Well, anyone who knows me, will realise that I am 100% serious. I never have my tongue in my cheek, nor write farcical blogs. Now we’ve established that. Let me outline an important issue that has come to my attention. I was reading on a wheelie site about how to greet a fellow wheelie when out and about.
Now this is an issue that has given me must angst. I never know what’s right. For anyone who is not a wheelchair user, picture the scene. You are out in your wheelchair. You may be in a powered wheelchair. Or being pushed. You may even be self-propelling. Hold on, the motive force is irrelevant. Then you see a wheelchair coming the other way. What do you do? In between feeling awkward and panicking that is.
If you were on your feet and walking along. You could do what most people in that situation do. Pretend your eye level is too high to notice the wheelchair. We are literally out of your sightline. Job done; embarrassing situation averted. No need to think of a suitable reaction. Well, I can’t do that. Even if I wanted to. I am looking straight at the oncoming stranger. They just happen to also be in a wheelchair. Is that some kind of kinship? An automatic bond. A fellowship of the wheel? All friends together. United in our common limitations? How do I react? What do I say?
So, a wheelchair is heading towards me. I needed to repeat that as it was so long ago I last mentioned it. Who is in it? Does it matter anyway? If it was a famous person, or Royalty. The Queen has a fancy golf cart now. So, it could be her, out for a spin in another new bit of equipment. Maybe it’s someone I know. Scrub that. I don’t know anyone local to me in a wheelchair. A stranger is wheeling towards me at speed. Actually, that’s unlikely. They are probably wheeling towards me slowly. I have lots of time to consider my actions. Oh, the angst.
Have you got the scene in your mind? Let me mess that up and add some extra detail. The most likely time I might meet a fellow wheelie is on a wide and straight promenade. As in alongside a beach. Now you are all in the South of France or Spain, sun beating down. Cool off a bit. This is the Northeast of England.
Back to reality. I am wheeling slowly towards a fellow wheelie along the promenade. This is sounding like a Hollywood movie. You’re picturing a romantic moment of meeting. The music swelling. But that is not the right image at all. I am approaching a complete stranger. Unless it is the Queen. I feel like I know her. She’s on my stamps and money. No, its not the queen. Let’s not be silly.
Do I smile, pull a face, ignore them, frown, scowl, say something? Hang on a second, who said that? I am British and an introvert to boot. Maybe there is a secret greeting for two wheelchair users. Are we like the Masons? Do we have a coded wheel bump, or twirl of the chairs that we are meant to do? Is there just a double right eyed wink? That could be tricky if you get it wrong. Just imagine you all take me literally and start doing that. I really need to know what to do.
Answers on a postcard to, ‘WheelsUp, Confused Row, Bea MY M8
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