So you’re starting to wrap your head around the logistical nightmare that is my life, huh?
One of the reasons I use an agency for my carers is because, in a pinch, they are usually able to send someone out to me last-minute if this happens. Usually.
However, there are times when this is not an option. In those cases, my mom is my go-to. I love my mom and she is wonderful, but we know how to push each others’ buttons when we’re feeling stressed. Also, you would not want your dad doing for you the things my helpers do for me, and I don’t particularly love it when my mom has to do them, either. Yet, I prefer her doing them than a sister-in-law or a best friend, which is even less fun.
Shut up. 27 days?? Whoa. I need a life. But thanks!
I answered this question already, but yes, almost every single morning I open my eyes thinking I’m able-bodied again. It takes about .2 seconds to dispel that notion, or about the length of time it takes for me to realize my arm is not responding to my request to scratch my nose. It’s not a big deal, and I don’t cry every morning or anything; it’s just probably a funny little aftertaste from my dreams, where I’m mostly AB.
This happened a lot more often when I was a teenager, and when I lived in my parents’ house. My parents always made sure to deflect any questions, and be clear that I was the boss. (Of course, on the side, they also made sure I didn’t abuse that power and gave me a lot of talks about professionalism and courtesy).
Now that I’m an adult, and a carer only meets my mom once she starts working for me (or very occasionally in a third interview), this is not an issue.
I’ve taken buses, which have always been just fine, but never a subway. Mostly, I go places in my van, though. Remember, I live in Southern California, where the regional motto is “If you can’t drive your car there, it’s not worth going.”
As other chair users have commented on this thread, most ABs would be shocked and appalled at the lack of general accessibility in the post-ADA world, if they spent one day in a chair. Everything in this world is designed for humans to access on two legs.
You’re talking about my FES bike. I certainly don’t use the bike enough to build up Lance Armstrong muscles. But would it be possible for me? No. As you suspected, I would have to ride that thing 8 hours a day to build up any mass. But I’d go dysreflexic looooong before 8 hours was up. The bike is good for keeping my legs flexible and avoiding contractures (shortening of ligaments and tendons in joints, brought on by sitting all day and not moving). But if I’m not careful or if I go too long, my body freaks out. Who knows what it’s feeling? Whatever it is, it doesn’t like it.
But would it be possible for someone else? In a limited number of circumstances, sure. Lots of incomplete paras have near-normal muscle tone. And if they have some spasticity, to complement what they do on the bike for the hours that they’re off it, they can maintain their legs looking pretty darn “normal.”
Here’s another question: If I’m in the chair, with a 5-point harness on, what happens to my arms and legs when the chair goes upside down? Not to mention, once I’m upside down, you’ve gotta make sure I stay somewhat stable, so I don’t shift out of range of my chin controls.
Yeah, we’re gonna need a whole lot more “points” on that harness, I’m guessing.
This is AWESOME. For one, it’s just too funny. For two, that is one B.A. para. Dragging himself through gator-infested swamps for a mile?? Question: Did he have his chair with him? Or was the swamp just impassable in a chair? OR did he leave it at the airport, thinking “Why would I need it? I’ve got my airplane to get me where I need to go!” LOL
Wheelchair pilots of smaller airplanes don’t (usually) take their chairs with them because (usually) there isn’t enough room in the cockpit for one, particularly in the smaller aircraft. This was an ultralight, like I said, basically a hang glider with a motor so you can’t even really say it had a cockpit. If they do go somewhere they intend to get out and get around after landing there’s the usual logistical nightmare - most small airports don’t have wheelchairs on hand like the big passenger hubs do, so it becomes a matter of how the heck you get a chair into box barely big enough for you, much less a mechanical contrivance for getting around, assuming there actually IS a cockpit of some sort which, for the smaller aircraft, isn’t the case. You can’t just strap it to the top of the wing, it will mess up the airflow.
It surprises a lot of AB’s and non-pilots how many disabled pilots are out there. Then it often surprises them how little accommodations are made for them. One of my flight instructors had a para student and someone once asked him how her training program was different, how many people it took to get her in and out of the airplane, etc. He said when she started he told her she would have to figure out how to get herself in and out herself, and how to properly hook up the hand controls to the rudder pedals. So she spent a day trying out the different airplanes and working out how to transfer in and out, and then spent some time with one of the certified mechanics in regards to the hand controls, then she was set. Once she was in the airplane, it was pretty much just like anyone else flying. The only difference is that she would have one of the line boys walk out with her to collect her chair and put it in the hangar while she was flying, then have someone walk the chair back out to the airplane when she was done.
