Tuesday, September 24, 2019

Wheelchair designated parking isn’t for everyone







Drat! My wheelchair designated parking placard has expired! Thankfully, because my disability is visible, I won’t be required to have Section 2 filled in, but I won’t be able to park in a wheelchair designated parking space at SNB.  One space over will do just fine. I’m in wheelchair Olympic athlete shape. 

I try to be respectful of those who may be in greater need with regard to use of the wheelchair designated space, especially if I’m only going to be in a place for a short time — I will walk. In winter weather, if I’m going to spend longer than an hour, we use the wheelchair parking space. Otherwise my friend will pull up to the curb at the mall, and we’ll get me and my chair out and she’ll park in a regular space. When I’m finished with the mall crawl, I’ll propel my chair to the parking space she chose. That way we don’t have to take a designated space that a young family with a profoundly mobility challenged child may need. Rule of thumb — if you really are able to ‘go the distance’ on foot or on wheels, do it! 
There’s been a lot of press about wheelchair parking spaces and incidences of people abusing them. How can we be sure that someone really is a ‘designated space’ abuser? Lots of ‘hidden’ disabilities may significantly impact ability to move about freely, effectively diminishing quality of life. Those in such circumstance are  absolutely entitled to use the wheelchair parking space if it helps reduce their fatigue and contributes to their emotional wellness. Fatigue makes one grumpy and stressed. Going shopping and having to park a very long distance from store entrances sort of ruins the whole experience. A convenient parking space is really not too much to ask for. I’m all about wants v. needs.  

That brings me to the recent killing in the United States of a man over a parking space. What’s with that? What did that white Florida man who told detectives he had a “pet peeve” about illegal parking in handicapped spots ‘really’ want? He was convicted on 23 August 2019 of manslaughter for the fatal shooting of an unarmed black man outside a convenience store. Was he out to harm ‘anyone’ who was, in his misguided view, illegally parked, or was his intent to shoot a person of colour? The decision he made on that day affected many lives and took 2 lives; one forever and another lost to many years in prison. No winners and lots of losers.

Wheelchair designated parking spaces, simply put, are available to those who need them. A child with quadriplegic cerebral palsy on a portable vent is typically transported in a van with a hydraulic lift ramp that  rolls/unfolds from the side opening door. Ever wonder what those white lines between parking spaces are for? That space allows for the lowered ramp and egress from the vehicle. Don’t park there!  A tip for vans drivers who occupy wheelchair designated spaces — make sure to park as straight as you can, so you’re not  drifting into another space. Being a considerate motorist is good for everyone.

To those who function with a cynicism that most find offensive, think before you assume the worst or the wrong thing when you watch someone pull into a designated space. It’s like you’re lying in wait for a parking space violator. You look for the wheelchair, trying to see evidence in the back seat, maybe. If there isn’t one, bam! they’re parked illegally. You watch some more. Where’s the wheelchair designated placard? You watch and watch.  The driver of the car gets out. Walking! She goes to the trunk. Out comes a walker on wheels; one of those nifty folding affairs with a seat and a basket underneath.  You continue to watch. The woman goes around to the passenger side and opens the door, positioning the walker. A really small, very elderly man steps out and moves gingerly towards the walker, getting himself positioned. Perhaps they’re father and daughter. She walks beside him as they make their way to the mall entrance. Confident that he’s safely inside, she leaves him to get back in the car. She backs out of the parking space and moves to a regular space. Do you stop watching? You should. 

What people may not be aware of is that it’s not always the driver of the vehicle in need of the wheelchair designated parking space. In fact, the car being driven may actually be owned by the passenger, the legal holder of the wheelchair designated placard. Lots of people who have them and use them are like me — ‘as required’ use.

  When folks give my friend and me ‘the look’ when we pull into a space, I smile. Once, I’m seen moving, my situation becomes clear. `nough said!

Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with her geriatric Australian silky terrier and a rambunctious Maltese. She can be reached via email at carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca










Monday, September 9, 2019

Redefining medical necessity to enhance quality of life



Elijah James and his service dog Tobias are back to school


As a person growing old with disability, I’ve had decades to get acquainted with the ins and outs of the systems of goods and services available to people who live with challenges, particularly those associated with mobility and ambulation.

