Separate but equal? Or perhaps I could call this blog Another Side of the Seating Problem
There is one place I like to go to that has a wine shop downstairs, and a restaurant upstairs. There is no elevator. Most often we go to the wine tastings, which are downstairs, but sometimes I like to attend a wine tasting meal or just get dinner, which ordinarily would be upstairs. Their way of accommodating me is to set up a table downstairs in the private salon for however many are in my party. I don’t go to the restaurant upstairs.
I have trouble with this arrangement. It feels more like “separate but unequal” to me than “separate but equal”. The salon is a nice room, even their warehouse where they set up a table once in a while is ok. It isn’t the setting that bugs me. It isn’t the service either. By being in the salon, I’m really getting first class service as opposed to the usual coach. Once in a while they are a bit slow to come down to tend to us, but it’s rare, and if something happens (like a spilled glass of wine) we (meaning someone other than me) have to go upstairs to find help. But overall, the service is excellent.
In fact, recently we went to a wine lunch at this establishment on a Saturday with 2 other couples. One of the men is a very good customer at both the restaurant and the wine shop (he even has a wine locker there), and it happened to be his birthday. So, that day we got absolutely the best service you could imagine. We had the private room, because of me, and some special treats, because of him. I had called to make the reservation, and mentioned his birthday and that it would be nice to have a cake for dessert. They came up with the best carrot cake I have ever eaten in my life. I think they spoiled me, for I haven’t been able to eat any other carrot cake since –they are all too cream-cheesy or too sweet now. If he had been with other people he would have been upstairs.
Uniformly, everyone tells me things are much nicer when they are with me, because they can be in the salon! It’s more private, or it’s quieter. Setting is nicer, service more personal…. And I’m pleased to hear all of this. But all the same, I find it hard. It’s because I don’t have a choice in the matter. And if there’s any day when the salon is not available for any reason, I’m stuck – and most likely will not attend the event scheduled upstairs. These has happened a few times, one time when they were using the salon room for storage, which made me quite annoyed. I brush it off then, that they just don’t want my business bad enough. If this happened too often, I’d not go there at all.
I suspect that in a pinch, they will muster up the men required to carry me and my chair upstairs, but I hate to be carried. I don’t like the feeling in general, and unless there are 4 men and an easy stairway, I worry about the backs of the men doing the carrying. 4 men means an average of 50 pounds a person carrying an awkward package, which isn’t easy, but not crazy either. Any fewer people, means too much weight per person.
One day I know there will be a wine dinner, with a guest speaker – most typically the winery owner or winemaker – and the only way to hear them speak will be to be upstairs. If I really want to go, I’ll find out how hard carrying me will be. I’ve been tempted a few times, but none of the events has worked out to date.
Wine collecting is a hobby of Jim and me. We have about 450 bottles or so, most of which are aging in temperature controlled fridges. In the past 5 years we’ve learned a lot about wine, and enjoy visiting wineries and going to tastings. We keep a spreadsheet of all the bottles, with stats like price, varietals, regions they are from and when to drink them. Our system isn’t working perfectly yet, because we tend to drink more whites than reds, but buy more reds than whites. We buy cabernets because they age well, but don’t eat the red meat that goes best with them very often. Consequently we have about 20 reds in the fridge that should have been drunk in 2009. But overall, we have a good time with our wine. We throw wine parties from time to time, and invite our friends over. And we like restaurants that have wine dinners, especially if they pour them blind, or have small pours of several wines.
I find this to be one of those hard situations to reconcile. I want to fight for equal access, the ability to do what everyone else does. And yet, I am aware that what I’m getting now is probably better. So, I let it go. I have made the wine shop/ restaurant aware of how I feel about all this, but not in a very pushy way – (well I was pushy about them fixing their parking lot at one point, when they didn’t have properly painted access areas). I don’t know if a law is being broken or not. The argument the shop gives is that they are renters, so it’s really the landlord’s problem. The building was built pre-ADA, so they aren’t required to make accessible modifications unless they spend past a certain amount of money on remodeling. Plus the cost of an elevator would be prohibitive, which might exempt them from doing the accessible modifications anyway. All this sounds true to me, from my limited knowledge of ADAAG.
