A wheelchair, a walker, and a cane are at a bench – similarities to the classic bar joke are intentional, but seriously less of joke for the privileged, able-bodied fool, trying to get this clandestine meeting to fruition. In this one instance, i can seriously say i experienced the absence of able-bodied privilege outlined in MIT’s School of Architecture & Planning’s take on Peggy McIntosh’s article on white privilege – able-bodied privilege namely:1. I can easily arrange to be in the company of people of my physical ability.3. I can be assured that my entire neighborhood will be accessible to me.12. Almost always, when asking to speak to the person in charge, will find someone of the same physical status.
First find Juravinski hospital, up the mountain in Hamilton where my uncle is staying for the next week or so – with the typical one-way streets, construction closures, and festival closures, going on, not to mention the PanAm ParaPanAm games clogging up even the HOV lanes on the 403 – we manage miraculously with only a couple of U-Turns. Next find accessible parking, within a reasonable distance of the entrance, as there is no convenient driveway for drop-offs for the non-able-bodied, power duo of walker and cane (a.k.a. the Kids). Manage to find a spot, overlooking the valley a seemingly short distance away, but proved to be not-short-enough for the cane-assisted Cow. He lags behind as the mother unit and i stop a few times for him to catch up. Just outside the hospital, he asks to wait on a bench to rest, in the hope that my uncle can be coaxed into coming outside for some fresh air.
Proceed with the walker-assisted mother unit to the main entrance, stupidly avoiding the clearly-labeled, wheelchair accessible back entrance, in the hopes of saving a few steps – the irony is not wasted. Enter the old hospital entrance, that includes a staircase, and a key-operated, wheelchair lift. I remember talking to AccessAbility Services at the University of Toronto Scarborough when the new UTSC Bookstore was in the design stage, and how it was so important not to have any lifts that would be key-operated (when no one was available to provide a key), and dependent on power (when power outages can occur),…ultimately a ramp was built, that is used by all, and requires no special access to use.
As the mother unit is comfortable with going down the 6 or 7 stairs on her own, I schlep the walker over my shoulder and join her at the bottom, but not before she almost agrees to let the 70+ year old visitor, help with the walker. I thank him, as kindly as I can, but decline his offer to assist, not once, but twice. I’m the able-bodied one here, making the stupid decision…naturally, i’m going to own it!~
Make it to my uncle’s room on the 3rd floor of M wing, where the nurse convinces him to make the journey outside in a wheelchair. Now we’re motoring, but neither of us remember the floor we came in on when stepping into the ancient elevator, and pressing the 1st floor button. Unfortunately that yielded no visible exit to the outside world, so after a number of circles round the deserted hallways, we headed back to the 3rd floor, so that i could ask the nursing staff to kindly to be shown the door!
Turns out the elevator was marked with a G but i couldn’t make out the numbering system, as the G appeared on the right side of the panel, when i would’ve expected it on the left – so like the extra “THE” in the classic mind-bending triangle –
PARIS
IN THE
THE SPRING
…i missed it entirely. Once safely on the ground floor, we found the U-shaped ramp – a little steep if you ask me, but likely making the most of the area, without major renovations to the older structure. So after nearly 1/2 an hour passed, we made it to outside the hospital walls, only to find the Cow had wandered off…but that’s a whole other case of privilege!
(*Excerpt from an offline journal on July 12, 2015)