Day Two - The Shopping Centre
Well, what an exercise in frustration! I wasn't expecting the trip to the shopping centre to be too bad - foreseeing, in fact, an advantage in a crowded place, in that people would rush to get out of my way!
Which, I should say, they did. Never have I had such a clear path through Westfield Parramatta as we did yesterday! Amazingly, the service even improved - sales people were so much friendlier (even in Oroton, where they usually just look at me haughtily, assuming (quite correctly) that I will not actually be purchasing, just fingering the merchandise wistfully), and a security guard came over as we were reading the directory, and not only told us where the Body Shop was, but the most direct wheelchair friendly route. Very impressive.
Unfortunately, everyone still looks at you - pityingly, embarrassed, and trying very hard not to look at you. Or maybe I'm still a little over-sensitive on that one.
The whole trip started out badly, actually. Mama, or Learner Driver (LD), got excited early as she got the hang of the whole wheelchair pushing thing, and set off at an extremely brisk clop. After screeching for her to SlOW DOWN (an interesting role reversal from when she taught me to drive), we continued on more sedately, realising we'd chosen the wrong side of the road - the old, decrepit, bumpy side (yup, still not enjoying the bumps).
Now, I am completely useless still. Most people in wheelchairs can wheel themselves around and still have quite a bit of movement - they're just unable to walk. Me, I still can't even twist. So I am completely, COMPLETELY dependent on Mama when we go out in the chair. And complete dependence is not something I'm either used to or enjoy...
The major problem comes from the fact that we are both facing forwards. So if I say something, Mama can't actually hear me, so leans forward and repeats what she thinks I've just said. Yes, much like you do with a small child or someone with a mental disability. And I am not special, I'm just currently not ambulatory.
Also, Mama just has no appreciation for shoes or handbags. Incomprehensible, but true. So everytime we pass a display, I want to slow down and Mama just keeps zooming past. If I say something, she assumes I want to go right in - which is how we ended up in Oroton, where I'm usually content to peer in through the window. And you can't just slink out of a shop when you have such a wide turning circle. And did I mention the friendly sales staff?
It is completely impossible to browse in a wheelchair. For one thing, your line of vision is about a metre below everyone else's. Further, I was completely unable to pick anything up unaided (can't stretch to reach anything), and then, if I am aided, completely unable to put anything back again. So, unless you know exactly what you want and where you want to get it from, shopping loses a lot of its serendipity in a wheelchair.
People do get out of your way though. And the credit card and health care fund spruikers resolutely avoided my eye.
Which, I should say, they did. Never have I had such a clear path through Westfield Parramatta as we did yesterday! Amazingly, the service even improved - sales people were so much friendlier (even in Oroton, where they usually just look at me haughtily, assuming (quite correctly) that I will not actually be purchasing, just fingering the merchandise wistfully), and a security guard came over as we were reading the directory, and not only told us where the Body Shop was, but the most direct wheelchair friendly route. Very impressive.
Unfortunately, everyone still looks at you - pityingly, embarrassed, and trying very hard not to look at you. Or maybe I'm still a little over-sensitive on that one.
The whole trip started out badly, actually. Mama, or Learner Driver (LD), got excited early as she got the hang of the whole wheelchair pushing thing, and set off at an extremely brisk clop. After screeching for her to SlOW DOWN (an interesting role reversal from when she taught me to drive), we continued on more sedately, realising we'd chosen the wrong side of the road - the old, decrepit, bumpy side (yup, still not enjoying the bumps).
Now, I am completely useless still. Most people in wheelchairs can wheel themselves around and still have quite a bit of movement - they're just unable to walk. Me, I still can't even twist. So I am completely, COMPLETELY dependent on Mama when we go out in the chair. And complete dependence is not something I'm either used to or enjoy...
The major problem comes from the fact that we are both facing forwards. So if I say something, Mama can't actually hear me, so leans forward and repeats what she thinks I've just said. Yes, much like you do with a small child or someone with a mental disability. And I am not special, I'm just currently not ambulatory.
Also, Mama just has no appreciation for shoes or handbags. Incomprehensible, but true. So everytime we pass a display, I want to slow down and Mama just keeps zooming past. If I say something, she assumes I want to go right in - which is how we ended up in Oroton, where I'm usually content to peer in through the window. And you can't just slink out of a shop when you have such a wide turning circle. And did I mention the friendly sales staff?
It is completely impossible to browse in a wheelchair. For one thing, your line of vision is about a metre below everyone else's. Further, I was completely unable to pick anything up unaided (can't stretch to reach anything), and then, if I am aided, completely unable to put anything back again. So, unless you know exactly what you want and where you want to get it from, shopping loses a lot of its serendipity in a wheelchair.
People do get out of your way though. And the credit card and health care fund spruikers resolutely avoided my eye.
posted by Jessie at 1:29 pm
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