All the same, I have fantasized about having a dozen people in wheelchairs try to attend an upstairs event all on one day. What a madhouse it would be then!
I know the people in both the shop and restaurant, and like them. They treat me well, too well perhaps. We’re good customers, but not in their top tier for sure! Most days I just relax and enjoy whatever we are attending and don’t worry about the special service. But this is one of those events where others looking in might wonder why our party is in the private room, and if the staff says it’s because of the wheelchair, then it would generate negative feelings about people with disabilities getting privileged treatment. And those people won’t have any idea about how I feel about it, and that I’d rather not get the private room. Does this balance out being in the back room at the theater? No. They both should be better.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
A Bladder Story
I don’t feel very well today. Hard to describe what’s wrong. It’s such a vague feeling. But this is how it is sometimes when you are paralyzed from chest down. The sensations are odd, you know you don’t quite feel right, but it’s hard to put together right away.
Let’s see – for a couple of days last week I didn’t feel like eating at all. I know Wednesday was one of those days, where I just couldn’t make myself eat lunch. Thursday I made myself get a Bullet sandwich from Quiznos – the smallest size – because I know I should eat, but I wasn’t hungry. Friday and Saturday were better, but today again, I’m not hungry. No, the words should be stronger – I don’t want to eat at all, and it’s an effort to do so. But, I’m not nauseous, or feeling really sick.
2 days ago, I noticed the clear tubing that runs from catheter to legbag was showing some sediment – so yesterday I changed all my tubing. It’s a little early in the month, but not out of the ordinary. Perhaps I have an infection – so first line of attack is to change tubing. Then drink lots of fluids. My stomach hole (stoma? I really should find out the technical word for that hole punched in my abdomen) bled a bit when I pulled the old catheter out. That isn’t unusual, the urine irritates the tissues it passes through, and the movement of the catheter can scratch as well. Usually the bleeding only lasts a minute, and then clots up.
This time though, while I was in the shower I could see much more blood coming out. Another sign of possible infection. It reminded me of an incident that happened in the 1980s.
At that time I was intermittent cathing every few hours. I woke up at night, knowing I should get up to empty my bladder. I don’t remember how I knew – perhaps I had leaked in the bed, or perhaps I was having a dysreflexia reaction. But it was 5 in the morning, and I got up to pee. What came out of me looked like flat coca-cola! It was urine, but was a dark brown color –and scared me to death! I called the urologist’s office right away. My regular urologist was not on call that night, but I knew the doctor on call too. He advised me to come in first thing in the morning.
I couldn’t go back to bed. There was no way I was going to sleep. About an hour later, now around 6 AM, I cathed again. This time the stuff that came out of me was blood, and some of it was coagulating. I was sure I was bleeding to death in my bladder, and panicked. Called the doctor again, who was not too happy about my waking him up, but he calmed me down saying that I wasn’t bleeding to death, but that I should be at the office when it opened.
I was grateful that my regular urologist was actually in the office when I got there. I’m sure they thought I was exaggerating the situation. They put me up on the table, put a scope into my bladder, and that immediately let out a torrent of blood all over the room. It was like an explosion – blood all over everyone’s clothes, the floor….
My husband at the time, Ranjan, was with me and was instructed to push me over to the nearest hospital – about 2 blocks away – and get me admitted immediately. The urologist would be there shortly, and take me into ER. They had to go inside and cauterize the bleeding.
It was a scary experience all around. But the scariest part was actually post surgery. Now, I can say I was probably hallucinating, but who knew at the time! I woke up in recovery, and there was a man in the bed next to me, and I thought he had said that the doctor had just visited me, and was so sorry to hear I had bladder cancer. It wasn’t till a couple of hours later when I really did see my doctor, and most likely was less groggy, that I learned I was really ok.
