I wrote yesterday that the bathroom in the conference room was OK because it has two wheelchair stalls.
Not really.
I had to use the second stall today because someone was in the first.
Turns out it is a hybrid stall, which sounds like it should be awesome but is not. It was wider than normal stalls with grab bars on the walls, but no room for my chair next to the toilet. And thank goodness Claren got the day off: She'd have had nowhere to go.
The only way to close the stall door was to wheel up so my chair touched the toilet. Of course, then I could not get out of my chair. And I did have to use the bathroom.
I wound up just leaving the door cracked open while I sat and took care of business.
I know many people who aren't in wheelchairs use wheelchair stalls sometimes and sometimes for good reasons. But when you are alone, not in a chair and there is a stall right next door with a high toilet and grab bars, I really wish they wouldn't.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
This is nothing like college
Rodney Dangerfield's Back to School left me woefully unprepared for my return to the classroom.
Granted, I am in a 9-5 class at work about a new computer system we're getting, not on a campus full of dumb jocks and pretty girls. But, I've finished day 2 of the class today, and no one has invited me to a crazy bacchanal or even asked me to perform the Triple Lindy.
I am getting disillusioned and really tired.
At first, I thought the class would be a fun change of pace, even though I wouldn't get to work on the Detroit auto show much. I am also the only person with a dotcom background and several people have told me how key I will be in designing the new dotcom interface. I also got $10 worth of gift cards to the cafeteria so I was thinking, "cool."
But I never knew how tiring it is to try to listen to someone when you can't hear that well. There are just nine of us in the class, so it is not like I sit far away. I can hear the instructors fine, until they start talking to another student.
I also didn't realize how much I use sight to type and how hard that is in the dark. It's dark so we can see the big screen at the head of the class.
The bathroom in the conference room area is good and bad. The door is not automatic but is quite light, and they are several wheelchair stalls. I can't really reach the paper towels to dry my hands off, though, so I dry my hands on my shirt.
Today, I left the bathroom (is it odd I originally wrote "I walked out of bathroom?) and this co-worker was there and he introduced me to a few other folks. I debated declining to shake hands because my hands were damp, then I decided: Screw it, it's the towel inaccessibility, let them get a taste. So I shook hands. They probably thought I was a slob or something. Not sure it was the right call.
It's better than when in Back to School Rodney spits out a meatball into his hand, discards it, then tries to shake someone's hand. So don't watch Back to School for classroom tips, but it has got etiquette galore. And a Springsteen reference!
Granted, I am in a 9-5 class at work about a new computer system we're getting, not on a campus full of dumb jocks and pretty girls. But, I've finished day 2 of the class today, and no one has invited me to a crazy bacchanal or even asked me to perform the Triple Lindy.
I am getting disillusioned and really tired.
At first, I thought the class would be a fun change of pace, even though I wouldn't get to work on the Detroit auto show much. I am also the only person with a dotcom background and several people have told me how key I will be in designing the new dotcom interface. I also got $10 worth of gift cards to the cafeteria so I was thinking, "cool."
But I never knew how tiring it is to try to listen to someone when you can't hear that well. There are just nine of us in the class, so it is not like I sit far away. I can hear the instructors fine, until they start talking to another student.
I also didn't realize how much I use sight to type and how hard that is in the dark. It's dark so we can see the big screen at the head of the class.
The bathroom in the conference room area is good and bad. The door is not automatic but is quite light, and they are several wheelchair stalls. I can't really reach the paper towels to dry my hands off, though, so I dry my hands on my shirt.
Today, I left the bathroom (is it odd I originally wrote "I walked out of bathroom?) and this co-worker was there and he introduced me to a few other folks. I debated declining to shake hands because my hands were damp, then I decided: Screw it, it's the towel inaccessibility, let them get a taste. So I shook hands. They probably thought I was a slob or something. Not sure it was the right call.
It's better than when in Back to School Rodney spits out a meatball into his hand, discards it, then tries to shake someone's hand. So don't watch Back to School for classroom tips, but it has got etiquette galore. And a Springsteen reference!
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Insured but not happy
I ordered new glasses Friday, no thanks to Sears Optical.
I went there for the eye exan because it is on my insurance. But the signs suggested we run far away from Sears. We should have listened.
We parked at Point A, the curb cut was at Point B 30 feet away. The ramp into the store was back at Point A.
But that's not all. At the optician's office, they had a space heater going.
After the exam, I went to buy some glasses. They had 20 frames to choose from, none of them titanium, which I wanted since I bang my glasses around, and a harried technician.
We left without buying anything, and I noticed Target Optical was also in my network, so we stopped there. What a difference. Selection, plenty of titanium frames and pleasant help.
