and appealing to slow movers because the machines permit plodders to go at their own pace.
It is refreshing to see how many strangers want to lend a hand when you are lame. On a regular basis, somebody will offer to return a grocery cart back to the corral for me, despite protests that, “No, no, I can do this all by myself. Motion is lotion; need the exercise, I am good.”
And on behalf of all of us who are travelling at a slower speed than the rest of the world, thank you for your patience.
Let me know what you think at rmahoney@seawaynews.media
L’article Life in the slow lane: Please keep a safe distance est apparu en premier sur Cornwall Seaway News.