Their theory was that I had a bladder infection that irritated an artery in the bladder enough that it couldn’t clot – not rare, but not common either. I was in the hospital overnight. And then everything was back to normal.
So, every now and then, when I change my tubing, I think about that event. This was one of them. While I was in the shower, before putting in the new tubing, the hole continued to bleed, and I was watching. I put in the new catheter, still a little blood. I wanted to get dressed, but was afraid that the activity would make it bleed more, and make it harder for me to see, as well as get blood on my clothes. On the other hand, I wasn’t going to be sitting still enough to let a clot have time to set, until after I got dressed! So, I put Neosporin around the catheter, and stuffed some Kleenex around the hole, and got dressed. Half an hour later I took out the Kleenex, and was relieved that the bleeding had stopped.
But all of this, and my not feeling like eating, does make me wonder if I have a bladder infection. I have no fever, no pain, none of the signs that people with sensation would pick up. I am drowning my body in water, washing my insides out. So, we’ll see. If I still feel this way tomorrow, I’ll start antibiotics.
The point of my story though – is that when you do not have full sensation in your body, you have to learn to notice other more subtle signs. And sometimes it isn’t so easy to interpret these signs. It’s possible I have some mild stomach bug. It’s possible that I have some annoying things (like seeds or nuts) working their way through my intestines that is triggering a mild IBS reaction, totally unrelated to my bladder. Or maybe I have something more serious – an ulcer, or bladder cancer! But my money is on a bladder infection. So, for now, an easy diet, lots of water, and waiting and watching. If tomorrow I start antibiotics, and that doesn’t make me feel better by Thursday, I’m off to my GP’s.
Let’s see – for a couple of days last week I didn’t feel like eating at all. I know Wednesday was one of those days, where I just couldn’t make myself eat lunch. Thursday I made myself get a Bullet sandwich from Quiznos – the smallest size – because I know I should eat, but I wasn’t hungry. Friday and Saturday were better, but today again, I’m not hungry. No, the words should be stronger – I don’t want to eat at all, and it’s an effort to do so. But, I’m not nauseous, or feeling really sick.
2 days ago, I noticed the clear tubing that runs from catheter to legbag was showing some sediment – so yesterday I changed all my tubing. It’s a little early in the month, but not out of the ordinary. Perhaps I have an infection – so first line of attack is to change tubing. Then drink lots of fluids. My stomach hole (stoma? I really should find out the technical word for that hole punched in my abdomen) bled a bit when I pulled the old catheter out. That isn’t unusual, the urine irritates the tissues it passes through, and the movement of the catheter can scratch as well. Usually the bleeding only lasts a minute, and then clots up.
This time though, while I was in the shower I could see much more blood coming out. Another sign of possible infection. It reminded me of an incident that happened in the 1980s.
At that time I was intermittent cathing every few hours. I woke up at night, knowing I should get up to empty my bladder. I don’t remember how I knew – perhaps I had leaked in the bed, or perhaps I was having a dysreflexia reaction. But it was 5 in the morning, and I got up to pee. What came out of me looked like flat coca-cola! It was urine, but was a dark brown color –and scared me to death! I called the urologist’s office right away. My regular urologist was not on call that night, but I knew the doctor on call too. He advised me to come in first thing in the morning.
I couldn’t go back to bed. There was no way I was going to sleep. About an hour later, now around 6 AM, I cathed again. This time the stuff that came out of me was blood, and some of it was coagulating. I was sure I was bleeding to death in my bladder, and panicked. Called the doctor again, who was not too happy about my waking him up, but he calmed me down saying that I wasn’t bleeding to death, but that I should be at the office when it opened.
I was grateful that my regular urologist was actually in the office when I got there. I’m sure they thought I was exaggerating the situation. They put me up on the table, put a scope into my bladder, and that immediately let out a torrent of blood all over the room. It was like an explosion – blood all over everyone’s clothes, the floor….
