Most able-bodied people barely think twice about entering buildings and making plans. I was the same, until I had my little accident that landed me in a scooter for five weeks. When I got the scooter, my mom told me that the lady she rented it from said I would realize how un-handicap accessible everything was. How right she is. The list so far includes my house (stairs at every entrance), the Union (same boat), and most buildings to an extent. Sure, some have exterior doors with handicap buttons, but some interior doors either have buttons that don’t work, or no buttons at all. It was really awkward when I go through one set of doors, only to be held up by the second. Thank goodness a police officer in the building saw me and came to my rescue.

For the most part, if someone sees people on crutches or in a wheelchair or with a scooter, they’ll hold the door open, or ask if they need help getting their food in the dining court, but sometimes there aren’t always people around. In order to wheel my way into my residence hall, I have to go in the back door, which is technically closer to campus, but I have yet to figure out the exterior handicap button, and then there are three sets of interior doors that do not have handicap buttons that I have to maneuver my little one-leg-four-wheel-two-braked self through. At one of these, I have to manage to swipe myself in, and open the door before it locks again. Not exactly easy.

The elevators are pretty easy, but they’re really hard to turn around in, so I either back in, with the help of a friend because I don’t have mirrors (hello, dork alert), or I just wheel in, lift my right leg up, and scoot the scooter so that I can easily go out the doors once I reach my floor.

I thought my dorm room was small before. It’s really small now. I have two crutches and the scooter, along with all of the usual college stuff such as two beds, desks, chairs, closets, and one fridge (under my roommate’s bed). I managed to move some stuff around under my bed and find a space that fits my scooter perfectly, so that was a relief.

I have to literally plan my day around my scooter. I can no longer just walk out the door and go where I want to go and do what I want to do. I have to think about which buildings I’m going to, whether or not there is a handicapped entrance, and whether I can successfully take my scooter everywhere, or if I’m better off just using crutches.

The fact that Purdue has the bus loops that run regularly (Sloop every 5 minutes) is probably the greatest thing for me. Everyone says not to ride it in the winter, but I’m probably going to have to, just hopefully not with the scooter. The issue with the buses is that yes they are kneeling buses, and yes they have ramps, but both of those take time, and a 5-minute space before the next bus is a lot of pressure for the driver to have to get out and fold the ramp out, wait for me to roll on, and then fold the ramp back out and get back into his seat and start driving again. I’ve always tried to be self-sufficient and I hate making people wait on me, and I still hate having to constantly rely on others for help with something that used to be as simple as walking up, grabbing the handle, and pulling.

I do know, however, that things could be worse. For example, at certain landmarks around the world such as the Neuschwanstein Castle in Germany, handicap accessibility is barely thought of. There are signs that basically tell you that you might not be able to make it up the mountain if you are handicapped. There also aren’t always laws that these issues have to be fixed. Some places have the attitude that you are either physically able to go, or you just don’t go.

In about a month, I’ll be able to go back to living pretty much how I was, walking up staircases, opening doors, as well as other currently difficult or annoying things without thinking twice about it.

But until then, don’t get me started on how bumpy, uneven, and holey the sidewalks are.