Oh, right, like I could wait until Sunday to do this again. Actually, considering my weekend schedule, Friday night looked like the best time to go for a spin.
What I had forgotten was that on Friday night, the mallrats come out in force. They travel in packs and their movements are unpredictable and erratic.
Weeknights, then, would be a good time to go out and about.
Regarding Doors - Everyone Wants to be Galahad
The doors for Anonymous Mall aren't great but they aren't terrible, either. There's a wheelchair entrance of one door, with the big square button to push. The sills aren't raised. It's easy to get into. The Anonymous Bookstore, on the other hand, is a stone bitch. Yet, I managed. I had to leave the mall to get into the bookstore.
Honestly, the only attention I pay to people is to make sure no one is darting in front of my path, which would end badly for both of us.
But as I approached the bookstore's doors, two guys ran ahead of me to get the door for me. While I appreciate the gesture, it isn't necessary. I grabbed the first door, shot through it and as someone was getting ready to hold open the second door, I opened it and used the door jambs to shoot on through. I heard a disappointed little "oh" behind me.
"Got it, thanks," I called over my shoulder.
The same thing happened as I re-entered the mall.
But the worst door, the almost insurmountable yet most vital door, was the one leading into the ladies' room. I'm sure it has to open inward to the bathroom to meet some kind of code, but the way this one was positioned was just a pain.
Otherwise, no problems.
Floors
Ceramic tile = Evil.
Padded carpet = Evil.
Unpadded carpet = Better.
Plain old floor, such as linoleum or wood = Whee!
Smooth cement = Watch my dust.
But you probably already knew that.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
First Flight
I had the tricky part of the chair fixed at a bike shop. The guy was able to get the seat back into the right position. I think he was initially a little freaked out about it, but after a few minutes, he was just working on machinery, which made him happy.
He was fascinated by the quick release pin for the wheels. I also think I put the casters on wrong, but that's another adventure at a later date.
For the past three years, I've known exactly where I would head the first day I had my chair: the Anonymous Mall. No one I know goes there because it's out of the way and a bit down at heels.
The parking lot was full.
I lucked into a spot relatively close to the book store I wanted to go to. I got the chair out of the car, assembled it, and got in. I closed the trunk and set off slowly.
What I didn't realize while it was happening was that I had to go up a slight incline to get into the store. There were double non-automatic doors with raised sills.
Every middle-aged woman in the book store rushed to the front to open all of the doors for me at once. I said thank you because I genuinely needed that bit of assistance. So. Thanks.
In the store, I took a minute to orient myself to being in an unfamiliar store and at tush height, no less.
I picked out a couple of books and wheeled over to the cafe area. I was already jazzed up/borderline manic without making it worse with a cup of high octane coffee, so I just wheeled up to a table, scooted over one of the chair, and thumbed through my books.
There were a couple of things I learned.
One is energy conservation. I was in the middle of the store and wanted to look at cookbooks. Instead of drifting all over the place, I asked a sales clerk which direction to the cookbooks and she pointed me on my way.
I haven't the least idea if anybody stared at me, nor do I care. I was more concerned about getting from point A to point B without falling on my face. When I left the store, I was feeling considerably more confident and I bulled through the doors. "Oh wait," one woman said, chasing after me,"I'll get the door for you."
"Got it, thanks," I called over my shoulder.
And then I zipped down the slight incline and began to feel what my cadence will be like when I wheel longer distances. It takes some experimenting to get into the groove. To find your own particular groove.
I got into the car and thought about how odd it was.
When I was in the chair, it was as if my legs and indeed, anything from my hips down, didn't exist. I didn't expect them to do anything to aid me in my travels.
Getting in the car, it really was a bit of a struggle. I sat and looked at my legs. I said, "All right. You have to work now." And after a few minutes, they did.
When I got home, I thought, that was interesting but I don't know if I ever have to do that again.
Today, I started planning a trip for Sunday.
He was fascinated by the quick release pin for the wheels. I also think I put the casters on wrong, but that's another adventure at a later date.
For the past three years, I've known exactly where I would head the first day I had my chair: the Anonymous Mall. No one I know goes there because it's out of the way and a bit down at heels.
The parking lot was full.
I lucked into a spot relatively close to the book store I wanted to go to. I got the chair out of the car, assembled it, and got in. I closed the trunk and set off slowly.
What I didn't realize while it was happening was that I had to go up a slight incline to get into the store. There were double non-automatic doors with raised sills.
Every middle-aged woman in the book store rushed to the front to open all of the doors for me at once. I said thank you because I genuinely needed that bit of assistance. So. Thanks.
In the store, I took a minute to orient myself to being in an unfamiliar store and at tush height, no less.
I picked out a couple of books and wheeled over to the cafe area. I was already jazzed up/borderline manic without making it worse with a cup of high octane coffee, so I just wheeled up to a table, scooted over one of the chair, and thumbed through my books.
There were a couple of things I learned.
One is energy conservation. I was in the middle of the store and wanted to look at cookbooks. Instead of drifting all over the place, I asked a sales clerk which direction to the cookbooks and she pointed me on my way.
I haven't the least idea if anybody stared at me, nor do I care. I was more concerned about getting from point A to point B without falling on my face. When I left the store, I was feeling considerably more confident and I bulled through the doors. "Oh wait," one woman said, chasing after me,"I'll get the door for you."
"Got it, thanks," I called over my shoulder.
And then I zipped down the slight incline and began to feel what my cadence will be like when I wheel longer distances. It takes some experimenting to get into the groove. To find your own particular groove.
I got into the car and thought about how odd it was.
When I was in the chair, it was as if my legs and indeed, anything from my hips down, didn't exist. I didn't expect them to do anything to aid me in my travels.
Getting in the car, it really was a bit of a struggle. I sat and looked at my legs. I said, "All right. You have to work now." And after a few minutes, they did.
When I got home, I thought, that was interesting but I don't know if I ever have to do that again.
Today, I started planning a trip for Sunday.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Mine
It's sitting in my bedroom, the Quickie 2 wheelchair that arrived yesterday. I put most of it together, but not being mechanically-minded, I was stymied by one back post. I'll deal with it later, but want it dealt with by the weekend.
Because yes, that's when I'm taking my first trip with my chair.
My chair. My wheelchair.
Although one of my cats would disagree...
I was mortified to find that it is a bit of a squeeze to fit into it, but tell myself this should prove an incentive to fit into it better. (We don't say the "d" and "e" words here, although we think them, frequently)
And it's mine.
Someone had loaned me his for a good long while, but I thought I was keeping it in storage for him. As such, I didn't regard it as something I could play fast and loose with, although I did roll around the house a little bit with it. There was something about that chair - I never felt comfortable in it.
This one, I do. And we will begin our adventures together very soon. Stay tuned.
Because yes, that's when I'm taking my first trip with my chair.
My chair. My wheelchair.
Although one of my cats would disagree...
I was mortified to find that it is a bit of a squeeze to fit into it, but tell myself this should prove an incentive to fit into it better. (We don't say the "d" and "e" words here, although we think them, frequently)
And it's mine.
Someone had loaned me his for a good long while, but I thought I was keeping it in storage for him. As such, I didn't regard it as something I could play fast and loose with, although I did roll around the house a little bit with it. There was something about that chair - I never felt comfortable in it.
This one, I do. And we will begin our adventures together very soon. Stay tuned.
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