My husband at the time, Ranjan, was with me and was instructed to push me over to the nearest hospital – about 2 blocks away – and get me admitted immediately. The urologist would be there shortly, and take me into ER. They had to go inside and cauterize the bleeding.
It was a scary experience all around. But the scariest part was actually post surgery. Now, I can say I was probably hallucinating, but who knew at the time! I woke up in recovery, and there was a man in the bed next to me, and I thought he had said that the doctor had just visited me, and was so sorry to hear I had bladder cancer. It wasn’t till a couple of hours later when I really did see my doctor, and most likely was less groggy, that I learned I was really ok.
Their theory was that I had a bladder infection that irritated an artery in the bladder enough that it couldn’t clot – not rare, but not common either. I was in the hospital overnight. And then everything was back to normal.
So, every now and then, when I change my tubing, I think about that event. This was one of them. While I was in the shower, before putting in the new tubing, the hole continued to bleed, and I was watching. I put in the new catheter, still a little blood. I wanted to get dressed, but was afraid that the activity would make it bleed more, and make it harder for me to see, as well as get blood on my clothes. On the other hand, I wasn’t going to be sitting still enough to let a clot have time to set, until after I got dressed! So, I put Neosporin around the catheter, and stuffed some Kleenex around the hole, and got dressed. Half an hour later I took out the Kleenex, and was relieved that the bleeding had stopped.
But all of this, and my not feeling like eating, does make me wonder if I have a bladder infection. I have no fever, no pain, none of the signs that people with sensation would pick up. I am drowning my body in water, washing my insides out. So, we’ll see. If I still feel this way tomorrow, I’ll start antibiotics.
The point of my story though – is that when you do not have full sensation in your body, you have to learn to notice other more subtle signs. And sometimes it isn’t so easy to interpret these signs. It’s possible I have some mild stomach bug. It’s possible that I have some annoying things (like seeds or nuts) working their way through my intestines that is triggering a mild IBS reaction, totally unrelated to my bladder. Or maybe I have something more serious – an ulcer, or bladder cancer! But my money is on a bladder infection. So, for now, an easy diet, lots of water, and waiting and watching. If tomorrow I start antibiotics, and that doesn’t make me feel better by Thursday, I’m off to my GP’s.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Shopping
It takes 2 of us to give Jasper his medicine twice a day – one to hold him, one to do the syringe into his mouth (and his pill too in the evening). So, for the next week, I have to get up the same time as Jim. I usually go to bed at the same time, but get up an hour later – since it takes me a while to fall asleep, I compensate by sleeping extra in the morning. This coming week I might try to go to bed earlier, but then when Jim goes to bed I’ll wake up, so it’s almost self- defeating. I think what’s going to happen is that for the next week, I’m going to get 1 – 1 ½ hours less sleep a night than I want, going to bed and getting up at the same time as Jim. I wish I could fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow like he can!
The good news is that my new electric blanket arrived today, so at least I’ll be warm as I try to fall asleep.
What’s been troubling me today, and no doubt will be the source of my brain chatter tonight (as it was last night while I couldn’t sleep) is that bank check problem. I’m still not convinced it was fraud. I have people’s names and phone numbers that match legitimate businesses and info on their websites. This morning I found that Jim has some new lost funds being held by the CA Treasury under his misspelled name and from that same old employer! So, either that’s how the scammers got our info, or his employer had his name misspelled for some fund, which is why things got lost in the first place. Tomorrow morning I am going to get someone from the banks on the check to help resolve this once and for all.
Cats are doing well. Jasper must have been in a lot of pain. I’m sure his jaw still hurts, but it must be better in comparison to before. He came back for 3rds at dinnertime today, so at least he’s eating again. Fforde hasn’t forgiven us yet for taking him to the vet. He won’t let me pet him, though he has jumped on my lap. The minute my hands come out he shoots away, needless to say I don’t have his collar on him yet. And he’s even worse with Jim, won’t get within 3 feet of Jim!
