Have you ever seen a handicapped person in public? It's hard to look away, isn't it? That's because our brains tend to latch onto things that seem out of the ordinary. As a result, I've found myself staring a second too long at people in a wheelchair, on crutches, or even with a simple cane, and I'm sure you do it, too. It's just how our brains work.
At the same time, I think we've grown a little used to the adaptation of our environments to fit handicapped people's needs. There are always handicap parking spots. There's always one stall in the bathroom a little bigger than the others. Many public buildings have buttons that automatically open the doors for people who have to use their hands for their crutches or their wheelchair. And we don't really notice these things in the same way we do the people who need them.
I've always been one to use the handicapped door buttons or snag the handicapped stall in the bathroom because in both instances it was pretty awesome to do so. I got the convenience of not having to open the door and also the pleasure of enough space in the bathroom stall to feel a more real sense of privacy. I was, what I've come to call, a handicap abuser. I didn't hit handicapped people, but I abused the facilities that existed for them and only them. Luckily, I never opened the door in a way that made any handicapped person around me have to wait even longer to open while it closed or used the bathroom while a handicapped person waited on me, but what if one of those instances had happened?
A month and a half ago, I broke my foot and have been stuck on one of these things ever since:
As a result, I can't stand on two feet to use the bathroom like I normally did, and I can't fit in a regular size stall without leaving my scooter outside of it. I need a parking spot that has space to get my scooter in and out without me falling. And I experienced something that's taught me a valuable lesson:
At a track meet, I needed to use the restroom. I went into the bathroom to find all of the stalls empty except the handicapped one. So, I sat on the seat of my scooter and waited. Five minutes went by, then 10, then 15, and finally after 20 or so minutes of waiting, an able-bodied young man, who couldn't have been more than 16, came strolling out of the stall like nothing had happened. At which point, another able-bodied guy who had just come into the bathroom, tried to dart to the stall and use it himself. I literally had to roll toward him and tell him to use another stall so I could use the one and only toilet in that complex that was built for me to be able to use.
Y'all, if you're not handicapped, please don't use handicapped people's stuff. You really just don't know when you'll have a person who really needs it show up and have to wait on you. We need help, so please, help us.
