Accessibility

It is 2016. I am flying through a Walmart parking lot in rainy Tacoma, Washington. I am riding my Harley Davidson with my buddy Jason and the rain is pissing on us. We were running in and out to buy some chuck steaks and a 30 rack of Coors light for our weekend camping trip. Without thinking, we pull up as close as we can to the entrance. We don’t want to be the assholes that steal a handicap spot so instead we throw down our kickstands in that fancy looking area next to the handicap spot and head in without batting an eye. As we wander through Walmart we hear on the intercom “can the owners of two Harley motorcycles move their bikes please?”. We put down our things and head back out into that Washington rain, annoyed at our minor inconvenience. We grudgingly move our bikes and go back in to buy our cheap steak and cheap beer. On our way out we see the wheelchair van that caused us to move our bikes and I notice the little boy being pushed by his mother in his chair and I feel slightly ashamed. 

I never noticed how naive and ignorant I was before moving into my own wheelchair. There are so many things to take into account with accessibility. Worrying about not being able to go to a Walmart because of some asshole bikers shouldn’t be something to take into account. If there is one thing that I have learned throughout my journey it is that accessibility will always be an obstacle and that you can’t plan for everything. 

A lot of places claim to be “accessible”. I have stayed at hotels in accessible rooms that are labeled accessible because they have a doorbell and a lowered door peephole. It isn’t a big issue for an over night stay but anything more than that and I would be SOL. I personally need a roll-in shower, a drop down toilet, a clear threshold under the bed, a pressure relieving mattress to avoid skin breakdown, etc... People just don’t get it, and truthfully I don’t blame them. 

Most people assume that working around my wheelchair is an easy task. It isn’t too bulky and I can maneuver it pretty well. Just build a ramp and I can get anywhere just like I would before, right? If you ask Kass’s foot and Korey’s back, I think you would hear a different story. My new whip looks small but it actually weighs 450 lbs. I also have a sweet, convenient metal rod that is attached to the bottom of my chair that connects to the floor of my van. I use the term sweet and convenient sparingly because, although convenient for using my van, it gets stuck on just about everything. I can’t tell you the number of times I have been climbing a ramp, almost through a doorway when ‘wham’. My chair slams to a stop and good ol’ floppy body here (that’s me) folds in half. 

I have been blessed with a wonderful planner in my life. Kass calls and researches just about every building that we go to and most say that they are wheelchair accessible. We’ll load up in the van and head there, take one look at the entrance and have to head back. It is a common theme, especially in New England where the buildings are so old. Another common theme that I have learned is that everyone stores their shopping carts in the handicap parking spots. Maybe it is some cosmic karma for parking my motorcycle where it didn’t belong years ago, but Walmart and other shopping place’s handicap spots are plagued with abandoned carts. I am haunted by broken down shopping carts. Please, please, please... don’t be the scum of the earth and return your carts 🙏.

There are still so many places that I have to explore and I am sure that I will run into some new obstacles along the way. One of them is the beach. I have always been more of a lake kind of guy but Kass deserves a day at the beach and I deserve to show off my girlfriend. I saw a Facebook post regarding making beaches accessible and I had to save it so I could discuss it here. 

I’ll start to summarize this post because I could ramble on about accessibility. I saw this picture above and thought about pre-gunshot Josh and post-gunshot Josh. Paralyzed Josh would drive my wheelchair full speed ahead to the ocean front. I would use this pathway to truly enjoy a day at the beach without getting put into one of those huge beach chairs and being pushed around. I would recline and picnic and not worry about getting stuck in the sand. Now, pre-gunshot Josh would use this path to play whiffle ball or to play corn hole or beer pong, not even taking into account that someone may be at the other end, sitting there, nervous about making their first push to the beach. There are light years between the old me and new me. Don’t think like the old me. Be aware of others.

God Bless.