No word yet when my chair will arrive. I may find out next week an estimated ETA.
I have been enjoying reading The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest by Stieg Larsson, and if I could I’d just read it all the way through! But there’s no hurry. I love to read, and I think it’s a form of therapy for me too. If I don’t get an hour a day of reading, or sometimes watching a DVD, to escape into some fantasy world, then I get cranky. Other people need their exercise. I suspect my son, Stephen, gets cranky when he goes a few days without riding his bike. Jim needs time to himself to play games on his computer, especially an online chess game. Both of these are more healthy than my reading I’m sure. Stephen gets a very good physical workout, Jim get’s a good mental one. Me? I’m just relaxing and escaping.
I occasionally read in bed, like this past week with no electric blanket it helped to warm up the bed and elevate my legs to get the blood flowing for an hour before attempting to sleep. It’s not as comfortable to do as it used to be though. My neck will hurt after a while, and I have to use full reading glasses and not my bifocals. I’m very protective of my neck now so that the vertigo problems don’t come back.
I had PT today, and we suspect that my new pillow is not quite as good as I thought – just a tad too high. My neck was tight on the right, probably from the pillow pushing my head up a little too much. But overall she thought I was doing well, so I don’t have to go back for 3 weeks. Yay! I like her a lot, but would rather spend my time in other ways.
A project I’ve been spending a lot of time on is getting some photos framed. Jim and I looked through all the photos of all our trips in the past few years (which took a couple of evenings) and picked out about 30 of our favorite photos to enlarge. We’ve been to Canada (Montreal, Quebec, Vancouver), France (Paris and the Loire Valley), Italy (Milan, Venice, Tuscany and Florence, Bellagio), Switzerland (our honeymoon - ahhh, Lugano, Zurich, Interlachen, Lucerne), a couple of US trips (northern CA, Oregon) and 4 cruises (Alaska, Panama Canal/ Mexico/ Central America and Antarctica) and I almost forgot – Argentina twice. So, it was a lot of photos, and hard to get it down to 30! I had 8 x 10s made of all of them, and some came out really nice. One of Hawaii (I forgot to add Hawaii) taken from a helicopter of lava going into the ocean is very cool, and I want to make it poster size. One more I’ll do again in 11 x 14. But most are perfect as 8 x 10s. So the past few days in between appointments, since I’ve been in the right neighborhood, I’ve been frame shopping. It’s nice to spiff up the house.
This kind of shopping brings to mind one topic I thought worth mentioning, related to my disability - Carrying stuff to the car for you. I’ve noticed that in the past few years the supermarkets all ask everyone, no matter who they are, if they need help out to the car. I’m sure this is to avoid any suggestion of profiling. Probably someone someplace was offended that they were asked specifically because of their appearance, or else someone who needed help found it hard to get because they don’t look disabled. I think it’s a good policy, and harms no one, to ask everyone, so I applaud the change. If I’m only getting 2 bags worth I say no, otherwise I usually take the help. At home I have to carry the bags into the house one at a time, but I’m not in a hurry. Most times if it’s a large grocery run Jim goes too.
At Aaron Bros today I bought a pile of frames, and they were very willing to help carry them out, no problem. In fact, I rarely have a problem, except for one store – my neighborhood Target store. I don’t know what it is, because it seems like there are employees everywhere in that store. I get to checkout with a cart of stuff, and I’m ok pushing a cart inside on smooth floors. But there’s never anyone around who will push the cart out to the parking lot . Grocery stores have baggers. In other stores, like Aaron Bros or even shops at larger malls, the checker themselves just gets up and takes stuff out. But at Target, the checker isn’t allowed to do this. They push the call light and get on their phone to the loudspeaker that customer assistance is needed for carry out, and then they get on with the next person in line. And I sit and wait, and wait. Often it takes 2 or 3 requests over the loud speaker. One time the wait was 15 minutes. In fact usually the person who eventually helps me is a supervisor who is taking pity on me sitting there so long, and most often they say they are happy they get to go outside for a few minutes, being generally very gracious about it all. The next time I go into Target though, my plan is to start with saying hi to the manager and telling them that I’m buying large items (toilet paper, laundry detergent and paper towels) and will need help out, and then say that if someone doesn’t come when signaled within 3 minutes then I’ll just return the whole pile. What is reasonable – 3 minutes? If you sit at a traffic light, one you think is really slow and taking forever, and then you time it – you’ll find it’s less than 3 minutes. In fact I did some minimal online research and most people can’t stand more than 2 minutes. There was one site for bikers, whose bikes aren’t heavy enough to trigger light changes, asking how long it’s reasonable to sit there before going through.
