Blessing Blooms From ‘Bathroom Blunder’

            I recently wrote about an incident which occurred at my daughter’s school titled, “School’s Inaccessibility Causes Bathroom Blunder.” In the two years my daughter has attended the school, it was the first time I found myself in a physically inaccessible situation. I was quite dismayed, to say the least. After the experience, I planned to contact the Headmaster and ask for a meeting. I intended to let him know how I’d felt and that I expected the necessary accommodations to be made to the bathroom by the end of the school year.

            So, it was to my surprise (and delight) that I received an email from the Headmaster a week later. He acknowledged that I must have felt frustrated and embarrassed, apologized profusely and explained to me that the Director of Facilities had bought equipment and installed it in order to make the bathroom ADA compliant and fully accessible to people who use wheelchairs. He invited me to come look at the bathroom and let him know if it did indeed meet requirements necessary for someone to transfer over to the commode.

            I stopped by the school earlier this week and was pleased that the stall divider between the accessible stall and the one beside it had been taken out and replaced with a thicker, sturdier divider. A horizontal transfer bar ran from behind the toilet to the side. (**Please see photos at bottom of article**) I went to the main office and the Headmaster came out to apologize again to me, this time in person. He commented that any time I see something that isn’t accessible or needs improvement, to please contact him so it can be dealt with immediately. I told him the only change in the bathroom I’d like to see at this point is a vertical bar above the horizontal one. For me, my upper body is regressing and I’m also a heavier person, so I grab onto both bars to transfer – it’s simply safer for me.

            It’s important to me that people know how the school dealt with this situation. I didn’t have to say anything to them. The school took the initiative. They responded quickly and reached out to me, not only apologizing for my experience but inviting me to make sure they’d fixed the problem. This solidified my faith in this school. In a world where so often, the disability community must fight for rights, accommodations, etc., it’s nice and reassuring that there’s people and places that will act quickly and with compassion simply because it’s the right thing to do.  

 

 

 

 

 

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School’s Inaccessibility Causes Bathroom Blunder

            It was meant to be a very special day at my daughter’s school. And, for the most part, it was. Her school recently had a day where the students were encouraged to invite friends and family members to watch a short concert and enjoy a reception afterwards. To my knowledge, I’m the only parent/caregiver in a power chair. I’ve always been impressed with the school’s accessibility. The floorplans are laid out where everything flows and if there’s a dip in levels, ramps are in place. There is also an elevator connecting the two floors. Until the day of the concert, I’d assumed the school was completely wheelchair accessible.

            I’m on a medication that acts as an extremely heavy diuretic in order to flush my body of its spinal fluid (my body no longer absorbs its spinal fluid so the danger is its ability to build up in/around the brain and spinal column). During the first song the children sang, I started feeling as though I needed to go to the bathroom. But didn’t want to make a scene leaving as I was sitting in front of the bleachers and would also have to get my Service Dog up and out with me. So, I sat there thinking I’d just make a quick getaway when I could. But each song led into another until I was hurting, I had to pee so bad! Finally, the principal dismissed the students and families and we all bled out into the hallway. I quickly went to a bathroom but upon opening the outer door, I realized I couldn’t even get my chair through. So, I backed into the hallway and headed towards another bathroom. This time, my chair got in, but there were no stalls big enough for me to use (not only needing to fit my power chair but also my Service Dog). I left that bathroom and saw some kids in the hallway. I asked them where there was a handicap bathroom and they pointed me in another direction. I got so excited until I realized the stall was long but not wide, meaning I’d drive up right in front of the toilet and need to spin around to use the bathroom – impossible.

            I grew increasingly uneasy, not just physically but mentally and emotionally. How hard was it to find an accessible bathroom? Why was this simple need so difficult to fulfill? I knew of one more bathroom I could try so quickly made my way there. And, there it was! A stall big enough for me and my Dog!! I pulled up beside the commode and shut the chair off, relieved to finally be able to use the bathroom! And then I reached for the transfer bar… that wasn’t there. My heart sunk; my face fell. I turned my chair back on and left the bathroom, tears forming in my eyes. In the 15-20 minutes I’d been searching for a place to pee, the other women who’d been lined up at different bathrooms were no longer there, having been able to easily satisfy a basic human function. I felt alone and inadequate, separate and different.

            I went to the main office and as I began explaining my dilemma to the secretary, I started sobbing. My pelvic area hurt; my pride hurt; my dignity was aching as well. She didn’t know what to do so she called the school nurse. The nurse came to the front office and tried to calm me down. I was told that she could help me use the bathroom but that was not the solution I was looking for. She told me she did this all the time when she worked in hospitals; I responded that I wasn’t in a hospital; I’m an adult mother who uses the restroom by myself and this was unacceptable to me. But there obviously was no other way for me to relieve myself so I went with the nurse down the hallway, passing students and their guests, towards the bathroom. I felt humiliated. It seemed like it was glaringly apparent to everyone who saw us enter that I’m incapable of using the bathroom unaided. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. It wasn’t that I had limitations in this area; the school did. But I wasn’t going to stop each person I passed to explain the situation; I simply swallowed my pride, my dignity, my capable self and let the nurse come into the bathroom with me.

