Imagine my surprise when I arrived Monday night and found only stairs -- three steps -- leading up to the front door. The taxi driver and I looked for a wheelchair entrance and couldn't find one. I was too dizzy to stand so I crawled up the steps and got into my chair. That was fun. This was also during the height of the storm
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Mike now needs a wheelchair for long events (like, say, doing Halloween Horror Nights this last Sunday), and I'm getting a taste of what you go through. It's terrible. You've always had my sympathies on this shit, but I have a better appreciation for it. ((hug))
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But I also found out that federal employees have a really good grasp of accessibility problems and will discreetly point out alternatives, in addition to making general announcements to make sure everyone knows their options. Even better was the absolute lack of argument with my judgement when I decided I was in good enough shape to do one of the non-accessable trails at Carlsbad Caverns. (I had been mildly worried about being treated like a child, but it never happened.) Mind you, my knee was pretty cranky after 8 stories of up and down steep ramps and occasional stairs, but it was glorious, and I'm not sorry I did it.
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