Answers (Part II)

You can find the first set of questions-and-answers here.

Pebz asks: The chair: an added bonus prop to bom-chicka-wow-wow or a hindrance?

Wooo hoo! I was waiting for the questions to get down and dirty! Anyway, the answer is both . . . at least for now. Since LGMD is a progressive disease, I will slowly lose more and more of my mobility. But for now, I am still able to stand and walk, as long as I have someone or something to hold on to.

As I’m less able to move around, the number of positions I’ll be able to do, physically, will get smaller and smaller. So it’s really a matter of being creative. Without being too over-the-top with details here, I can tell you that one of the greatest “tools” we’ve invested in was a sling, which I actually got from writing a sponsored post. It has really helped take my mobility issues out of the equation and I highly recommend it. Plus, it’s just a lot of fun.

Pebz asks: ok this is probably borderline gross, but I’m curious. What about bathrooms that DON’T have the big stalls? How do you pull that one off??? Do you tell the managers off when there isn’t a big enough stall for your chair? (once again, I’d probably piss on the floor lol)

Most places – like restaurants and chain stores – are pretty good about this sort of thing. There have been times when I’ve gone to smaller establishments where I can’t function in their bathrooms and have had to make pit stops at a gas station. The biggest issue I’ve encountered is McDonald’s (their bathrooms always suck) and road trip rest stops. In these situations, I have Ben help me in the men’s room. These are not some of my finer moments, but I’m safe, I’m not dying from a full bladder, and in the end that’s all I’m concerned with. And in my experience, the general public is a lot more accepting of a husband helping his handicapped wife in the men’s room than a handicapped woman bringing her husband into the ladies room for assistance.

(I actually emailed this part of the answer to Pebz, but I thought I’d share it anyway.) Here’s the problem about pissing on the floor. If you need a wheelchair assessable stall in the first place, you probably can’t stand up long enough to pee on the floor, so you’d be peeing on yourself and your chair. And if you were able to stand, you have mobility issues, so you’d end up slipping and falling in your own urine. And that, my dear friends, is the definition of irony.

Life with Kaishon asks: Have you ever wanted to have a wheelchair with a special color for the seat? Or something that made your wheelchair stick out? Or do you just feel like having a wheelchair makes you stick out already?

I am always looking for ways to customize my wheelchair! I think disabled women should look at their wheelchairs like they do their purses: is it me? Does it express my personality? I would LOVE to have a bright colored seat on my wheelchair: pink, orange, or neon green. How fun!

Much to my mothe’s dismay, I have joked since transitioning to the electric wheelchair that I was going to get this sticker to put in the middle of the backrest . . .

That’s all for now! Thank you for all the questions; I hope they helped give some insight on what day-to-day life is really like for someone in a wheelchair.