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At the Dentist Again
Written by Chloe on Wednesday, December 16, 2009
I wasn’t planning to write again about going to the dentist. It’s pretty mundane stuff. But as I was sitting there this afternoon, I thought about Sean’s post "Writing About What I Do, Or About What I Feel". Okay, just let me know if I’m boring the crap out of you. I can take it. I’m a tough girl. Off we go to the dentist:
As I was transferring from wheelchair to car in the parking lot at work, a guy stared at me the whole time. It doesn’t bother me; I know it’s going to happen sometimes. There could be all sorts of reasons why people do this. Perhaps he has BIID. Perhaps he is a devotee. Perhaps he’s curious about how I’m going to dismantle the wheelchair. Perhaps he wonders how I came to be in a wheelchair. Perhaps he just thinks I’m hot. Perhaps his wife who was in a wheelchair died, and I remind him of her. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need to know. I just accept that sometimes people are going to look.
The parking lot at the dentist was icy. Well, it’s not my first time wheeling across icy parking lots. At least it was reasonably flat. Hills can get exciting.
The ramp up to the door was steep, and there was no flat spot at the top. I couldn’t open the door without setting the brakes first; good job it wasn’t a spring door; good job it opened inwards. One needs to have quite a repertoire of techniques to open doors.
The first thing the hygienist said to me was "You’re supposed to be out of that by now!" Hmm, how does anybody else know when I’m supposed to be out of my wheelchair?
I had called two days ago to let them know that I needed the wheelchair accessible room at the end of the corridor. The message had not been passed on, so the hygienist went to prepare the room.
Transfers from wheelchair to dentist chair are the easiest I have come across. She already knows I don’t need any assistance.
The sensations of getting my teeth professionally cleaned are wonderful to me. When I was a kid I used to like sticking sharp objects into my gums. Hmm, maybe that’s too much information.
We talked about a bunch of stuff. She wanted to know what was being done so that I wouldn’t need the wheelchair any more. I was rather evasive. I was thinking that it looks too suspicious to be adamant that I’ll always need it. Anyway, she said I had a great attitude about being in a wheelchair; no surprises there.
She said "Your skin is so pretty! You’ve got to tell me how you do that". I actually think it might have something to do with having had such a late puberty, but I didn’t want to get into that. I was evasive again.
After the cleaning was done, the dentist came in for the check up. No problems; my teeth are in great shape. He noticed my leg brace and asked about it. I guess I must not have had an actual check up since I’ve been wearing it. I gave a very short explanation about the skiing accident. The hygienist added that I had come in a wheelchair, which she had taken to another room.
The three of us asked each other what we were doing for the holidays. The dentist said he was going to a neighbouring state for a ski trip. I asked him why he was going to another state when there was so much great local skiing. He explained about family, and said that he skis locally too. I asked him which local resorts he liked to ski at. He mentioned three. I skied at two out of those three last season. This is useful information. I’m keeping a mental note of who I might run into while skiing. So far it’s a short list: one of the psychotherapists at work, my orthodontist, and my dentist.
After I had transferred back to my wheelchair, the dentist said "You’re working to get out of that, right?" I’d reached my limit of people assuming that I don’t want to be in a wheelchair, so I said "I’m fine with being in a wheelchair; it’s not a problem. Actually I like being in a wheelchair; it’s faster than walking in any case".
The receptionist was my next stop, to make another appointment. She said "You’re still in a wheelchair?" I smiled very sweetly at her and simply said "Yes".
Going through the door on the way out was more difficult than coming in. Opening the door was easy. Going down the ramp would be easy. But how do I close the door? There was nobody in the waiting room to close it after me. I figured it out. I stopped halfway through, with the brakes on so that I wouldn’t run down the steep ramp. Then I grabbed the door handle, gave it a pull, and very quickly took off the brakes to start down the ramp out of the way of the door. As soon as I was over the threshold I immediately stopped and put on the brakes again. From there I could close the door, and release the brakes again. That was a tricky one.
On the way back to work I thought about the idea of simply telling everybody at the dentist’s office about BIID next time they ask about the wheelchair. Why not? What’s the worst they could do to me? Refuse to check my teeth because I’m weird?
All the disability spaces were taken when I got back to the parking lot at work. That was the first time it happened to me. I had no choice but to park on the intermediate level. Rolling down the hill was fun. Too bad about the speed bump or I could have accelerated very nicely.
At the inner heavy double doors, which open outwards, I stopped in front of the right one and pushed on the right handle while pulling open the left door. This must be very confusing for people who come from the inside attempting to help. A guy tried to push open the (my) right door, probably presuming I was trying to get through that one. He stood directly in front of the door that I had opened and was trying to get through, thereby completely blocking my way. I need to find a way to not find these things irritating. I managed a weak smile. You’ve got to do better than this, Chloe! You said you were going to be nice to people who are just doing their best to help.
I came across the facilities manager as I wheeled along the corridors back to my office. I took the opportunity of asking him about the possibility of automatic doors, as I had promised my paraplegic coworker I would do. The doors are going to be completely blocked off next year after a new wing with a new front entrance has been constructed. They’re not going to put any money into doors which are going to be ripped out in a while. Oh well.