She rang up the glasses and told me that it would be cheaper to buy without insurance because the generic discount would be better. I wish I could say I was surprised, but my vision insurance is the a joke. That's OK, though. I know it is a joke -- it gets me cheap eye exams mainly -- and its price hasn't changed for several years.
Unlike, say regular health insurance. My co-pay for one of the two drugs I need went from $20 to $80. I am dreading buying the other one. It is brand name still.
I don't know what I am supposed to do. Do I not take these meds anymore, which would leave me depressed with lots of continence issues. which in turn would make me less able to work and contribute to the country's economic well-being?
I went there for the eye exan because it is on my insurance. But the signs suggested we run far away from Sears. We should have listened.
We parked at Point A, the curb cut was at Point B 30 feet away. The ramp into the store was back at Point A.
But that's not all. At the optician's office, they had a space heater going.
After the exam, I went to buy some glasses. They had 20 frames to choose from, none of them titanium, which I wanted since I bang my glasses around, and a harried technician.
We left without buying anything, and I noticed Target Optical was also in my network, so we stopped there. What a difference. Selection, plenty of titanium frames and pleasant help.
She rang up the glasses and told me that it would be cheaper to buy without insurance because the generic discount would be better. I wish I could say I was surprised, but my vision insurance is the a joke. That's OK, though. I know it is a joke -- it gets me cheap eye exams mainly -- and its price hasn't changed for several years.
Unlike, say regular health insurance. My co-pay for one of the two drugs I need went from $20 to $80. I am dreading buying the other one. It is brand name still.
I don't know what I am supposed to do. Do I not take these meds anymore, which would leave me depressed with lots of continence issues. which in turn would make me less able to work and contribute to the country's economic well-being?
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Lucky
Sometimes, it is just too hard.
Life. Friedreich's ataxia. Everything.
This week has been one of those times, and it isn't over. I waited for the new year to get glasses because I thought it was one set a year and I bought sunglasses over the summer. I see now it is once every two years, so either wait another year -- not an option -- or suck it up and pay.
But as hard as it has been, there have been clear reasons why I can keep going. And the reasons are certainly not because I found some vast font of grace within me. I am just lucky.
Here is a rundown of my week:
Sunday: I got into the new house only to realize the bathroom is too tight. My brother-in-law has a solution involving barn doors that sounds awesome. But it is aggravating to find that out.
Tuesday: My sister got sick, which is bad for me not only because she entertains me but also because I worry that she infected me.
Also Tuesday, I took Claren for a quick walk and got home and had all of a sudden to be excused. I didn't make it, and it took me twice as long as the walk to get me and the bathroom cleaned.
Claren could not help at all, but God love her, she did her best. She sat on the couch waiting for me, leaving me about 10 inches to squeeze in. She didn't even flinch when I sat; She just dozed right there, as close as possible. I already know she'll help me through anything, but she seemed to be saying to me forcefully: We will get through this.
Wednesday: I went to the bathroom at work and the toilet stopped up on me, almost overflowing as it auto-flushed. I was not ready for it either because what came out of me was not clog-the-toilet worthy. A janitor walked into the bathroom right then and saw the situation as I exited the stall and promised to take care of it.
Thursday: The janitor cleared the clog, but whatever caused it was still in the pipes. It smelled like a dead squirrel had been flushed down the toilet. Needless to say, it is hard to go to the bathroom if you can't breathe. SPOILER ALERT As I hurried out of the stinky stall. I did not buckle my seat belt.
I took Claren out for a walk and decided I would be excused after the walk and would use the lobby bathroom, which doesn't have an auto-door but is pretty private so no one would hear any banging to get in.
While I was out, Claren went to the bathroom and I all of a sudden had to get to a bathroom, too, and I can't use just any grassy area like her. I bent forward to get Claren's poop and just kept going. I had most of the poop in a bag, but I think I rolled on some. I never found it on me, though.
I was stuck for a minute as one arm was pinned under my body. Thankfully, the urge to go went with the fall. Again, Claren thoughtfully just laid down with her back to my back. Finally, I got my arm out and worked my way back to the chair and grabbed my phone.
I called my boss and asked for a younger friend because I didn't want to strain my boss. The younger guy was not at his desk, though, and my boss said he'd come. He did and picked me right up like I was nothing. Claren chose this point to wander off out of site but came wandering back when I called.
Back in the office I was telling a friend who said she was going to make me a spring thing I'd wear on my chest to bounce me back into my chair. She even promised to make it look superhero-y. More importantly, she told me I could call her for help.
Now, on to the glasses place.
Life. Friedreich's ataxia. Everything.
This week has been one of those times, and it isn't over. I waited for the new year to get glasses because I thought it was one set a year and I bought sunglasses over the summer. I see now it is once every two years, so either wait another year -- not an option -- or suck it up and pay.
But as hard as it has been, there have been clear reasons why I can keep going. And the reasons are certainly not because I found some vast font of grace within me. I am just lucky.
