There are many
worthy challenges going around social media these days. Come to think about it, a lot of unworthy
ones too. But let’s stick to the
positive – The Ice Bucket Challenge for ALS, the Push-up Challenge to honor
those who served and No Shave November for prostate cancer – these challenges,
however brief, can effectively spotlight a problem. One that caught my attention was A Wheelchair
for a Day. When I came across it, my
first thought was, “How did I not think of that?!”
Any architect who
works in public spaces must know about accessibility issues, as they have been
addressed by various laws and codes for the last several decades, including the
Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 (ADA).
It didn’t actually begin there, but the ADA is perhaps the best known law
(The Architectural Barriers Act of 1968 preceded it as denoted in its
name). However, in our practice’s emphasis
on Senior Living design, there is a much higher concentration of end users who
require some form of mobility aid in a lot of our work. This could be a wheelchair, a scooter, a cane
or a walker. In areas of nursing care,
close to 100% of the residents will be confined to a wheelchair. In these cases, the traditional large rear-wheeled
chair will not be of any use because these folks lack the upper body strength
to move under their own power.
With twenty years
of experience and in my capacity for being the office “Code Guy”, I feel confident
can readily see accessibility clearances in architectural plans or the built
environment, especially when those clearances are infringed upon. I don’t really have to think about it too
much; I liken it to being about to “see the Matrix” if you get my movie
reference. So I know the requirements we
need to impart on the built environment, but how about the “Why”? In theory, I thought I had a pretty good
handle, but I wanted to test myself.
Our firm’s
partnership was behind my desire to spend a typical day in the office in a
wheelchair and it was suggested that I consider a motorized scooter as
well. Our current office is only a few
years old, and as such has been designed to comply with all current
accessibility standards. Additionally,
as our client base includes many senior living communities, we certainly want
to be as inclusive as we can be. Our old
office was on three levels with no elevator.
The current office is all on one level.
My initial thought was that this should be relatively easy.
Day 1 – The
Transport Wheelchair
I was able to
borrow a wheelchair without any problem due to our firm’s close relationship
with a nearby senior living community.
My ride of choice was what is called a transport wheelchair. It is lightweight and folds easily. It
does not have the big rear wheel and it is what most residents in a skilled
care or nursing home environment will spend most of their time in when they are
not in a more comfortable stationary chair.
This meant that to move around, I would use my feet not unlike Fred
Flintstone powered his car. You may
think this is a cheat, but it isn’t really.
My grandmother spent a lot of time in a chair just like this as her
health declined due to Alzheimer’s Disease and was able to shuffle just as I
described. Additionally, my mother-in-law
also has utilized the same kind of mobility device since a stroke left her
uneasy on her feet and without the full use of her left hand. And after spending 20 years designing skilled
nursing facilities, I know that this chair is far more common in these kinds of
environments than the more independent version.
So while this chair has foot rests, they were to remain folded up for
the better part of the day.
I had not spent any
time in the chair before I arrived at the office. The chair was folded neatly in my trunk, so I
felt that once I opened the chair and sat down in the parking lot, that would
be the official start to my day in a wheelchair. The first challenge was the hatch to my
Subaru Outback – its height over my head was a stretch. Being otherwise able bodied I was able to
shift my body to get one hand high enough to clutch the hatch to close it, but
a much shorter person may not have had the reach. So immediately after sitting down, I had a
different perspective. Even though I was
taking this challenge, I did not park in one of the close, handicap spaces, so
I had fifty yards of ground to make up with all of my stuff in my lap – I had
my lunch, my computer bag and my coffee (non-spill thankfully) – my normal
array. As I shuffled towards the back
door, other employees thoughtfully asked if I needed some help at the door, but
I was determined to do every task myself.
I asked that they go ahead and just let the door close behind them.
I knew that all the
doors in our office would be of an approved size and have the proper clearances
(for instance, 18 inches clear on the pull side of the door). However, when pulling a door towards you,
even with more than 18 inches in play, one’s feet (and footrests) will
invariably still knock into the bottom rail of the door. A lightbulb moment: there is a code requirement that all doors be
smooth for the bottom 10 inches – you can’t place trim or molding below this
measurement, and you can't transition to a glass panel in that area
either. This is important so that your
feet tangle as little as possible with the bottom rail of the door. But aside from the foot banging, I did not
have much issues with getting into the building.
