Recently in Social Interaction Category
The other night, I saw a woman in a wheelchair and her boyfriend/husband strolling down Michigan Avenue hand-in-hand. They were perfectly in sync. He held her right hand, comfortably tugging her along. And she kept her left at the wheel to steer. I smiled, impressed by their practiced technique, and they nodded back in acknowledgement.
The brief exchange reminded me of a conversation I had ages ago with a friend about unwritten “rules of the road.” She drives a Jeep, and every time she sees another one, she and the other driver exchange friendly waves as they size up each other’s vehicles. She explained to me that this behavior is so common among Jeep owners that it might as well be printed in the car’s instruction manual.
Since having that conversation, I’ve made a concerted effort to smile and nod at every person in a wheelchair I pass, and I’ve given a lot of thought to the wheelchair rules of the road. These are the most amusing tips for walkies I’ve found on the net, and Wikipedia's guide to disability etiquette is extremely useful too (Thanks Karen!).
On a first date, simply walking down the street with me is often a challenge for the man I’m with. That’s because he doesn’t know what to do. Should he push me? Or just walk beside me? Should he ask which I prefer? And what about holding hands? That’s pretty much out. What happens when I’m pushing myself up a hill? Should he help me then?
Unfortunately, there are no easy answers to questions like these. I wish there was a rulebook. I’d read it! The best I can offer is that the answers depend on the situation and on the rapport I have with the guy in question.
Lately though, I’ve noticed something interesting. When I’m with my closest friends, regardless of whether they’re male or female, our movements are in sync. We have no trouble matching each other’s pace. There are no questions. They know just when to give me a hand or ask if I need one. And Y even walks along next to me with her hand on one of my wheelchair handlebars. I’ve always seen this as the equivalent of linking arms, and it made me smile the first time I noticed her doing it.
This “pacing” happens effortlessly now. Is it because of a heightened awareness on all of our parts? Or does it stem from spending a lot of time together? Probably a little bit of both. It’s just nice to know it’s possible.
I got in line at Dunkin Doughnuts for my morning caffeine jolt, and the construction worker in front of me stepped back graciously, waving me ahead of him.
“Oh no, that’s okay,” I said. “You were here first.”
“I’m in no hurry,” he replied with a friendly smile. “After you.”
Thanking him, I wheeled forward and placed my order. But I have to admit that the situation made me feel a little strange. It would have been one thing if he had gotten to the line at the same time I did. In that case, letting me go first would have been a chivalrous gesture. But he was already in line when I got there.
This sort of thing happens to me a lot, and I never know what it is that motivates complete strangers to randomly offer me a better spot in line or help with something I obviously already have under control. Whatever drives them, I find these folks feel more at ease when I take them up on their offer, whether I really need to or not.