Freaks out the tourists when an airplane lands and the pilot wheels to the front desk to pay for the rental and gas, ya know?
Truth is, when it comes to flying we humans are all cripples (just ask my pet birds) and an airplane is a prosthesis for getting us off the ground. It’s not the case in every country that the disabled can legally fly, but here the FAA has only two concerns about granting someone a license:
Can you control the machine?
Are you a danger to others (note it’s to others, they’ll happily allow you to maim or kill yourself as long as no one else is in danger)
If the answer to both of those is “yes” you can be a pilot. Now, there are times you might be limited - deaf people can’t fly as pilot in command where radios are required for example (although technology might change that in the next decade or so). So long as the disabled pilot can come up with a way of making the whole business work reliably, though, they’re good to go.
And that’s probably enough of me hijacking this tread, although now I’m having a fantasy about a skydiving event involving a tandem jumping umkay strapped to someone missing a leg being flown up to altitude by a one-armed one-eyed pilot. When ya’ll get down on the ground again and the AB’s are freaking out (OMG! Some of them are missing parts! I heard the little girl broke her neck! OMG! OMG! Skydiving is dangerous…!) when the tourists ask the amputees what happened to their missing limbs they can answer tersely “papercut” and refuse further answers, and umkay can attribute her state to a freak accident involving a kitten.
Doh! Bad word choice, but it wasn’t a function of your injury - that’s all any person (except maybe the pilot) is to some of us engineers. We’re not always up to speed on the human side of the project. :smack:
OK, so you’ll definitely need to secure your legs and shoulders. But if the rocket chair turns over with your arms free, you can wave them over your head in the universal sign for wheeeeeeeee!
Yes, our twins are fraternal, as she is, and as a few of her cousins. Yeah, twins run really, really strong in that family. Since your twin is a brother, you obviously are too (two?). It used to drive me up the wall when they were babies and people would ask if they were identical, despite the fact that all they had in common were being blonde and blue, and female. (Now they’re green eyed. Still female, though.) Finally someone blurted out, “But I thought same sex twins had to be identical!?” before I understood there confusion.
Eh, I’m not worried about the boyfriend. She looks amazingly like her mom did. He’s got the 22 year old version, only techie, so I think he’s staying with her. Sides, I’m bigger!
Ahahahahahahahaha! I am for sure using the kitten line the next time someone asks what happened to me–too funny! And now you’ve got me imagining all kinds of hilarious prank scenarios a la Arrested Development’s “And THAT’S why you always leave a note/don’t yell/teach lessons.” (Oh pleasepleaseplease somebody get that).
And, girlfriend, you could never highjack any thread of mine. I would read your to-do list, your writing is so entertaining and knowledgeable.
Now I read this, “… so I don’t shit out of” before I caught myself. I’m afraid you probably wouldn’t have time to, though. It would be a very short flight, without some kind of emergency shut-off and parachute. And helmet. You’re gonna need a helmet.
See, we physicists differ from engineers, at least we theoretical types. Of course, we can’t actually build anything without the Oompah Loompahs of science.
Big Bang Theory. I know it is nowhere near accurate. I still laugh though. Especially since my brother is an Oompah Loompah.
Not for one second did I think you were referring to me as payload because of my disability. I thought that you did that (and found it hilarious) because you’re an “enginerd.”
But that’s a great example of what I mean when I say I can make people feel awkward and embarrassed without even trying. Did you ever see that old Milk commercial with the guy who comes down the the kitchen for a midnight snack, and his wife is waiting in the dark? She confronts him, saying “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” He stammers his way through confessions about his time in jail and the fact that her ring is a cubic zirconium until she stops him short–“You drank the last of the milk.” “Oh.” Ha! I get stuck in situations like that a lot.
My brother and I are, yes, obviously fraternal. I have pictures of us in the bath as kids that prove it. But we’ve been asked more times than you would think possible if we are identical. :smack:
I don’t know if this is such a good idea, guys. It’s getting kinda complicated.
