The Banker and I have just returned from a fantastic long weekend in NYC. In my day to day life, I use a walker or cane, but long days of traveling call for my convertible walker/transport chair, Optimus Prime. So, for 72 hours I had the concentrated experience of hearing the questionable things people feel compelled to say when they see someone unexpected (young? pretty? cool hat?) out for a push in the park. Here’s a sampling of some of the mouth garbage we heard.
1. “Can she walk a little, or..?”
The first questionable comment came at airport security when the dude in charge of scanning our bags decided to speak to The Banker instead of me. I’m not sure why he assumed my ears, mouth, and brain didn’t work, but it felt so satisfying to loudly declare, “You can speak directly to me”. He apologized.
2. “You have to go across the street to the second floor”
We arrived at the Shubert Theater on Broadway, full of excitement to see Bette Midler in Hello, Dolly. Fortunately we got there early, because when I asked about the bathrooms I was told the ‘accessible’ ones were across the street. On the second floor. Of a busy restaurant. It would have been nice to know this ahead of time. Like, when I booked accessible seating for the show. There would be no champagne at intermission.
3. “Nice seat”
In addition to those who talk to wheelchair users’ companions instead of engaging directly, there are those who infantilize and treat you like a little kid; who will touch you and pat you on the head. During my dry intermission, a woman approached me, rubbed my back and told me I had a nice seat. Like I was 5. Was she just trying to be nice? Maybe. I don’t care. This is weird. Unless you’re my mother, please don’t touch me and there, there me. You don’t know me.
4. “Esti intr-un scaun cu rotile”
While rolling down the street, an old Romanian (probably?) woman rushed me saying something along the lines of the above. Technically, I don’t speak Romanian but I’m pretty sure she was saying “You’re very beautiful.” Look it up.
5. “That’s the best way to see New York City.”
At the end of a long day, in the elevator at the hotel, a weary woman looked at Optimus longingly and said the above. The Banker was not having it and told her so. She doubled down and continued complaining about her sore feet. The Banker told her not to complain about walking, to someone sitting in a wheelchair. Like, duh. This seems pretty obvi, but you’d be surprised at how many times I’ve heard some version of this. Lucky for her, we arrived at her floor and she left the elevator in a huff.
6. “This would have been a lot easier if you could stand.”
Oh, really? Please, tell me more about how this affects you. This pissy comment came from the crusty TSA employee who’s job it was to give me a pat down/deep-cavity search at airport security. She seemed really put out that I couldn’t balance without a cane. So, I made a scene.
Despite this rant, I’m not actually a bitter, old, wheelchair lady, hell-bent on politically correct language. I get it. I’m different and for some reason, people need to point that out. I’m still getting used to this new version of myself, and the reaction it provokes in others can be frustrating. I’m learning to roll with it for the most part, but I don’t think my big, loud mouth is ever gonna let it slide when it’s way outta line (TSA lady, I’m talking to you).
Traveling with MS requires a little extra planning and patience but it’s worth it. And, it wasn’t all side-eyes and throwing shade. We had many positive experiences. We encountered one NYC traffic officer who was exceptionally friendly and helpful, an excellent ambassador to the city and others who were eager to make sure we had a comfortable and easy time in the city.
Mad love to The Banker, who is a pro at navigating OP through the city, in and out of cabs, boats and bars and never, not ever, makes me feel like any of this sucks for him.