Stairs are a mobility-challenged person’s worst enemy, it’s super awkward to be outside, and I’m maintaining my self-esteem while temporarily disabled.

Lately, I have been feeling really self-conscious about many things related to my broken ankle/leg, including being social.

It’s not just the physical struggle of needing space to maneuver either my scooter or crutches to do anything, or how winded I get from having to support myself on only one of my legs, or how from an environmental perspective, sidewalks are either completely absent or have cracks and grooves that could send me tumbling into disaster, or how most social institutions like restaurants or bars are not friendly for people with durable medical equipment (SO MANY STAIRS)…it’s the unspoken awkwardness of disability and how uncomfortable it makes me and other people feel, especially when I’m out and about struggling with mobility.

When I am out in public with either my scooter or crutches I draw a lot of attention, and being relatively introverted, I find this attention unsettling. 

The usual looks/reactions I receive are of curiosity, sadness, pity, and/or discomfort. And even though I have a physical injury, mentally, I feel deteriorated by negative emotions such as frustration, helplessness, impatience, defeat, a lack of self-confidence, and a fear of being a burden to others.

While none of these feelings are extreme enough to impact my quality of life or daily functioning, I do notice how they affect my productivity and motivation. I find myself choosing not to do activities because I’m intimidated by the amount of effort the thought of doing these tasks take, and I am probably also trying to avoid the perceived embarrassment of having to ask for help or of being watched while I struggle.

This past weekend though, I decided to break out of my comfort zone and explore the world outside of my apartment like I did when I was a person who could use both legs. Here are a few examples of the experiences I had that varied from pretty awful to uplifting in ways that really encouraged me.

I began my Friday evening in a great mood. I was heading to happy hour with my friend Drew before meeting up with some of our other friends to watch the UNC vs Duke basketball game. My spirits were high because the fresh air streaming from the window of the Lyft felt phenomenal and I was giddy in anticipation of doing something “normal” after weeks of being cooped up inside.

Immediately upon arriving at the restaurant though, I was met with a challenge that would soon become a theme across many of the public locations I would enter: stairs. The front stoop was very steep and to my dismay, our friend was working on the second floor of the building, which was at least 20 steps up without elevator access.

So, I braced myself for the climb. Drew held onto my crutches while I hopped up the stairs. It was exhausting, and at the top of the stairs, there was another step to get into the main area. Ah!

Not until stairs became my number one enemy   did I realize how they are everywhere. Needless to say, by the time Drew and I were able to sit down at the second-floor bar, I felt like my beverage was well deserved! It was the first cocktail I had in over a month and I found it was very refreshing 😊

After a bit of time at that restaurant, we headed to another bar to watch the basketball game. We were watching the game on the first floor but it was packed. I did feel pretty awkward navigating through people on my crutches, and it made me realize how people with mobile disabilities are not very visible at bars, perhaps because these settings are generally tough to navigate and there is that sense of social awkwardness as well.

The most unpleasant event that happened related to my mobile disability at this location was when I wanted to go to the bathroom. I waited to go there because the place we were at prior would have required me to navigate two steep stoops to use a very tight bathroom and I didn’t want to deal with the struggle. When we were at the previous place, I was hoping the next place would be better for moving around, however, yes, you probably guessed it, the only public bathroom at our next location was on the second floor…which was at least 15 steps up.

When this news broke, I was in both disbelief about the location of the restroom up the stairs and discomfort because my bladder was full. This situation made me reflect on how many public bathrooms are often tucked away either on another floor or hidden around several corners. I also realized how buildings sometimes have wheelchair-accessible bathroom stalls, but then they don’t have automatic doors to the bathroom entrance or have a tough route to get to there.

Luckily, the bouncer at the bar was very kind and recognized my challenge. He organized for me to use the staff restroom on the first floor and made sure a path was cleared so I could get to and from my friends more easily. I did feel kind of embarrassed to need this extra assistance, but I am very, very much appreciative of this compassionate young man.

The game overall was a lot of fun despite Duke winning by just a hair. I forgot how much I enjoyed watching college basketball, especially when the teams are competitive and I am surrounded by people with good energy.

After the game, we decided to go to another place not too far away, and that was a little crummy because I was slower than my friends. Drew and I share a trait of being somewhat impatient at times, but he was a real good friend and walked by me with encouragements to take breaks. I felt like such a spectacle because it almost seemed like people felt compelled to look at me and comment on my plight in sympathy or encouragement. Obviously, the latter behaviors were more welcome, but I certainly would have preferred returning to being a regular Jing on the street.

