“Be very careful with this wheelchair! You are handling a $15,000 piece of equipment. Any damages will be considering grievous and handled by my lawyer. HANDLE WITH CARE!” That’s the sign (one of them), that now goes on my chair each time I fly. You see, I’ve learnt my lesson the two times I’ve flown this year (the first time was to L.A. in June for a Christopher Reeve Foundation event, the second time was for a weekend getaway to Las Vegas in late July): When flying (or with Sun Country Airlines, at least) you simply must print out your own “Handle with care” signs and tape them all over your chair before…

I know it’s been discussed by hundreds of other dis-folks before on plenty of other dis-sites, but I just gotta say how much I think “Timmy” (and “Jimmy”) on South Park rules from a disabled person’s perspective; not only for being hysterically funny (making fun of oneself can provide the greatest of laughs), but also how it shows AB kids interacting and being friends with a disabled kid and not making a big deal out of it. See, they show it without pointing it out and this subtle “non-highlighting the obvious politically correct goings-on” decision has done a lot I believe, in helping AB’s (of all ages) to stop freaking out what others may think…

Ever have that WTF moment (especially when you first wake up), where you simply can’t believe you’re in a wheelchair? It’s been 14 years since my accident, and I’ve been getting that feeling more and more lately… It’s annoying and surreal. Just when you think you’ve gotten used to your condition, there goes your brain again, screwing up your coveted peace of mind. Why in the hell is this happening to me so late in the game?? Anyone, anyone? Somebody help a sister! – Tiff

How many times have you fallen out of your chair? In my 14 years of paralyzedville, I believe it’s been about 12 times or so, I can vivdly remember each time. I remember because it’s embarrassing. I remember because it hurts! And I remember because it’s a brutal reminder of how much I *really* depend on my chair. And I REALLY don’t like the latter part. It also doesn’t help that I can’t get back in it without help. As I wheel around each day, working, visiting friends, going out, doing my day-to-day mundane activities, I forget how much I really rely on my chair. I forget I’m even using…

It’s not uncommon for me to be subjected to a variety of openly rude and sometimes idiotic questions, thanks to my more than visible disability. I live in the downtown area of a major metropolitan city and there is a wide array of “crazies” that litter my ‘hood. Some are your common drunkards, some are your “ghetto fabulous” wanna-be gang bangers who have a thing for blondes (wheelchair or no), some are your recent immigrants from Somalia, India, or Mexico and have never in their lives seen an attractive and seemingly “healthy” (then “why does she need a wheelchair?” they confusingly think to themselves) woman needing to use a wheelchair.…

And yes, we SCI’ers and other people with mild to severe disabilities are totally cleared to use it! Definition: “Gallows humor is a type of humor that arises from stressful, traumatic or life-threatening situations such as accidents, wartime events, natural disasters; often in circumstances where death is perceived as impending and unavoidable. It is similar to black comedy but differs in that it is made by the person affected.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gallows_humor  Go ahead, make fun of yourself! It’ll make you feel better I swear! – Tiff

I recently fell across this crazy (yet brilliant and hysterical) article written by Yasha Levine on “The Exile,” a Russia-based informations site, called “Hell On Wheels: 24 Hours Without Wheels in Moscow.” I’m not quite sure if his article was supposed to be satirical or purely informational, or shocking, or all three of these attributes, but I do know one thing – it was a HUGE wake-up call to Miss Tiffiny Carlson, in regards to how lucky I am to live in a city (Minneapolis), that is over 90% accessible (in regards to public facilities). What Mr. Levine did was rent out a wheelchair for 250 rubles/week called “Nadezdha,” from…

If you happen to be the lucky owner of a feline companion and also find yourself a wheelchair-user, you might have discovered the same bizarre occurence that I have during my many chair-using years: Cats want your wheelchair.I think it’s because that cats are, without a doubt (next to the sloth of course. No animal can beat the sloth), the laziest animal on the planet. And if you don’t believe me, go down to your friendly neighborhood cat shelter and pick one up. Not only will you be doing a service to society (score!), you’ll also be endlessly amused at how a cats seem to hone in on your chair; the most expensive seat in…

Ok, I’ll say it once again: “I’m Really Not a Wheelchair-Type of Person.” You see, I’ve found this totally ludicrous statement to work like a charm nearly everytime I spew it from my mouth. When I meet amiable, yet (unfortunately) ignorant, able-bodied folks, it’s the only way I can get it through their thick “sterotypical layered skulls” that I’m just as “normal” as they are. And of course, after I say this statement, I go into my injury story: “Yadda, yadda, I dove into shallow water, broke my neck, yadda, yadda, drowned, yadda.” And then, after this bizarre conversation (if you can even call it that. It feels more like being grilled by the Spanish Inquizition), they begin (at least from what…