Tuesday, June 16, 2015

The Little Wheelchair That Could

Going downhill is fun. Going up is not.

  I'm used to having people push me up ramps or having my electric wheelchair, but one day I was not so lucky. My best friend/sister from high school started working retail at the mall after she graduated. A year older, I got my first car and was really excited at the chance to pick her up from work. I drove around the lot for five minutes looking for a handicapped parking spot. However, it was Saturday afternoon and summertime so naturally the mall was packed with shoppers and kids meeting up at the connected movie theater.

  Soon, I lost patience with waiting for a spot to open up and resorted to finding a parking spot in the regular lot. However, I couldn't find a place that would allow me enough space to get my wheelchair out and realized that I would have to park at the back of the lot. I parked the van and pulled out my cellphone to text my friend:

U R gonna have to meet me outside. Lot is full, couldn't find a spot up front.

  A few minutes later she called me.

"Hey, I gotta get my paycheck. Can you meet me inside? I wanted to get some shopping done while I'm here."

"Sure sis." I said and hung up.

  I scanned the parking lot. It still looked pretty full and I doubted any handicapped spots were open yet. It wasn't the distance that had me weary of getting out of the van. If it had been a straight cruise to the front doors, I'd have wheeled out there twenty minutes earlier. The store where my friend worked was located on the second floor of the mall. The parking lot was on a steep hill. A concrete sidewalk sloped down from the double door entrance and ended near my parking spot. It was the steepest ramp I'd ever used and I was going to have to push myself up it!

  For a moment, I thought about calling my friend and asking her to come help me (she would have in a heartbeat), but as I looked at that hill I felt a familiar urge to prove that I could overcome this new challenge. Anytime there is an obstacle in my way, I am always reminded of something my dad said to me anytime I thought I couldn't do something as a kid: You are an Elliott, you are strong. And you are a child of God. You can do all things because he gives you strength. These words have always resonated in me, every time I've faced something that seemed beyond my capabilities.

  I got my wheelchair out and made my way to the sidewalk. Slowly, I began pushing myself upward. As I pushed myself inch by inch up the hill, I rotated my thoughts between the bible quote, "I can do all things..." and my altered version of the little engine's, "I think I can (I know I can)..." About halfway up I had to stop and take a few breathes. That is when someone approached me.

"Would you like me to push you?" The stranger kindly offered.

  Now, given that it was ninety degrees outside and I was aching in my arms and back, the smart thing to do would be to accept this awesome person's kindness, but pride got the better of me.

"No thank you. This is how I get my exercise." I tried to smile convincingly.

  The person didn't insist. Sometimes, people are afraid to offer me help, because they think it will offend me. I have been told I give off a vibe of strong independence and I am glad I do, but sometimes I don't know when to ask for help. This was one of those times.

  After the person left, I continued to push myself upward. However, my hands had become really sweaty and it is hard to grip the wheel rims with wet palms. As I began to lose grasp, I could feel gravity play tug of war with the wheelchair, and gravity was wining. I started to roll backward! I quickly took control of the situation, by grasping one wheel tightly and spinning myself around, so that I could cruise down the hill forward, instead of back.

  I managed to stop the chair before it went down, and that is when a weird idea struck. My feet were able to touch the ground, so instead of going downward I used my feet to assist me in pushing myself backwards the rest of the way up the hill. It was not the most conventional way of going up a ramp, but it was a hell of a lot easier than relying solely on my fragile arms and sweaty palms. Finally, I made it to the top! I stared down the hill in triumph. When I told my friend about what I'd done, she looked at me in shock,

"You could have just parked on the other side."

  Of course. There are no hills on the other side.

No comments:

Post a Comment