I didn’t stay at the next place too long because this was a pretty big outing for me compared to the rest of my month and decided to retire earlier than my company. What happened then definitely shocked me.

When I ordered my Lyft and it arrived, the driver told me he could not give me a ride after seeing my crutches. As I was entering the car he said that I needed to order a “special” ride in the future for people with wheelchairs and that he would give me a ride in that particular instance, like it was a huge favor to me.

I was really taken aback because 1) I have taken plenty of ride-shares since my injury, even with my larger knee-scooter without a problem; 2) I have the “Services-Access” option marked in my ride-share apps; and 3) I purposefully take non-shared rides to ensure there is room for my durable medical equipment.

Once we started driving, the driver proceeded to make a phone call in language I did not recognize. I knew he was talking about me because he kept saying “Lyft”. Then after the phone call, he kind of apologized to me by saying he was new and he guessed Lyft does allow drivers to give rides to people with mobile disabilities…

That experience definitely disheartened me and the next day I was hesitant to go to a friend’s place for a social function, let alone,  knowing that she lived on the third floor of a building with at least 50 stairs to get there. I decided to go because I wasn’t really doing a whole lot all day and I didn’t want my social and emotional well-being to completely wither.

Thankfully, when I arrived there, two of my other friends arrived at the same time while my other friends were coming down the stairs to assist. I made it maybe halfway up hopping on one leg before my friend Phil carried me the rest of the way and his girlfriend/my friend Kendall carried my crutches.

Both Kendall and Phil had to use crutches before and conveyed an understanding of my circumstance. I joked, but with an air of a reality, about being unsure of what felt worse: slowing them down by trying to get up the stairs on my own with crutches or being carried by another human-being because I was inefficient on my own and I was self-conscious of my blobby body. I likened our circumstance of me hobbling up the stairs to a traffic jam behind a slow car and then when Phil carried me, it was like we went into the HOV lane where we could go faster because there was more than one passenger.

Either way, I’m really glad I went because it was nice to be surrounded by my friends (and wine! And cheese!) and because some of them had their own stories of healing from broken bones. One friend shared with me stories about the tricks he learned to do on crutches because he was bored and a time when he got so fed up with them, he threw them on the ground and had a little tantrum about how he never wanted to use them again. Then he was immediately humbled because his home had a lot of stairs and tough navigation, but it made me laugh because it was so relatable to my situation.

I think one of the most valuable takeaways that really resonated with me from hearing from my friends was to focus on all the small wins. They sparked a reflection of the triumph I felt in being able to successfully go out and be with my able-bodied friends the night prior. This thought process also reminded me of how happy I was that day because I had been able to stand in the shower for the first time without fear or pain!

Up until Saturday this past weekend, I would bathe by sitting in the tub and elevating my leg outside of the basin. That day I graduated to leaning my leg on the side of the basin and standing upright on my left leg – my, how the efficiency of my showers increased! Being able to partially stand while showering was definitely a win for sure.

That evening I did not end up going out later with my friends, but I think it was a nice baby step back into my “normal” life.

The next day, I was met with more hopping and uncomfortable looks, but I also was able to catch up with a really kind friend for brunch and got an amazing Lyft ride home (maybe to offset the crummy experience I had a few days before 😆). My driver was a home health nurse and he told me that the company he works for actually uses Lyft as their carrier. He said all Lyft drivers have to comply and accommodate people with disabilities and that he has provided for ride. He was incredibly compassionate and I appreciated his help.

From all my weekend adventures outside, I realize that getting awkward looks is part of the deal of assimilating to normal life after healing from a broken bone. However, to any person like myself who feels a bit of social phobia about being in public with a visible disability, I encourage you to get out there despite the challenges! There will always be people who suck, but there will probably be more people who are S.I.C.K.: Supportive, Inclusive, Compassionate, and Kind. It’s tough to be reminded of that during times of adversity, but when you’re all healed up and it’s easier to give – Be that S.I.C.K. person who make the world a better, kinder place and encourage others too 🙂

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Read the first part of the broken bones adventure here:

I had a “freak” accident and now I’m in pain. Thanks urgent care for sending me away with a CD, stack of receipts, and my choice of opioid without proper counseling.

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