Content starts here
CLOSE ×

Search

AARP AARP States Oregon Caregiving

WHO’S Singin’ in the Rain? – The Thin Edge of Dignity

Rainfall



By Dick Weinman

When the rain crashed down, blowing wildly sideways, bouncing off of my yellow-covered bicycle helmet – tap-tap-tap - spattering bullet-like against my yellow, goretex rainsuit, sliding off my shin-high black rubber rain boots , I’d whisk my bike out of the garage, and head into the face-pounding wind. WHEE! I’d sing in the storm.

Or. . .

When the rain pummeled my face as my skis cut through the heavy, wet snow, exploding bunches of white slush in their wake, and I slumped my shoulders forward over the water bubbled ski tips, rocking my knees side-to-side – WOWEE! I’d yell to the hill.

But. . .

Now, that I travel by wheelchair, when it sprinkles – I say S___!

When I’m in a wheelchair and it’s the lightest moisture on the tier of the precipitation table, I don’t want to sing. Cursing is more satisfactory.

Most likely, I’m going with a friend for coffee. In order to transfer into his/her car, I have to stand up from my wheelchair, which leaves the cushion I sit on all day exposed to the tiny droplets to absorb the falling water – No. It doesn’t bounce off. While said friend is hustling to toss the cushion in the back seat of the car, I’m back-seating, sliding across the leather seat – of course only one friend has leather seats to slide over, so I bounce along on Velcro-like cloth seats, while the rest of the wheelchair gets wet. It will be wiped and dried when I return from the coffee shop. As will I. Too bad a change of clothes and a warm shower doesn’t occur until the night.

I recall how it was “back-in-the-day”, when I’d return home, take a hot bath, two Vitamin C pills and an Echinacea, and change into dry clothes.

It’s worse when I’m being pushed to a point of destination. There’s no running between rain drops. I sit. My friend pushes. We both get wet. (Though not my cushion – my butt covers it.) He/she shakes off in the destination. I sit in my chair. He/she showers and changes when he/she gets home. I wait for my scheduled time.

But the worst, wet weather scenario is when I fly the regional air carriers. To board the plane, my fellow passengers and I must board from the tarmac. We enter the cabin door by climbing a shaky ladder to the entrance. Hey! I live in Oregon, where it rains a lot. The drops drip from my hair, under the collar of my shirt, which when wet, clings to my skin.

Even though I’m a wheelchair traveler, I still have to climb the steps. It’s is a slow, painful, awkward (“don’t forget to duck your wet head”) climb. I manage to duck in, but my chair – cushion included – dumbly sits on the tarmac, watching me climb, while it soaks.

Who wants to sing?

For tips on traveling with a disability click here.

Planning travel with a disability

About AARP Oregon
Contact information and more from your state office. Learn what we are doing to champion social change and help you live your best life.