There is a good reason that the door is solid at the bottom and the sidelights are not. |
A typical day
includes me dropping my bag lunch off in the refrigerator near the
lunchroom. We have a French door
refrigerator with the freezer on the bottom.
That means while the doors into the fridge can be swung out of the way
easily, very few of the shelves are at a comfortable height for someone in a
wheelchair. We have about 70 people in
the office and one fridge for lunches – it’s always full. I had to shift some of the 10 mustard bottles
around to make a space out on the door shelf – luckily my packed lunch is
normally fairly compact.
My desk is
literally the furthest point in the office from the back door – 294 feet in fact. I had not considered this before I sat down in
my chair. We also have some pretty sweet
reclaimed wood floors which are nice and smooth. The problem is in the throw rugs. Anyone who has run a vacuum cleaner into a
throw rug knows the issue. The rug
itself is a bit of a jolt and it can tend to buckle on itself when the wheels
hit it creating an even larger bump. The
rugs are only in the more central areas of the office and I was able to make
the transition as I shuffled myself forward towards my desk. I never knew 300 feet could be that far. By the time I got to my desk my hamstrings
burned at bit. It wasn’t even 8 AM.
Getting to my desk,
there were fewer obstacles. Our aisles
are wide enough, although I forgot to move my office chair out of the way of my
desk. This was a bit of a challenge;
positioning myself in the wheelchair in such a way that I could move the big
bulky chair out of my workspace without slamming it into myself. But it had to be done, I was not transferring
to the other chair to work at my desk.
But once that was removed, I found my desk space to be big enough for me
to get around. My desk is U-shaped with
an open area of 42” x 66”. We normally
provide a turning space a minimum of 5 feet in diameter, but the open space
under my desk provided adequate knee space to make a full 360 degree turn. As I was more or less able-bodied above the
waist on this day, I found gripping the countertop useful in to swivel myself
around without needing to use my feet so much.
Turning my computer
on was no problem. However, at over 30
inches deep our workstations are a bit deeper than the typical 24 inches. This is due to the drawings we produce which
are 30 by 42 inches. Makes sense
right? But as architects we talk about
side approach reach for people in a wheelchair, meaning if the chair is
parallel to the counter, how far is one able to reach? At about 24 inches away, one can reach about
8 inches above the countertop maximum. My
book shelf is further away than 24 inches, and the shelf is more than a foot
above the counter. It was a stretch for
me, but again, for someone smaller with shorter arms, not possible. I also tend to leave some books on top of the
divider which is 27 inches above the countertop. So when I needed my ANSI Standard for
Accessible and Usable Buildings and Facilities, that book was inaccessible to
me. The irony was not lost on me and,
fittingly, my first question of the day related to accessible storage. I needed that book!
Early in the day I
started to carry a notepad around to jot down my challenges (one of them being
nowhere to put anything - including a notepad).
So I had a number of things I was trying to keep with me as I moved
around the office, including said notepad and pen, tape measure, my phone and
my coffee. It was a lot of stuff to have
in my lap while still doing my normal gig.
I went over to the copy machine which I found to be an acceptable
height. It even had a touch screen that
could tilt to a proper angle for someone in a seated position. However, I noticed the extra paper would have
to be loaded by someone else; it is far too high in wall cabinets behind the
copier itself – no access.
Even though the
idea of our one story office was to facilitate face to face interaction of the
staff all day long, I found myself utilizing email and phone calls to those in
the office far more frequently on this day.
I normally walk over to talk to someone – I prefer that. But it just seemed so far away today…and
crap! I left my coffee at the stupid
copier. Arrgh! Pretty soon, I found that shuffling backwards to get from point A to point B
was far more natural and less taxing on the legs. I immediately recalled seeing this action by
residents in the skilled care facilities I have worked in. Duh, why didn’t I remember that?
