Last week I ended my therapy sessions on Friday evening, hobbled down the stairs outside my office, and looked forward to heading home and crashing…
Only to find that someone had touched and moved my rollator. It really upset me.
I was coming out of one of the worst psoriatic arthritis flares I’ve had in a long time. I was exhausted and having trouble moving. And now I had to go back up the stairs with my work bag, medical supply bag, purse, etc. (because I don’t feel comfortable leaving them unattended in my office building) to get my cleaning supplies. Because we’re in a pandemic and all of my medical conditions put me at higher risk, I need to take every precaution necessary.
After several trips up and down the stairs, my rollator was completely disinfected, and I was ready to start the long walk (for me) to my car to end my work week. But the level of upset I still felt surprised me. It was more than the use of my time and energy or possible Covid exposure. And I realized…
I felt violated.
Let me first explain why I park my rollator in the hallway of my office building. My office suite is on the 3rd floor of the building. It’s an old building and because of the layout, the elevator can only go up to the 2nd floor. And it’s quite a long stairway up to my office. I park my rollator at the bottom of the stairs, and up until now people have been really respectful and have left it alone.
Before you ask (lol) – I signed my office suite lease 13 years ago before being disabled was even on my radar. And sadly also before the accessibility needs of the disabled community was on my radar (of which I am now acutely aware – more on that in a later blog post). Ableism is a real thing, and I was very guilty too. Thankfully, after a long hunt for another perfectly laid out space, I just signed a lease for an accessible first floor office suite in the same building! Woohoo!
Anyways… Back to feeling violated. Mobility devices are crucial for the people using them. My rollator and my arm crutch are the only ways I can get myself and all the supplies I need for work to and from my car. They are a necessity, not a luxury. And each person, if financially able, chooses their specific aids to meet their specific needs. I have an arm crutch because a simple cane was aggravating my hands, wrists, and shoulders too much. I purchased the specific rollator I have because of its comfy seat and seat backing (for my painful si joints and lumbar spine), its storage space, and its ability to carry my work bags.
Mobility devices are very expensive, especially ones that are specified for an individual’s personal needs. And because of the limits of insurance coverage, most people have to pay out of pocket for their mobility aids (more on that too probably in a later blog post).
Two summer ago (pre-Covid) my family went to Hershey Park. The accessibility program there is fantastic! But, for one of the rides I had to park my rollator and use my arm crutch to enter the ride area and wait for the next car. I watched helplessly as a small child played roughly with my rollator. I wasn’t upset with the child – they saw a “fun toy” and wanted to play with it. The upsetting part was the mother looking on and saying and doing nothing. Giving the child permission to use my expensive mobility device. Not ok. Breaking it would not only cost me a lot of my own money but would also keep me from being able to get around the park and future places with my family.
Kids are curious. One of my sweet little clients once picked up my arm crutch and started using it in his play therapy session. I think it was a light saber, and he was battling Kylo Ren. It was an innocent mistake. I didn’t shame him or discipline him. I used it as an opportunity to educate him about disability etiquette and the importance of respecting disabled people’s mobility devices.
Also, many view their mobility devices as an extension of their body. This is especially true for full-time wheelchair users. When you move a person’s wheelchair without their permission (especially when they are sitting in it), it’s equivalent to pushing an able bodied person out of your way.
For me, moving my rollator without my permission is equivalent to taking my car for a spin without my permission; playing on my iPhone without my permission; hacking into my bank accounts without permission; etc. etc. You get the picture. It’s violating.
No one wants to be violated, especially during a pandemic. So now I have a Do Not Touch sign on it in the hopes that it won’t be moved again. Please never touch another person’s mobility device without their permission.