Disabled

Wednesday, 10 August 2011 00:35 -     - {{hitsCtrl.values.hits}}

For one minute I was a homosapien and the next I was lying flat. I had slipped down on a gravel path and landed full on the ground at 6:30 a.m. I looked at my unbelievably painful left foot in the morning light. It was off joint and turned 90 degrees to the port side (forgive the nautical descriptions), but from then onwards I was rather like a ship without a rudder.

There were lots of people around me to help, but I soon realised that without some kind of trained help, I was going to do more damage to my foot before I got to the hospital. In the end I opted for some sensible assistance and managed to get to Durdans on a Sunday morning.

I was also fortunate enough to find a good orthopaedic surgeon who put back my foot and after a surgical procedure, which lasted one-and-a-half hours, ended up with eight pins, a plate and a cast which would last six weeks.

As long as one is in hospital, there are many things to aid one’s disability. But once thrown into the open world, where 99+% of the rest of the species walk with a certain agility on two feet, one’s broken leg can become a sore thumb, so to speak. And everywhere one looks around one finds that the world at large is not built to accommodate this minority.

It’s not surprising that one does not see the world in this light (obviously) when one is not disabled. Only when one is part of this sub species does answering a call of nature, which is a no brainer in normal life, become a planned operation of immense magnitude. All of a sudden the additional bits of equipment in the bathroom, which previously may have looked strange, become absolutely essential aids.

Incidentally the HSBC Bank in Nugegoda, which is disability friendly, has various stainless steel bars in their toilets, which suddenly make a lot of sense when you have only one foot operational. The ramp in front of the establishment, which looked absolutely foolish previously, has now become heaven sent for my wheelchair.

Talking about ramps, when I was just released from hospital and quite eager to eat some non-hospital food, I got my family to drive me to a fast food restaurant that served fried chicken. But on arriving there, I realised I could not enter the establishment without much pain as it had the greatest impediment to the crippled – steps.

To any normal human being, steps are built for easy access to any place. But if you think about it, homosapiens, who are described as bi-pedestal beings while climbing steps, are involved in a gravity defying operation – i.e. for a moment in time we are suspended on one foot, generally speaking, which means there is a possibility of a fall.

But probably due to the speed at which we move, we do this operation properly and reach our destination safely. However, if one is disabled in one foot, and on crutches or a walking stick, this procedure becomes slower and therefore more prone to prove the old Newton theory of gravity, in a drastic fashion. This fast food outlet, even though an international franchise, did not have any ramp in two of their outlets.

I was recently asked by some well-meaning corporate citizens for some CSR suggestions. And I was telling them that I had learned from the corporate sector of a large Sri Lankan conglomerate that this ‘socially responsible’ position had to be sustainable. It should mean something to all the stakeholders, which also means the shareholders.

Building a simple ramp at the entrance of one’s establishment suddenly takes on a whole new meaning in being socially responsible because not only does it reach out to a minority that people mostly pay a lot of lip service to, but also accommodates a new segment of customers whose patronage will go towards bringing in new business, which would be sustainable even from the shareholders’ point of view.

My view is currently of the incarcerated, and needless to say that I see many things differently. But once my six weeks have passed and my cast comes off, I may well forget what it felt like to be in this situation. But for now there is at least one positive thing about my foot being broken – my eyes were opened to see this world from a different – or is it disabled? – position.

(The writer, a PR consultant and head of Media360, was previously a mainstream journalist in print and electronic media. He also edits a new media website.)

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