I don’t have a problem asking for help, at least for simple things like carrying packages and holding doors. I will carry everything if I can, and only ask when I’m buying more than that, so I’m not abusing the service. And I don’t buy so much that I have to rely on neighbors at home. Either I carry it all in, slowly, or wait for Jim to be home. I once had trouble with asking for help though. I think it’s a stage you go through for a while right after injury, as you are learning your limitations. You get this “damned if I’m going to change my whole life just because of this stupid wheelchair” kind of attitude. And though it seems ridiculous to put yourself through that, in retrospect, that attitude is probably needed. It’s how you learn your limitations, through failure – when you drop that grocery bag in the parking lot and break a bottle of olive oil or wine or a dozen eggs (I’ve done all three).
The good news is that my new electric blanket arrived today, so at least I’ll be warm as I try to fall asleep.
What’s been troubling me today, and no doubt will be the source of my brain chatter tonight (as it was last night while I couldn’t sleep) is that bank check problem. I’m still not convinced it was fraud. I have people’s names and phone numbers that match legitimate businesses and info on their websites. This morning I found that Jim has some new lost funds being held by the CA Treasury under his misspelled name and from that same old employer! So, either that’s how the scammers got our info, or his employer had his name misspelled for some fund, which is why things got lost in the first place. Tomorrow morning I am going to get someone from the banks on the check to help resolve this once and for all.
Cats are doing well. Jasper must have been in a lot of pain. I’m sure his jaw still hurts, but it must be better in comparison to before. He came back for 3rds at dinnertime today, so at least he’s eating again. Fforde hasn’t forgiven us yet for taking him to the vet. He won’t let me pet him, though he has jumped on my lap. The minute my hands come out he shoots away, needless to say I don’t have his collar on him yet. And he’s even worse with Jim, won’t get within 3 feet of Jim!
No word yet when my chair will arrive. I may find out next week an estimated ETA.
I have been enjoying reading The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest by Stieg Larsson, and if I could I’d just read it all the way through! But there’s no hurry. I love to read, and I think it’s a form of therapy for me too. If I don’t get an hour a day of reading, or sometimes watching a DVD, to escape into some fantasy world, then I get cranky. Other people need their exercise. I suspect my son, Stephen, gets cranky when he goes a few days without riding his bike. Jim needs time to himself to play games on his computer, especially an online chess game. Both of these are more healthy than my reading I’m sure. Stephen gets a very good physical workout, Jim get’s a good mental one. Me? I’m just relaxing and escaping.
I occasionally read in bed, like this past week with no electric blanket it helped to warm up the bed and elevate my legs to get the blood flowing for an hour before attempting to sleep. It’s not as comfortable to do as it used to be though. My neck will hurt after a while, and I have to use full reading glasses and not my bifocals. I’m very protective of my neck now so that the vertigo problems don’t come back.
I had PT today, and we suspect that my new pillow is not quite as good as I thought – just a tad too high. My neck was tight on the right, probably from the pillow pushing my head up a little too much. But overall she thought I was doing well, so I don’t have to go back for 3 weeks. Yay! I like her a lot, but would rather spend my time in other ways.
