Being the mom of a son who has used a wheelchair for the past 31 years has certainly changed my perspective in more ways than one. Growing up as an able-bodied girl in small town America, I honestly did not see many wheelchairs being used. Most of the wheelchairs that I did see were at hospitals and nursing homes, transporting patients down the halls to their rooms. I related wheelchairs to sickness, which is far from what they actually provide.
But this year, I want to celebrate the independence that wheelchairs give. I want to shout from the rooftops that they can give a person purpose and a life that is both fulfilling and exciting. I want to reminisce about my experiences in the past and tell you how important having a wheelchair for my son has been for me.
When my son, Cory, was only three years old, his doctor suggested he get a manual wheelchair due to his diagnosis and weakness caused by a neuromuscular disease. I was still trying to carry him everywhere that we went, and he was getting so tall that is legs would get intertwined around my knees with every step. I was reluctant to agree to this change in our lives, even though I knew it was much needed.
I wasn't sure how people would react when they saw him rolling around or being pushed. I wondered if they would stare, or if he would be able to make friends as easily, and I feared for his self-esteem. In all reality, it was me who was insecure. It wasn't him or the wheelchair that would case any of these feelings.
I remember the day that the wheelchair supply company's owner came to visit Cory and me during his physical therapy session. He was super friendly and answered all of our questions. After I finally agreed to order the chair, he began to measure my son to make sure it would be perfect for his needs. He even asked my son what color he wanted it to be so that he would love it even more. Cory told him he wanted it to be red. He wanted to stand out. He wanted people to notice him, and why wouldn't he? I felt ashamed for even thinking that people may shun him because of the wheelchair, and I was so proud of Cory's excitement to shine in his new red chair.
When his bright red QUICKIE manual wheelchair arrived, he was so excited to get in it and go. He was no longer bound by the weakness in his legs and could now move independently and explore wherever he wanted to go. It was life-changing for both Cory and me. I quickly saw how much freedom he was given by rolling himself around the house, the stores, and everywhere else he wanted to go.
Within a year, he was even out there on the field, playing little league T-ball with an adaptive sports team. I was inspired to start this team in our hometown after seeing how happy this newfound movement had given him. I wanted him to be included and to enjoy the outdoors, playing sports just like all of the other kids his age.
But one day during a therapy visit, I was mortified when his physical therapist suggested he get a power wheelchair. She said that he was giving all of his strength and energy to getting there, and once he was there, he was too exhausted to participate. I couldn't even grasp this idea. Again, my heart sank. I thought power wheelchairs seemed so medical and that people would think he was not able to accomplish things because of this cumbersome wheelchair that would be attached to him. Here I was again in this same mindset. The problem was within me. I had to open my mind to the idea that it could be a good thing, regardless of how I perceived the chair to be.
After a lot of thought about what she said, I certainly didn't want to be the one who held my son back from the independence and freedom that a new power wheelchair would provide. So, the appointment was made, and again we met with the wheelchair supplier to order a new power wheelchair.
I remained fearful of how his classmates would react. I wasn't sure if he would be able to control the chair as easily, and how would it do in our tiny little apartment? It seemed as if I was searching for reasons to keep this heavy, cumbersome chair away as long as I could. I had watched the Jerry Lewis telethon growing up and remembered seeing some of the people on there who used power chairs. Again, I related it to the disease and thought of it was confining and binding.
When the new QUICKIE power wheelchair arrived, my son's face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. It was as if he'd been given a new shiny Lamborghini. He couldn't wait to drive it into the school, show all of his classmates, and zoom down the hallways back and forth to lunch. He honestly felt like a superhero who had just earned his wings. Seeing this made me feel more confident and overjoyed that he could now move more quickly and easily without getting tired from rolling himself at a snail's pace.
This chair immediately gave him self-confidence and freedom. I could see the change in him from the moment I sat him in it. I still remember his teacher telling me that when the class went outside for recess, the kids would like up behind Cory and wait for their turn to ride across the playground on the back of his chair. He was a superhero to them. Some of the kids even asked for a wheelchair on their Christmas lists that year when asked to send letters to Santa. They saw it as a fun toy, and they wanted one, too.
Throughout the years, Cory's insurance was able to assist us with getting a new power chair about every five years. This helped him continue to be comfortable as he grew and continue reaching his goals. As the years passed and I saw what an incredible life he was able to live even if he was not able to walk, stand, or transfer himself, my idea of the wheelchair looking scary was no longer even a thought. It was actually the opposite.
The wheelchair was able to take my son to his high school prom. It also took him to high school pep rallies and football games. It was able to take him to college and rolled him across the stage after four years to receive his degree in marketing. His wheelchair has taken him to his first job interview, although he was turned away because the hiring manager walked in and immediately said, "This job isn't the right fit for you, because it involves lots of travel." Unfortunately, he saw the wheelchair and not the person sitting in it. Just like I once did years ago, he thought it put a limit on someone. He didn't even realize that his statement was the catalyst that drove my son to push harder and go further, not only to prove a point, but to prove to himself that anything is possible.
After my son started his accessible travel blog, I saw a whole new mindset emerge, but not for him; for me. He always knew the wheelchair gave him independence and freedom. I traveled alongside him and his wheelchair to over 50 countries. I saw it take him to the pyramids in Egypt and the rainforest in Costa Rica. I saw the wheelchair take him to Israel so that he could ride in a hot air balloon over the Negev Desert, and I saw it take him to his seventh continent and complete his lifelong goal of being in Antarctica.
We love exploring together. Nothing makes me happier than walking beside him in his wheelchair and seeing a new place and exploring new things. With his Magic Mobility Extreme X8, we are even able to go on hiking trails in the woods, play in the snow, and roll across the sand at the beach. Wheelchairs have truly enhanced our lives in ways I never thought possible so many years ago, sitting in that physical therapist's office.
My mindset has definitely changed over the years. A wheelchair is not just a medical device. It is a gateway to the world. It can help someone find that job they've always dreamed of and travel the world. It can help someone who would otherwise be immobile and stuck inside see the great wonders of the world. Wheelchairs give purpose and enhance people's lives to that they can be fulfilled and enriched to embrace each and every day. I am so thankful for wheelchair manufacturers like Sunrise Medical and the life that my son has been given. Without them, I can't even imagine where that kid of mine and I would be.
About the author
Sandy Gilbreath is a world traveler, social media influencer, and a Georgia native. She is a single mother to the award-winning travel blogger Cory of Curb Free with Cory Lee. She is the co-author of the children's book "Let's Explore with Cor-Cor" and serves on the Board of The Curb Free Foundation, a non-profit organization that awards travel grants to people who use wheelchairs. Follow her travels on her Facebook page, My Sandy Trail.
Most of the stories here on LiveQuickie.com were submitted by readers. Do you have a story to tell? We'd love to hear it. Submit your story here.