In Canada, medically necessary is a term ascribed to health care services or supplies needed to diagnose or treat an illness, injury, condition, disease or its symptoms and that meet accepted standards of medicine. 

In the insurance industry, medically necessary relates also to the coverage available for acquisition of therapeutic aids and devices such as wheelchairs and scooters, among other aids to daily living and/or wellness/care management.

Broadly, health insurance companies provide coverage only for health-related services defined or determined to be medically necessary. Medical necessity refers to a decision by your health plan that your treatment, test, or procedure is necessary for your health or to treat a diagnosed medical problem. From time to time a patient’s case may be reviewed to determine efficacy of continuing with a particular course of treatment, therapy or use of certain devices and aids.

My head goes into spin mode when when I look to how the insurance industry specifically needs to examine what the ever-elusive ‘they’ view as medically necessary. To my way of thinking, particularly with regard to children and therapeutic aids like power wheelchairs and mobility scooters, they become ‘medically necessary’ when by virtue of their use, they improve physical health because they’ve contributed to improving emotional wellness/health.

The industry could actually save considerable money in the long-term if they allowed for the one-off of a scooter or a wheelchair that didn’t have restrictions such as ‘must be suitable for both inside and outside use’. Unfortunately, many people, both young and old, who would physically benefit from a scooter or power chair are turned down, denied, because the ‘intended use’ doesn’t fit the ‘little blue book’ of rules and regulations set out by the industry. Children with since birth disability don’t have faces; they have numbers. Therein lies the flaw in the system of service delivery.

I know my quality of life, as a child growing up with cerebral palsy, would have been significantly enhanced if I had a wheelchair to use for part of my day. It would have allowed me to be more able to interact outside and feel included; walking with heavy metal braces was exhausting. I suspect it never occurred to my parents to incorporate part-time wheelchair use into my formative years. I consider the era — pre-mainstream inclusion.

At university, in the 1970s, a scooter would have been perfect for getting around on campus, not only to classes but also for social outings ‘down the hill’ at UNB. Back then, I didn’t venture very far on my sticks. Winter months posed restrictions to crutches users that wouldn’t have been such an issue had a mobility scooter been available. It’s important for young people with mobility disorders, as they grow, to experience life beyond their disability and therapies. The insurance industry, in acquainting themselves with the emotional cost of living with disability, would then have opportunity to significantly change the game by lifting all restrictions to approving mobility scooters. Parents of children with deficits to mobility shouldn’t have to jump through hoops to provide their child with opportunities outside the home and classroom. Life’s unfair enough as it is without entities like the health insurance industry, with powers to make change, continuing to be unyielding with the ‘denied’ stamp.

My young Facebook friend, Elijah James, and his Mom, from Tennessee, have a public awareness Facebook presence — that’s how I got to learn about him. He was  a ‘denied’ victim. Eli lives with a rare form of Spina Bifida called Rachischisis. It is usually 100% fatal. Eli has exceeded expectations, and undertook wheelchair training at the Patricia Neal Rehabilitation Center. When it came time for acquiring a chair, the insurance company denied it, saying he was too young and too small for a wheelchair.  Hmm! The chair he trained in cost in the vicinity of $50,000!  

I asked if I could help them reach their goal of getting this little boy’s life changer - his freedom.  I approached the manufacturer directly and they agreed to slash $15,000 off the price; through fund raisers, the family secured the balance. Eli now has the ability to explore his world which is what little children need to do. On Facebook, the many photos of him engaged in all manner of fun things, along with his service dog, Tobias, are testament to the reality that a wheelchair or a scooter is not just a means to get from A to B. It’s life on wheels. 

Physical engagement enhances emotional wellness which concurrently has potential to reduce burden on health care systems and systems of goods and services delivery like the insurance industry. A win-win! So, scooters and wheelchairs are physically, emotionally and mentally necessary to enhance quality of life.

Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with her geriatric Australian silky terrier and a rambunctious Maltese. She can be reached via email at carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca