Short version: Because it’s incredibly difficult to do simple things “normal” people take for granted.
Long version: Last night Joel and I went out to dinner.
We went to a new (it’s new to me, anyway) BBQ joint in Salem. I was happy when I saw an empty handicapped spot right in front by the door, and a ramp leading up to the door. That happiness was short-lived, however, when those turned out to be the extent of the handicapped accessibility.
First off, to get to the ramp, we had to get the wheelchair up onto a sidewalk without a curb-cut. Hello!! The wheelchair ramp doesn’t do much good if you can’t get to it! Oh well, the sidewalk wasn’t that far off the ground, so Joel was able to hoist me and the wheelchair up onto it.
And at the top of the ramp was a door that swung out toward us. There’s an art to pulling a door open and holding it open while getting a wheelchair through it. And we’ll learn it one of these days.
The food portion of the experience was fine. Yum yum, barbecue! Yum yum, hushpuppies! Yum yum… did I mention I’d had barbecue and hushpuppies for lunch, too? One of my co-workers sent her husband out to fetch us all some BBQ for lunch. That’s how I found out about this place. And I enjoyed the food so much, I wanted to share with Joel. Unfortunately, my system suddenly decided it had reached its BBQ limit and I needed to make a run for the restroom.
I typically try to avoid using public restrooms because, even if they’re modified for the handicapped, they’re often still difficult to use. If my arms weren’t as weak as my legs, I wouldn’t have so much trouble, but since my arms and legs are equally incapacitated, it’s hard for me to use handrails to transfer myself to and from the toilet. So even under ideal circumstances, going to the restroom is a pain. I’d rather wait until I’m home again and not have to deal with strange bathrooms at all. Unfortunately, at that time, this was not an option.
So off we went to the restroom. It was difficult getting there because the way was rather cluttered. This is a fairly small establishment. The walkways were very narrow with a couple sharp corners that barely accommodated the wheelchair. But I understand if that can’t be helped. What blew my mind was the restroom itself.
It had probably the tiniest toilet in the world. It was a baby toilet! Itsy bitsy, teeny weeny potty. Low to the ground, with the tiniest seat in the universe. And not a single handrail in sight. Nothing to hold on to to steady myself as I tried to sit down. Nothing to slow my descent as my legs gave out and I entered freefall. Oh God. Splat! I went on the toilet seat. Splat! went poop everywhere! How humiliating :o How beyond humiliating. How shameful.
So I called Joel in and he helped me to my feet. I cleaned up in the sink using those rough cheap brown paper towels. Fortunately, nothing got on my clothes. Thank goodness for small favors. But then came the hardest part of all: going to an employee and telling him I’d had a wee bit of an accident in the ladies’ room. Again, how humiliating :o :o I don’t think I’ve ever blushed so hard. It’s a wonder my heart didn’t give out beating, considering every drop of blood in my body was in my face. I kept telling myself that this was not only a restaurant, but also a bar, so surely they’ve seen as bad, if not worse, messes in the bathroom before. At least I didn’t finger-paint on the walls with it! But that’s small, small consolation. We paid the bill and got the hell out of there.
All this pain and embarrassment and botheration just to have a meal out. It’s not even worth it. Why does it have to be this way? No, I don’t think the whole world owes me, just because I was born a cripple (actually, I do, but this is beside the point). Do only people in wheelchairs appreciate curb-cuts and wide walkways? Do only people with weak legs like tall or even normal height toilets? (I’ve used the toilets in friends’ and relatives’ homes, OK? This toilet was tiny. It was a novelty toilet, not intended for actual bathroom use, I’m sure of it.) I totally believe that if you make things easier for the disabled to use them, you make them easier for everyone to use them.
I get so mad when I read articles like Readers’ Digest used to run in their “That’s Outrageous!” column about how the ADA was putting the small business owners out of business with their “outrageous” demands for ramps, widened doorways, etc. “Oh, those pushy disabled people! Why, disabled people never even go to this restaurant! Why must we accommodate them?!?!” :mad:
It’s evenings like these that make me seriously consider becoming a shut-in. Restaurant owners and employees everywhere, especially those that clean the bathrooms, would probably thank me. 