            What ultimately had to happen for me to go the bathroom was the nurse not only helping me stand but her pulling down my pants and underwear while I held onto the top of the stall. She then had to pull my underwear and pants back up for me and help me back into the chair. To say I was mortified is putting it lightly. This should not have happened. There should have been transfer bars in the stall to allow me the dignity to use the bathroom privately just as every other student and adult did that day. My daughter and I are already different enough, and I was heartbroken that students had seen their nurse go into the bathroom with me – I didn’t want my having to pee end with negative consequences for my little girl. Kids can be cruel. Furthermore, the kids see their parents and adult friends in roles of authority, control and an all-around sense of what being a grown-up means. I want them to see me that way, too. Because it’s true – I am in a position of authority. And while we as adults don’t truly have control, it’s a natural assumption of a child to think that we do.

            Once I finished using the restroom, I had missed nearly the entire reception. I found my daughter and sat with her for about five minutes while she finished eating. She wanted to know where I had been and why I hadn’t joined her until that moment. I told her I had to use the restroom and she exclaimed how long it had taken me. I didn’t have the heart to tell her the nurse had to help me; she probably would have been confused as to why. She knows I can go to the bathroom by myself.

            I plan on meeting with the Dean of students. I intend to discuss this event with him and suggest necessary changes. I want this to be a moment of education for the school. This was not something that happened because I’m disabled. This happened because the school does not have the adequate and acceptable structures in place for someone like me. I may be their first disabled parent but I’m pretty sure I wont be their last. And I don’t want another parent to feel like I felt emotionally, mentally and physically that day. I don’t want them to miss out on an activity with their child because the school is not equipped for them.

 

Not Ya Mama’s Cookin’!

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Like many others, I grew up watching sitcoms on television that depicted joyful, loving families who’d sit down together for meals that were often cooked by the mother. I had no idea that I was learning anything; I simply watched for my enjoyment. But, I was learning life-lessons about family dynamics, familial norms and expectations of motherhood.

Now that I’m a mom, I realize that these lessons learned subconsciously have caused me quite a bit of discomfort in myself as well as guilt and shame about my own ability (read: inability) to perform the expected duties of a mother. Due to my physical disability, my household doesn’t follow societal ‘norms.’ We have our own ‘normal.’ But although I’m aware of that, I nonetheless experience undeserved and unnecessary guilt because I’ve inadvertently placed expectations on myself as a parent; expectations I’m not able to live up to.

photo credit: iStock/CSA-Archive

Most recently, as my body has deteriorated, I’ve stopped being able to cook in our inaccessible kitchen. I started ordering deliveries from pizza places and delicatessens and we began to pick up more and more fast food. I knew my young child was no longer getting healthy meals and therefore was not consuming the necessary nutrients she needed for her holistic growth. But I felt helpless to change the situation. Until one evening, as I watched her eating yet another slice of pizza, I thought, “It’s my responsibility as her mom to make sure she eats healthy. If I can’t cook myself, then it’s still my responsibility to find a way for her to be healthy.”

The next day, I went about a month-long process of info-gathering. I searched for businesses that would deliver healthy, pre-cooked meals to our home. I finally narrowed the list down to two places, one national and one local. My daughter and I decided to try the local company first. We ordered only 2 meals, so we could try them and decide if we liked the food. We did!! So that week, I placed an order for a week’s worth of dinners to be delivered the following Monday.

When Monday dawned, I felt excited but also extremely nervous. I assumed that when the meals came, and I placed them in our fridge, I’d feel guilty that I wasn’t the one who provided them. But, the food came, and I placed the containers in our refrigerator and sat there staring into it at the shelf full of correctly-proportioned, healthy meals. I realized, maybe I wasn’t the one who cooked all this, but I am the one who provided it! I’m the one who did all the research into the various companies who offer food delivery services. I’m the one who ordered the meals. I fulfilled my responsibility as a mom to provide my daughter with healthy food!!

Many times, for me, it’s all about my perspective. When I find myself feeling negative about a situation, there’s nearly always a way to turn my attention to other aspects of it and see the positive side. I don’t need to follow societal norms! I’m not obligated to live up to anyone’s expectations! My parenting shouldn’t be judged based on how I get things done but rather that I do! My daughter and I have been eating delicious, healthy meals now for 3 weeks and I’m proud of myself for getting this done, for making the changes necessary to ensure that her needs are met.

 

*If you’d like a list of companies that deliver healthy, proportioned, precooked meals, feel free to email me at the address listed on this site.*