Yeah, it’s been over two years since I posted anything on here, I know. (I actually did not realize it had been that long.) And I have like four other projects I should be working on, but this also wasn’t something I ever expected to write so here goes.
For reasons that I’m not going to go into, because this isn’t Universal and we don’t make people disclose their medical conditions (yes, I went there), I’ve spent the last several months alternating between crutches and a wheelchair. I’m down to one crutch now, but I hope to be able to get rid of it soon for short distances and just use the wheelchair for long ones.
And I know, the idea that I would use a wheelchair sometimes but not all of the time seems like blasphemy to some. I eventually won’t need the crutch, and I’ll just need the chair for longer adventures like the theme parks. Because, as my friend Pink has to frequently tell me, disability is fluid. It’s not the same every day or every situation. And there may be the day where you see me without a crutch, then I have it the next time. I keep one and the wheelchair in my car for a reason, and I occasionally switch between the two.
Chelsea, you’re injured. This could be temporary. You shouldn’t call yourself disabled.
Well, I’ve been walking with a limp for over half my life. While that hasn’t stopped me from running stupidly long distances for fun until now, it doesn’t change that fundamental fact. This has been part of who I am for as long as I can remember. It’s just more noticeable to everyone else now.
People get weird and gate keepy about labels, like you’re somehow taking away from someone else by admitting your body doesn’t work exactly the way it should. I have news for you. The Magic Kingdom will have the exact same amount of wheelchair viewing space for fireworks whether I use it or not. And yeah, me using it could mean it fills up and there’s not space for someone else, but that’s on the park. Not me. You don’t have to prove you need or deserve the space. You just need a wheelchair, and you can rent them for $12 at the front of the park.
So, what’s the point in all of this?
I’ve been screaming into the void on social media today about how tired I am of being asked when I’ll be off the crutches. And when I get done with the crutches, I know the next question will be, “Why are you still using a wheelchair?” I don’t have an answer, and frankly, I’m done trying to explain myself.
That being said. I’m really, really darn good at explaining things. I don’t want to say I have a gift, because good grief that sounds pretentious, but writing is the thing in this world I do best. I have a platform and a voice, and I’m going to use it to try to put some perspective into the world on why you shouldn’t ask someone, “How much longer until you can walk?”
Like seriously, how anyone thinks that’s an okay thing to ask is beyond me. “How’s the depression going? Any anxiety attacks lately?”
It’s also been a big flip going from someone who knows every shortcut through the parks to someone who has to figure out where all the accessible points are. I’ve never hated curbs and textured pavement more. Once upon a time, I literally made it from Seven Dwarfs Mine Train to First Aid and back in less than ten minutes, Band-Aids in hand. Now I get into the new Starbucks in Epcot and realize I have to go back out and around the building to the side door because there are stairs for some stupid reason. And yes, I could get up and limp down the stairs but it’s not easy.
And there are people in this world that the chair is their only choice. And maybe they’ve never been to Orlando, or maybe they’ve been to Orlando a hundred times, but that was a year ago and now they need a wheelchair. And if I’ve learned anything in the past few months, it’s been that just because something is ADA compliant, that doesn’t mean it’s easy to work with.
So, coming soon. Over the next, I want to say months, but again I have four other projects I should be writing on so this could take a while, I’m going to be publishing accessibility guides for the Orlando theme parks. My plan is to cover Disney, Universal, SeaWorld, Busch Gardens, and eventually the water parks. If someone wants to hook me up with tickets to somewhere else, I’ll be happy to write those too.
I’m going to talk about what rides you have to transfer for, how transfers work, how non-transfers work, wheelchair viewing for shows, which bathrooms absolutely suck (well, for the women’s, at least) what curbs to watch out for, and anything else I can think of. I wrote what is probably the most thorough guide to a Disney Cruise Line wedding in existence. Imagine what I can do when I don’t have wedding brain and nothing but time.
I’m not going to promise a publication date, but the first installment will talk about if you need to get a wheelchair and don’t have one currently, whether you’re renting or buying.
See ya real soon!
