Recently in The Rules 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!).

I took a taxi to work this morning. A wonderful indulgence! During the ride, I had a chance to think about a number of the Chicago transportation tricks I've learned.

Here are my top ten for taxis, buses, and trains (in no particular order):

10. Ask an able-bodied person (preferably a female person) to hail a cab for you if they're passing you by. Some cabbies just don't like to get out of the car to help fold a wheelchair, and this can be especially true in bad weather. Like it or not, sometimes it's most expedient to lurk in the background and let a pretty able-bodied girl do the hailing.

9. Tip well… even if your cabbie is a little uncertain about dealing with a wheelchair. If you tip well consistently, you'll eventually earn a reputation in the neighborhood for being a good tipper. Cabbies remember that. And the next time they see you, they'll stop. Guaranteed.

8. Do whatever it takes to get out of the car immediately if a cab driver mishandles your wheelchair, doesn't respect your personal space, or says you look like Melissa Gilbert and he’s in love with you.

7. Hail a cab going north during morning rush hour and south during evening rush hour. I'm not sure why, but I always have better luck when I do that.

6. Plan to take the bus either a little earlier or a little later than rush hour commuters. That way there will most likely be space for a wheelchair on the bus.

5. If the bus is crowded, and a person in a wheelchair needs to get on, let them get on first. If the bus is empty, it’s easier for everyone else to board before the wheelchair passenger.

4. If you’re riding the bus with a friend in a wheelchair always let her/him get on the bus first to ensure that the wheelchair lift is working.

3. Call the RTA before taking the train to ensure that all of the elevators are working at the train stations where you’ll be. Riding escalators in a wheelchair is a last resort!

2. If you’re taking a route you’ve never taken before, take a cell phone with you. Occasionally, the accessible CTA stops aren’t as accessible as they should be. One time I was stranded on a median in the middle of the street with no curb cut. I was glad I had my phone with me.

1. Leave extra travel time. Most days a few taxis, buses and trains will pass you by. So be prepared. And be nice to the drivers who do stop.

Have tips of your own? Leave a comment and tell me about them.

As Tammy and I joined the throng of tourists crawling the Las Vegas strip one night last week, we got separated. That’s because T’s camera is a natural extension of her hand, and when something strikes her, she lags behind to capture it. I usually push ahead, and she catches up with me.

I was crossing the street when someone started to push me. I automatically took my hands off my wheels, relinquishing control, but only for a second. Because almost immediately I realized that it was a stranger who was pushing me around.

Before I could twist in my seat to double check, I heard T descend.

“HEY!” she said, glaring down at the little Chinese man gripping my handlebars. “Let go of her. NOW!”

My pusher gave her a trembling look, let me go, and scurried ahead of us, discussing the situation in a harried, high-pitched tone with his travel companions.

“I think he’s scared of me,” T said, as he glanced warily over his shoulder at us and walked a little faster.

I smirked.

“I think he should be.”

“You want a push?” she asked.

“No, I’m good. Thanks.”

The lesson here? Never come up behind a person in a wheelchair and start to push them without asking their permission. It can be scary to have a stranger I can’t see take control, even if they’re just trying to help. My wheelchair is an extension of my body, so giving me a shove without asking first is essentially the same thing as randomly taking T’s camera out of her hands and snapping a few shots of your own because it sounds like a good idea. Something tells me she wouldn’t like that.

Tammy and I are going to Manhattan this weekend, and I can’t wait! New York is one of my favorite places to visit, and I enjoy traveling in general.

To prep for the trip, I decided to read this disability blog carnival called “On Holiday,” which is all about traveling. I’m kind of surprised how many of the entries focus on disability-related challenges.

I’ve certainly faced some of the issues mentioned. My wheelchair has been damaged by the airlines, I’ve stayed in inaccessible hotel rooms, and I’ve even been left behind on a tour or two. Not fun. But these snags don’t stop me from traveling. They don’t even dominate my travel experiences. The fact that I travel in a wheelchair takes a back seat to having a great time on the journey.

That’s because I do a number of things to make traveling easier for myself. I always check in at the gate to get early boarding on the airplane, and I keep my wheelchair cushion with me because it would be easy to lose it in the cargo hold. I take direct flights so that I don’t have to worry about my wheels not making it from one plane to the next during a layover. And my friends and I do advance research on accessibility. Not to mention that we take advantage of our surroundings along the way. Did you know that some of the airline folks will let you sit on the bag scale to weigh yourself? Caryn suggested I try that on a trip we took, and we discovered that it’s a great way to weigh-in without having to stand up (if you really want to know how much you weigh).

But out of everything I’ve learned about traveling, I think the key to having a good time involves successfully managing expectations. For me that means several things.

It means I have to talk about what I want out of a trip with the people, or person, I’ll be traveling with before we leave. They need to know what I have in mind, and I need to know what they have in mind. Otherwise, somebody is bound to be disappointed, and accessibility issues are more likely to crop up. We'll have more fun if we’re on the same page.

It also means that to get on the “same page,” I have to be clear and honest about my physical limitations. I try to be very specific about explaining how my disability will affect the things we can and can’t do on a trip by saying things like, “Cobble stones are very hard to push a wheelchair on” or “Because I can’t push my chair through the sand, we can’t really go to the beach.” It’s my responsibility to speak up because my limitations will affect everyone. And if my limits are not okay, then it’s time to plan something else.

Finally, managing expectations means being honest with myself. This can be tough, but it is extremely important. There are some things I just can’t do or participate in. But that doesn’t mean that my friends and family should miss out on them just because I happen to be there. I have to know what I’m willing give up or not be a part of. I have to be willing to compromise. And my travel buddies have to be willing to compromise too.

So with that, I’ll say that my bags are almost packed, and I’m ready to hit the road! Tammy and I plan to go to SoHo, among many other wonderful New York neighborhoods. I know she is very aware of SoHo’s killer curbs because we’ve talked about our travel plan, and we’ve been there before. I think T’s shoulder still hurts from hoisting me up and down those curbs during our last visit. (Wink, wink!) But she’s game to tackle them again, and so am I. The shopping is so spectacular that it’s worth it! Look out New York!

I got an e-mail last night from one of my best friends from college with an idea for a blog entry. She writes:

"(One time) we went into the bathroom (at the movie theater), and there was a line, but the handicapped stall was empty. I was about to burst, and you told me to go ahead and use it first because you didn’t need to go that badly. I remember asking you what the “rules” were about using that stall and waiting in line. It was a very educational moment for me."

She goes on to suggest that I write an entry or two about “the rules” for dealing with disability because a lot of people “don’t know how to ask the questions they want to ask, or if those questions are even acceptable to ask.”

An excellent suggestion indeed! But before I launch what is sure to be a series of entries about what I think the rules are, I have to admit that I don’t even remember the incident she is referring to.

I’m sure it played out exactly as she says it did. I’m a firm believer that anyone can and should use the accessible restroom stall if it is the only one free. If there are other open stalls, use those first unless all of those are out of toilet paper. Then, it’s every woman for herself!

The point is, I don’t remember this incident because being in a wheelchair is so normal for me that the handicapped stall “rule” is second nature. It’s logical, as most of “the rules” are.

My friend’s wonderful e-mail reminds me that people with disabilities have a unique opportunity to be good teachers every day by being open about what they need and what they think. I can educate just by being active and living well. And that’s pretty cool!

I don’t remember telling my friend to go ahead and use the handicapped accessible stall, but I’m glad to know that she remembers.