Hell Year

Today is the one year anniversary of my "little incident." I am speaking of course of my slippage on a tiny patch of ice and the tearing of my quadriceps tendon. My dogs played a big role but I don't harbor any malice, except that I've renamed them Extra Stupid and Beyond Extra Stupid. They each answer to both, which is due in large part to me feeding them cookies when I say it.

When I asked my surgeon, the terrific Damien Billow from the Cleveland Clinic, when I would be normal again, he resisted the obvious joke and said it would be a year from the surgery, which was actually in May. I was pretty pissed at him for being so pessimistic. Did he not realize I'm an exceptional healer? Did he not know I needed it to be faster than that?

It turns out he was right and probably undershot it a tad. I won't be 100% by May 1, and that's partly due to me being a bigger than the average person and the leg having even further to go to be able to do its job. I'd say it may be more than 90%, which a few months ago seemed unreachable.

I missed a lot of stuff. My daughter's engagement party, an entire season of concerts in 3 bands, our community garden, and the ability to go just about anywhere. But the one thing I did was work hard enough to be able to walk my daughter down the aisle in Toronto and dance with her at the reception. I had to skip the hora but I'll get over it.

I've had to make a career change, which is still in progress,

I've learned to depend on others. And to be patient with people who have trouble walking. And that all handicap access is not created equal.

And I've learned that the love and support of the people I love is pretty much everything.

Tomorrow begins the year after Hell Year. We'll call it Great Year. The fun starts right now.

Some thoughts on handicap access

One of the things I've become an expert in is handicap access. I've gone through all the stages: wheel chair, walker, crutches, cane and just plain gimpy. To a fully-abled person the various ramps, doors, railings and access-ways seem more than sufficient. And I'm certain that most of them are in full compliance with the 1991 ADA Standards for Accessible Design, if not the 2010 ADA Standards for Accessible Design. But I'm also certain that some places have had to fudge on those standards a little to retrofit an old building or just to (understandably) save money. While the fully-abled look at them and think they're close enough to the standards and should be okay, those of us who use them can tell. If a wheelchair ramp is too steep or a corner too tight we feel it. And what may be a good ramp angle for a wheelchair is not necessarily good for a walker. Any downward slope is tricky for a person using a walker. If you see a person with a cane or a walker on a ramp, take a second to see if they may need assistance.

Another problem I've noticed is that often times the doors to a handicap bathroom have powerful automatic closers, and anyone using a walker or a pair of crutches has trouble holding open the door and navigating in and out. If you see an opportunity to help someone with the door please take it. They'll appreciate it.

Handicap parking. I have to confess that even though I can't wait to not need it anymore, it's pretty awesome. Most of the time there's a space open but there are some places where no matter when you go they are taken (Eton Chagrin Blvd I'm looking at you). I didn't try to shop anywhere on Black Friday but I'd bet handicap spaces were at a premium, even at WalMart who has some of the most generous handicap parking of anyone. If you're one of those people who parks for 'just a second' in a handicap spot, please stop.

All of these structural remedies are expensive and I appreciate that almost everywhere I want to go is accessible thanks to people spending money, but in the winter everyone could do two very easy, very cheap things to make access even better: shovel and salt. The other day the very worst shoveled spaces in the parking lot at a local retail establishment were the handicap spaces. And more than one ramp in town were icy. From the parking spaces to the ramps to the walkways, the thing people who have trouble getting around need most is sure footing. Winter is scary enough.

So to sum up how you can help people who we have always assumed were already being helped sufficiently by the 1991 ADA Standards for Accessible Design:

1. Hold bathroom doors
2. Look for people who need a hand on ramps and curbs
3. Park where you belong
4. Shovel and salt when it's your responsibility. If you're a boss, make it someone's responsibility.

Thanks for reading.