Here is a rundown of my week:
Sunday: I got into the new house only to realize the bathroom is too tight. My brother-in-law has a solution involving barn doors that sounds awesome. But it is aggravating to find that out.
Tuesday: My sister got sick, which is bad for me not only because she entertains me but also because I worry that she infected me.
Also Tuesday, I took Claren for a quick walk and got home and had all of a sudden to be excused. I didn't make it, and it took me twice as long as the walk to get me and the bathroom cleaned.
Claren could not help at all, but God love her, she did her best. She sat on the couch waiting for me, leaving me about 10 inches to squeeze in. She didn't even flinch when I sat; She just dozed right there, as close as possible. I already know she'll help me through anything, but she seemed to be saying to me forcefully: We will get through this.
Wednesday: I went to the bathroom at work and the toilet stopped up on me, almost overflowing as it auto-flushed. I was not ready for it either because what came out of me was not clog-the-toilet worthy. A janitor walked into the bathroom right then and saw the situation as I exited the stall and promised to take care of it.
Thursday: The janitor cleared the clog, but whatever caused it was still in the pipes. It smelled like a dead squirrel had been flushed down the toilet. Needless to say, it is hard to go to the bathroom if you can't breathe. SPOILER ALERT As I hurried out of the stinky stall. I did not buckle my seat belt.
I took Claren out for a walk and decided I would be excused after the walk and would use the lobby bathroom, which doesn't have an auto-door but is pretty private so no one would hear any banging to get in.
While I was out, Claren went to the bathroom and I all of a sudden had to get to a bathroom, too, and I can't use just any grassy area like her. I bent forward to get Claren's poop and just kept going. I had most of the poop in a bag, but I think I rolled on some. I never found it on me, though.
I was stuck for a minute as one arm was pinned under my body. Thankfully, the urge to go went with the fall. Again, Claren thoughtfully just laid down with her back to my back. Finally, I got my arm out and worked my way back to the chair and grabbed my phone.
I called my boss and asked for a younger friend because I didn't want to strain my boss. The younger guy was not at his desk, though, and my boss said he'd come. He did and picked me right up like I was nothing. Claren chose this point to wander off out of site but came wandering back when I called.
Back in the office I was telling a friend who said she was going to make me a spring thing I'd wear on my chest to bounce me back into my chair. She even promised to make it look superhero-y. More importantly, she told me I could call her for help.
Now, on to the glasses place.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Matt the dorky adult gets results
Claren's puppy raisers told me she almost didn't graduate because she would not speak. That is still not her favorite thing, but I am surprised she did not flunk out of service dog school because of dof distraction.
Actually she is pretty good about it. In work situations especially.
Elsewhere, she reminds me of the head cheerleader/class president in high school. She is sure that every over dog wants, no, needs, to meet her.
On walks, I make her sit if we see other dogs coming and she is pretty good ... assuming, of course, the other dog is not loose and not able to walk right up to her.
Mom and I had taken the little goofballs on the bike trail, and while they were playing at one of the exercise posts, I saw a dog wandering loose with a group of people.
I told Mom and turned to keep me between the trail and other dog and Claren. I had Claren sit (once she saw the dog, she laid down).
The people and the loose dog came up. I saw one of the people was carrying a leash. The dog wandered around me and smelled Claren, who did break her down but just sniffed back.
One of the people, all college-age or younger, called the dog, and it eventually left Claren alone. Then it was my turn.
Without turning, I yelled, "there are leash laws, folks." Then I spun the wheelchair and said, "Leash your dog."
I wish I could say it felt good. It didn't. I felt like a whiny adult. They just kind of stared, but about 10 yards away, they did stop and put a leash on their dog.
Actually she is pretty good about it. In work situations especially.
Elsewhere, she reminds me of the head cheerleader/class president in high school. She is sure that every over dog wants, no, needs, to meet her.
On walks, I make her sit if we see other dogs coming and she is pretty good ... assuming, of course, the other dog is not loose and not able to walk right up to her.
Mom and I had taken the little goofballs on the bike trail, and while they were playing at one of the exercise posts, I saw a dog wandering loose with a group of people.
I told Mom and turned to keep me between the trail and other dog and Claren. I had Claren sit (once she saw the dog, she laid down).
The people and the loose dog came up. I saw one of the people was carrying a leash. The dog wandered around me and smelled Claren, who did break her down but just sniffed back.
One of the people, all college-age or younger, called the dog, and it eventually left Claren alone. Then it was my turn.
Without turning, I yelled, "there are leash laws, folks." Then I spun the wheelchair and said, "Leash your dog."
I wish I could say it felt good. It didn't. I felt like a whiny adult. They just kind of stared, but about 10 yards away, they did stop and put a leash on their dog.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
