Traveling and exploring with sister has given me some eye opening experiences and insights into being out and about in a wheelchair. The looks, reactions, helpfulness (or lack of) from others - sometimes encouraging, sometimes completely shocking.
The other day we were in a mall when Becks needed to use the bathroom. Finding a disabled toilet that isn't out of order can be its’ own little mission, but today it wasn't the issue. We found a cubicle but could hear a girl inside talking on her phone, so we gave the door a light knock to let her know it was needed. After a moment and a bit of rustling the door opened, and a perfectly capable young woman stood there, continuing her conversation.
“Sorry sorry,” she said as she stood in the doorway, still on her phone.
After a minute of awkwardly waiting, patience fading, I asked if we could go in.
“No,” she said, in between her conversation.
Pause. Alrighty, not like Becks needs to go or anything.
"Sorry? Why not?"
She kept talking, then pointed to the toilet seat.
“My shopping’s there.”
I looked over and sure enough her precious days' work was seated on the throne. Luckily I was so shocked that the words running through my head didn’t make it out of my mouth. There are moments where my ghetto alter ego is awakened - thankful for Jesus helping me keep my hoop earrings on.
Our princess left eventually once she discovered that she could talk on the phone with one hand and carry her shopping with the other. The bathroom could now function in its intended use.