A project I’ve been spending a lot of time on is getting some photos framed. Jim and I looked through all the photos of all our trips in the past few years (which took a couple of evenings) and picked out about 30 of our favorite photos to enlarge. We’ve been to Canada (Montreal, Quebec, Vancouver), France (Paris and the Loire Valley), Italy (Milan, Venice, Tuscany and Florence, Bellagio), Switzerland (our honeymoon - ahhh, Lugano, Zurich, Interlachen, Lucerne), a couple of US trips (northern CA, Oregon) and 4 cruises (Alaska, Panama Canal/ Mexico/ Central America and Antarctica) and I almost forgot – Argentina twice. So, it was a lot of photos, and hard to get it down to 30! I had 8 x 10s made of all of them, and some came out really nice. One of Hawaii (I forgot to add Hawaii) taken from a helicopter of lava going into the ocean is very cool, and I want to make it poster size. One more I’ll do again in 11 x 14. But most are perfect as 8 x 10s. So the past few days in between appointments, since I’ve been in the right neighborhood, I’ve been frame shopping. It’s nice to spiff up the house.
This kind of shopping brings to mind one topic I thought worth mentioning, related to my disability - Carrying stuff to the car for you. I’ve noticed that in the past few years the supermarkets all ask everyone, no matter who they are, if they need help out to the car. I’m sure this is to avoid any suggestion of profiling. Probably someone someplace was offended that they were asked specifically because of their appearance, or else someone who needed help found it hard to get because they don’t look disabled. I think it’s a good policy, and harms no one, to ask everyone, so I applaud the change. If I’m only getting 2 bags worth I say no, otherwise I usually take the help. At home I have to carry the bags into the house one at a time, but I’m not in a hurry. Most times if it’s a large grocery run Jim goes too.
At Aaron Bros today I bought a pile of frames, and they were very willing to help carry them out, no problem. In fact, I rarely have a problem, except for one store – my neighborhood Target store. I don’t know what it is, because it seems like there are employees everywhere in that store. I get to checkout with a cart of stuff, and I’m ok pushing a cart inside on smooth floors. But there’s never anyone around who will push the cart out to the parking lot . Grocery stores have baggers. In other stores, like Aaron Bros or even shops at larger malls, the checker themselves just gets up and takes stuff out. But at Target, the checker isn’t allowed to do this. They push the call light and get on their phone to the loudspeaker that customer assistance is needed for carry out, and then they get on with the next person in line. And I sit and wait, and wait. Often it takes 2 or 3 requests over the loud speaker. One time the wait was 15 minutes. In fact usually the person who eventually helps me is a supervisor who is taking pity on me sitting there so long, and most often they say they are happy they get to go outside for a few minutes, being generally very gracious about it all. The next time I go into Target though, my plan is to start with saying hi to the manager and telling them that I’m buying large items (toilet paper, laundry detergent and paper towels) and will need help out, and then say that if someone doesn’t come when signaled within 3 minutes then I’ll just return the whole pile. What is reasonable – 3 minutes? If you sit at a traffic light, one you think is really slow and taking forever, and then you time it – you’ll find it’s less than 3 minutes. In fact I did some minimal online research and most people can’t stand more than 2 minutes. There was one site for bikers, whose bikes aren’t heavy enough to trigger light changes, asking how long it’s reasonable to sit there before going through.
I don’t have a problem asking for help, at least for simple things like carrying packages and holding doors. I will carry everything if I can, and only ask when I’m buying more than that, so I’m not abusing the service. And I don’t buy so much that I have to rely on neighbors at home. Either I carry it all in, slowly, or wait for Jim to be home. I once had trouble with asking for help though. I think it’s a stage you go through for a while right after injury, as you are learning your limitations. You get this “damned if I’m going to change my whole life just because of this stupid wheelchair” kind of attitude. And though it seems ridiculous to put yourself through that, in retrospect, that attitude is probably needed. It’s how you learn your limitations, through failure – when you drop that grocery bag in the parking lot and break a bottle of olive oil or wine or a dozen eggs (I’ve done all three).
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