After an hour or
two at my desk, I noticed that I kept trying to pull myself closer to the countertop
than I actually could achieve. I kept knocking into the edge of the counter: not
with my knees, but with the bar that forms the armrest structure. I noticed on my ‘other’ office chair, I have
the armrests positioned pretty low so they run underneath the counter. My wheelchair, like most, did not have
adjustable armrests, and the aluminum tube forming the structure for the
armrest started out several inches in front of the actual armrest pad, so it
impeded my ability to get any closer. My
countertop height and clearance below it met all accessibility
requirements: it provides 27.5 inches
clearance where the minimum for knee space is 27. In order to get closer, I would have needed
29 inches to allow the armrest to pass under the counter. I mentioned that to the individual who loaned
me the wheelchair and she said it’s a very common frustration in their health
center at dinner. Residents can't get
quite near enough to their dinner plate at a standard sized table. I totally got it. Adjustable height tables are available, but
they are expensive and less easy for staff to use and move around. They typically don’t get adjusted much after
they are set in place. And the standard
height of a table is 30 inches which means it would be tough to get 29 inches
clear beneath it.
I did my best to
move around as little as possible, but by this time it was almost noon and I
had yet to use the facilities. I am not
going to get graphic here so don’t worry. But I will say this: I had no issue getting into the bathroom nor
did I have any trouble turning around and getting the wheelchair alongside the
plumbing fixture. Once in position,
however, I had absolutely no idea what to do next. I sat there thinking about how I was supposed
to transfer my body, using the regulation grab bars on the wall, from the
wheelchair to the toilet seat, all without any use of my legs. My ANSI Commentary book even has diagrams in
plan view as to how this supposedly happens, but I still couldn’t quite figure
it out. Let’s just say I am sure I
cheated a little bit in this one task.
So with that behind
me, it was time for lunch. I normally retrieve
my bag lunch and a water, take it back to my desk and read the news on my
computer. Having placed my lunch successfully
earlier that morning I was fairly certain I could retrieve it, as long as no
one moved it, which does happen, but fortunately had not occurred this time. We have a second refrigerator that is only
for drinks, which I opened. I
immediately felt much smaller than normal.
I was able to reach my seltzer of choice in the middle shelf with a bit
of stretching, but as one of my coworkers so kindly put it, “no Diet Coke for
you!” as it was on the top shelf. On my
way back to my desk I went by the mailboxes.
My box is luckily in a middle area, but it was still impossible to tell
if anything was in it without reaching my hand into it due to my vantage
point. Our boxes are in alphabetical
order; thank heaven my last name does not start with A or B! Oh, when I finally got back to my desk, I had
forgotten my fork. I had to go all the
way back to the lunchroom and didn’t bother coming back to my desk to eat.
I am one of those
people who brushes his teeth at the office after lunch. So I went back to the bathroom. Our sink is open underneath, as it should be
in a public bathroom. But we often
provide side approach clearance to a sink in an apartment residence so I
decided to test this out (there was a trash can in the clear space but I could
have moved that). It was harder than I
thought. Washing your hands sideways is
way different than trying to spit sideways.
I felt like I was at the dentist office and trying to hit that little
bowl off to the side. I always leave the
dentist office with a wet shoulder. Even
when I switched to a front approach, I found it difficult to capture water in
my cupped hand and get it to my mouth in order to rinse. Again, the chair’s armrest did not let me get
as close to the sink as I would have liked.
It was like that relay race you did as a kid, trying to fill a spoon
with water and run across a field to fill up a cup. There’s always spillage.
The second half of
my day was much like the first half.
Needless to say I was anxious for the end of the day so I could stand
up. I will often work at a stand up
counter in a normal day, and I couldn’t believe how much I just wanted to stand
and stretch out on this day. I know that
one day is not enough to thoroughly experience what it is like to be in a wheelchair
day in and out. Some of the tasks I
performed were very awkward for me doing them for the first time; I am sure
that over time they become easier, but I am sure they are still a challenge. And please know that any of the humorous
comments made during my reflections on this day are 100% targeted at me and
only me. I am one of those people who,
if I can't laugh at my own hardships, I might cry. So the jokes or comparisons I related in this
story are my built in defense mechanism, just trying to diffuse the
tension.
