My current employment requires me to travel interstate a couple of times a year. I used to really enjoy this, and look forward to it, but now I no longer enjoy it. In fact, I dread it. I have nightmares for a couple of weeks leading up to it - dreams of falling on hard surfaces and hurting myself, or getting tangled in cords. I'm still a largely self-reliant person with a disability, but getting older means that managing my personal care needs in an unfamiliar environment, AND trying to work a full day as well, is really, really hard.
Last week, I travelled to Perth with my manager for a two-day meeting at Curtin University. We had booked the Pan Pacific in Perth as it was the only hotel in Perth that appeared to have a wheelchair accessible room available. When we arrived, however, the front desk advised that a wheelchair accessible room had not been reserved and one was not available for the first night. Needless to say that I was more than a little grumpy and upset, arriving after a early start, a day at work and a long flight from Adelaide. I'm pretty sure my grumpiness was more than obvious, especially when I angrily suggested to the front desk manager that he should not charge us for a non-accessible room (he declined to take up my suggestion). My grumpiness wasn't helped by the fact that the front desk staff insisted on talking to my manager about my room (we had separate rooms), and even when reminded to talk directly to me, I could not hear them especially well because of the height of the front desk and the noise of the piano player in the nearby bar. Anyhow, even I am realistic enough to know that wheelchair accessible rooms cannot be produced out of thin air. So I went to the non-accessible club room.
The room itself was lovely - very spacious and well laid out, and it could have very easily been made accessible with the following: a ramp bevelled into the one inch step into the bathroom; a different style of sink with room underneath; a higher toilet with a folding, wall mounted hand rail; a folding seat in the shower (already a large, roll in shower). The room already had accessible light switches, a bed at a good height, reachable air conditioning controls, power points in easy reach, and plenty of room to move about. Once in the room, the attitude of staff seem to soften a little - I was offered room service as compensation for not having an accessible room, and a fruit platter was brought up to me. This was lovely, but what I REALLY needed was an accessible bathroom with a handrail next to the toilet and a sink that I could get my knees under. I sat and stared at the toilet for ages, trying to get up the courage to try a transfer onto the loo, using the granite/marble vanity unit as a substitute handrail. Once upon a time, I would have done it without a second thought. With my partner, I might have done it. But on my own, all I could think of was how hard the surfaces would be on my head, should I fall. I bottled. I lost my nerve. I needed an alternative - and soon.
So I turned back the bed covers, and I took one of the big, fluffy, hotel towels and laid it across the bed, draping it over the edge. I transferred into the bed. Then I perched the room's solid, plastic rubbish bin on top on my wheelchair's footplates, and wedged it between the bedside table and against the edge of the bed. Can you guess what happened next? Yes, I peed in the rubbish bin. Too much information? Well, I'm sorry, BUT WHAT DID YOU THINK I WAS GOING TO DO IN A NON-ACCESSIBLE ROOM? Hold it in for 12 hours? I don't ask for a wheelchair accessible room to be difficult; I actually need a handrail next to the toilet to be able to transfer safely. In the morning, I emptied the bin into the loo, without spilling pee all over the place, and rinsed the bin out. As I couldn't use the shower, bath or sink to wash, I filled the bin with warm water and sat the bin on my lap against the vanity unit as a makeshift basin, and washed my hair and myself over the bin. It wasn't ideal by any stretch of the imagination, but I felt sufficiently decent to be able to go to the work meeting, which was the whole point of the trip.
When I returned to the hotel after work, I was able to move to a smaller wheelchair accessible room. The front desk staff had listened to tapes of the original booking and confirmed that a wheelchair accessible room had been requested, and availability had been confirmed, but the wheelchair accessible room request had not been recorded. Staff were exceedingly apologetic from this point onwards, offering dinner or breakfast on the house, where they had been somewhat defensive the previous night. (Although this change in attitude might have had something to do with the snarky tweet I sent the previous night.) The wheelchair accessible room had a handrail next to the toilet and a sink that I could get my knees under, but the air conditioning controls were out of reach, and the bathroom was too small to be able to close the concertina door with my wheelchair next to the toilet, so that the door had to stay open. Unfortunately, this meant having to look at my reflection in the mirrored wardrobe opposite the bathroom whilst sitting on the toilet. But at least I could use the toilet!
I'm more than a little proud of my ingenuity in a tricky situation on this occasion. But I'm getting really worn down by the sheer difficulty of work travel. It's not just the physical exertion of personal care in unfamiliar locations; it's the difficulty of managing Qantas staff and their assumptions that my manager is also my personal care attendant; it's not getting to eat in meeting breaks because either the food is too hard to manage or there isn't enough time to eat and also go to the loo; it's being really tired and taking days to recover.
I am a crip with a full-time, permanent job, and a decent salary. I know that makes me one of the really, really lucky ones, and angst about work travel is a luxury that many don't have. Whilst writing this post this afternoon, Graeme Innes, Australia's Disability Discrimination Commissioner, has tweeted that Qantas could not manage to get him and his guide dog onto an early flight, despite seats being available. It helps to know that I'm not the only person with a disability who has a few problems with work travel.