Getting Around in a Wheelchair

Nine days out of ten, I forget I'm even disabled. How can this be? you may ask. Surely, being disabled is such a HUGE fact of life that it should occupy my every waking thought. Not so. Does an Asian person look in the mirror and think, 'Gosh, I'm Asian'? Does a woman marvel at how she's a woman, as opposed to a man?

Of course, it might be very different if you're someone who was born without a disability and has subsequently developed one. It's also a matter of degree, with your level of independence playing a large part in how 'disabled' you feel.

In fact, it's because I pay so little attention to my own disability that some of the most frustrating times in my life are those when I'm forcibly reminded of it by the thoughtlessness and incompetence of others.

I'm talking about the people who, when driving to their local corner shop, park directly in front of the only dropped kerb for 50 meters, thus forcing all wheelchair users (especially electric wheelchair users) to travel that distance along the road, often dodging oncoming traffic, to continue their journey. And, just to rub salt into the wound, as soon as you've finished the detour the #%@$&~} always, inevitably chooses that precise moment to drive away. I'm also, of course, talking about the people who designed the pavement that badly in the first place.

As with the Daleks above, one minute you're rolling along confidently - maybe you're meeting your friend at a restaurant - and the next you're made to feel like a second-class citizen simply because someone didn't think it was worthwhile to install a ramp. That's when the mirror is placed in front of you and it becomes painfully clear that you are different, despite your best efforts to be the same as everyone else. You're left with three options in that situation: struggle to get in without help, if that's even possible; suffer the indignity of asking someone for help, and calling your friend to cancel.

If every pub landlord, shop owner, hotelier and politician in the country was made to live for one week in a wheelchair, things would change quickly. Social mobility would take on a whole new meaning. As it is, it's impossible to put precisely into words how degrading situations such as the one I describe above can be for disabled people

Last January, I was staying at the St Giles Hotel in London and had to park my car in the attached NCP (Adeline Place). If I didn't have a wheelchair, I would never drive to London, but trains are a little awkward and as for the Underground...it'll be another century before that's universally accessible to wheelchair users. Car parks, though generally accessible in my experience, are not my favourite places, but this Adeline Place really pushes the boundaries for stupidity. Quite simply, when it was being built, some genius obviously decided to place the only elevator at the top of not one but two steep steps. As it happened, my family were there to help me on that occasion and I am more than capable of hopping out of my chair and ascending a couple of steps, but there are so many disabled people for whom this hurdle would have been too great.

If only it was a problem unique to Britain. Another time, I was crossing the Seine in Paris (possibly my favourite city in the world), when I realised with disgust that the bridge I had had the misfortune of getting on was only wheelchair accessible at one end - the other had a flight of stairs. It took me half an our to retrace my steps, find a new bridge, and finally cross the river. That's half an hour of my life I would very much like back.

Disabled people don't expect miracles. We know that the modern world isn't really modern at all but rather a culmination of centuries of old architecture and even older attitudes. I imagine that Shakespeare would feel more at home walking around twenty-first century London than I do - at least he could physically do it.

We know that we're a minority and that life's not fair, but would it have been so hard for the Parisian authorities to erect some sort of sign on the bridge indicating the flight of stairs? Could not a simple wooden ramp have been placed over those steps in the NCP? A little common sense really can go a long way.

I have a feeling that I'll be returning to this issue again soon.