As it happened, my
in-laws were visiting us for the week at the same time I had set up this
trial. I can truly say I felt thankful
when I went home and saw the ramps my son and I had built set up at our doors
that allow my mother-in-law to more easily make it into our house. Our house was built in the early 1950’s and
like many others of that era are not accessibility friendly. So even though I ended my own trial before I
went home, I really didn’t. I know how
hard it is to negotiate the steps into our house. The doors are all too small in width. There is a small powder room on the first
floor, but no bathing fixture. As an
architect I had already seen all these shortcomings, but after my trial I saw
them even more clearly. My wife and I
have some ideas on how to make one story living a possibility in our house, but
it won’t be cheap. It is much, much
easier to make that possible if you consider all of the needs in design.
Day 2 – The
Motorized Scooter
I had scheduled to
have a day in a motorized scooter the very next day. I can’t tell you how happy I was that I did
not do it the other way around. A local
dealer allowed me to borrow a pretty nice unit that is not unlike many we see
in retirement living environments. Even
relatively healthy independent living residents may need mobility devices to
travel long distances on their own.
Retirement living campuses can get rather spread out. As I found out the day before, even 300 feet
(just the length of a football field) can seem much longer from certain
perspectives.
The unit itself
breaks down into five very manageable pieces such that most people could stow it
in their car and then assemble it at the point of use in about 2 minutes. The heaviest piece is the battery at just under
30 pounds. From the moment I got on the
scooter in the parking lot, I felt a huge sense of freedom compared to the day
before. This thing was pretty
zippy. It was entirely more maneuverable
than I thought possible on three wheels.
I got a lot of amused looks from my coworkers on this day. I didn’t get all the offers for assistance,
and it was obvious that I was more willing to move about the the office than
the prior day.
I found getting to
my desk a breeze. I had intended to
transfer to my regular desk chair throughout the day today. I assumed for my trial purpose that most people
using a scooter are capable of walking short distances, and I would too. I steered into my workspace and found that I
had no problem getting the device to the spot I wanted. The seat also swivels to 90 degrees which
allowed me to face my computer with no problem.
The chair height of this model was not adjustable so I felt a bit too
high at my desk, but throughout the day, psychologically I felt like I was
closer to my coworker’s level.
After a bit of
experience driving, I found there were really no barriers I needed to worry
about. The throw rugs were minor
speedbumps today. I soon found that I
could go forward and backwards using the same thumb position making operating
doors much easier as the day went on. I
didn’t bump into the doors much at all after a while. Using the same bathroom as the day before, I
found there was no issue turning it around the same as the wheelchair. And I could drive up to the side of the sink
and turn the seat in order to face the sink straight on with my knees below the
counter. Being a little higher up made
brushing my teeth easier as well. All of
the kitchen appliances in our lunchroom were easily accessible from the scooter
as well.
Very quickly I
realized why we see so many of these devices in our work. We may grumble a bit trying to fit ‘scooter
parking lots’ in our projects near dining venues or assembly areas. But I get it.
The freedom I felt that day must not compare at all with someone who can
use those machines to get from their apartment to a destination a quarter mile
away in just a few minutes. Anyone with
any kind of joint pain, respiratory issues or any other medical problems must
LOVE the independence they gain when they straddle one of these bad boys. Mine even came with a basket for storage!
Swivel action on the scooter made for an easy desk maneuverability. |
At the end of the
second day I left the wheelchair and the scooter out by our lunchroom for our
staff of architects and interior designers to try out. My hope was that the staff would get an
understanding as to the ‘why’ when I mark up their drawings if a clearance
space is missing or something is mounted too high in reach range. Because even though I could see most of the
infractions before my trials, I have a much better understanding now as to how
it affects someone in the position I was in for just one day. While it is easy for many of us to fixate on the
mobility kinds of issues when thinking about accessibility requirements, let us
not forget the many other accessibility issues dealt for those with vision,
hearing, hand dexterity and height limitations.
While it is utterly impossible to address the challenges of all, merely
walking a mile in another’s shoes can open your eyes to the challenges that
others experience daily, and there are some relatively small design features we
can provide to help without adversely affecting anyone.
Going... |
...going... |
Gone. My car fit the folded wheelchair as well as the broken down scooter without any problem. |
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