I wasn’t looking forward to getting back to my car at the end of the day. It would be the longest steepest hill I’ve attempted during the current moderate fibromyalgia episode.
Shit! I was right about going up that hill; quite nasty. I REALLY DO need those parking spaces.
I stopped to pick up groceries on the way home. I wonder why people leave shopping carts right in the middle of disability parking spaces. It’s not the first time I’ve seen it, and it kinda makes sense. Wheelchairs have wheels. Shopping carts have wheels. It is rather confusing.
Tags: Accessible, BIID, Doors, Leg Brace, Paraplegia, Parking, Skiing, Transfers, Wheelchair
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8 Comments
Is there any such thing as an anti-rollback device for wheelchairs? It would allow the wheels to be rotated forward without any resistance, but would lock the wheels if they turned backwards. It could easily be engaged/disengaged.
My latest parking beef is that the snow plows at work seem to think that the end disability spot is a great place to dump the excess snow. This morning I had a choice between that one and the van accessible space, which my paraplegic coworker likes because he transfers to his wheelchair from the passenger seat. I chose the edge of the snow dump. This proved tricky because the last stage of my transfer involves wheeling from the back of the car to the driver’s door to pick up my purse and stuff. Eventually I made it with leapfrog wheelies through the snow. Reversing out of there was just as difficult. I stopped at the front desk on my way in, to draw attention to the problem.
I ran into my paraplegic friend on the way back from the cafeteria, and we discussed the issue of snow in the parking lot. He was also excited to show me that the idea I’d had to stop his feet from flopping off the back of his footrest was working beautifully.
4 On 16 December, 2009, Sean said:
@Elisabeth, the disability parking spaces are meant for people with disabilities, not just for people using wheelchairs. People may have conditions that you can’t see, such as heart conditions, or arthritis. They may not need wider spaces, but they need to be closer to the entrance. Even people who have seemingly no reason to have a parking placard may have a genuine condition requiring it. Don’t be so quick judging :)
@Ronald, yes, there is such a device on the market. Not often used – it’s clonky and most people who need something like that tend to be in care facilities rather than out and about
@Chloe, it seems that without fail, snowplows view the disability parking spaces as the perfect place to unload snow. *and* if it’s not removed right away, you’ll be stuck with it ’till next year’s melt.
@Sean
What I meant is that there should be both just wheelchair parking spaces and the other disability parking spaces. You know, one wheelchair space for the driver in a wheelchair, the rest for others. I understand there are other genuine conditions.
And no, I am not quick to judge. It might be very different where you live but in the USA the disability tag is highly misused. I know such people personally. Some of them will even walk me to my car back in the parking lot. ;-)
The snow dump is in exactly the same place on the parking spot as it was yesterday. I mentioned this to another person at the front desk, and suggested that I’d fix it myself if they’d give me a shovel. She assured me that she’d see to it. Tune in tomorrow for the latest exciting installment!
The story from the front desk on the way out yesterday was that the snow pile was too icy to shovel. Utter rubbish! I brought my own shovel to work this morning. After lunch, when the sun had softened it up a bit, I set to work. Shoveling snow from a wheelchair is easier than I thought it was going to be, partly because plenty of people stopped to take a turn.
The last group of people who stopped to help happened to be three architects who are designing the new wing and front entrance. I asked them to make sure of an increased number of disability parking spaces and also automatic doors at the new front entrance. They guaranteed me a yes on both of those. Yay!
Okay, my shoulder hurts like hell now, but it really was worth it. I think enough people saw me shoveling snow from a wheelchair that there’ll be less whining about it being too difficult a task next time around.
There was more snow in the end parking spot at work this morning. I started shoveling as soon as I transferred into the wheelchair. The easiest solution seems to be to keep my shovel in the car and just do it myself.
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1 On 16 December, 2009, Elisabeth said:
Steep hills and doors, there is nothing like that. Why does the able-bodied world believe we have muscles of Arnold Schwarzenegger?
I am getting better with doors but steep hills and ramps really get me. I was going to the library today and the only way there is through a very steep hill. The one you just hope you won’t flip back. About six foot long. A lady was watching me from her car and shared with me that the community really needs to do something about it. It’s nice when people have constructive thoughts (Let’s make it really accessible) that those pitying thoughts. The other day a lady in church came to me and just started rubbing my back. She made me nauseous. Physically and emotionally. She never talked to me before or even then.
As Chloe says, why do people presume that nobody wants to be in a wheelchair? That it is such a tragedy? I always tell people that I am fine with it. Let them wonder…
I was also thinking about parking (not that I have a tag). Why don’t they make special parking spots for wheelchair users only? Why do the overweight people who could use the extra exercise, have to take space of the ones who really need the extra space for transfer? Sometimes people look at me funny when they have just taken the last handicapped spot (they have the tag because of grandma who is taking a nap at home) while I’m wheeling from way back of the parking lot. Maybe it makes them think a little bit? Would be nice.