Post by williamsonzz on Oct 17, 2006 0:01:00 GMT -5
9/11 didn't change things much for power chairs. They always had a separate line or area, so there was no additional wait to get a ticket. Jake got his ticket and then wheeled over to security.
Security took him through a separate area as well. As he approached, the TSA agent shouted, "male assist!!!" In a few minutes a TSA agent came over, prepared with rubber gloves.
Jake told the agent, "I have a pack on the back, and two side packs. The pack on the back lifts off. Go ahead and lift the pack off. There's a laptop in there." The agent went to the back of the chair to lift the backpack.
While the agent was getting the pack off the back, Jake started working on the side packs. They were just plastic clips, but his hands just didn't have the strength or dexterity they used to. He leaned over the side of his chair a bit. He lifted the bag with one hand. He couldn't make a fist very well, so it was more clasping than grabbing the bag. He then found the clip with the other. He didn't quite have enough leverage, so he moved his arm around until he found the right angle. He squeezed as hard as he could, but the angle just wasn't right yet. He moved his left arm a little more, and leaned over a little more. Finally, it clicked off. By this time, the agent had returned, and helped with the remaining clips. The bags were put on the converyor belt, and they moved to the next area.
They explained the usual procedure. Pat down with the back of the hand for "sensitive areas."
"Can you stand at all?"
"No, but I can lean over."
"Ok, put your arms out."
Jake put his arms out as much as he could but they were far from horizontal. He just didn't have the strength to raise them higher. Most agents sensed it was part of the disability, but occasionally a new agent would ask him to raise them higher. As the agent was finishing with the arms, Jake leaned forward so the agent could pat his back.
Next, it was time for the sides. Jake leaned to each side, while the agent felt along his side, the sides of the chair, and as much of the cushion as he could reach.
The front was next. The chest was easy. Sometimes they would ask for the belt removal, other times not. "Can you loosen your belt?" "Sure." It took a little work to remove the belt. He couldn't grasp the end with his thumb and forefinger like everyone else. Instead, he took his thumb and pressed it between the tongue and the buckle. At the same time, he raised his shoulder instinctively, which gave him more leverage. As the thumb got pressed in enough, he then pulled out the tongue by continuing to push out with his thumb. He then laid the tongue against his palm, and pressed against it with his thumb in order to grab it and pull on it enough to loosen the buckle. All that work for a quick 1-second pat down around the buckle area.
The agent then started on the legs. Jake wondered if the agent could tell that his legs were very thin.
"Can you remove your shoes?" Sometimes they would just swab them, but no such luck this time. "I'll need a little bit of help." Jake took both of his hands, put them under his thigh, and interlocked his fingers. He then lifted up with some effort, making his foot come off the foot pedal a few inches. The agent knew what to do, and took the shoe off. Jake lowered his foot down and repeated the same thing for the other leg. They ran his shoes through the xray machine, and then they were done. They helped him get his things back and he was on his way.
Jake sped over to the gate. He had become accustomed to people staring, and didn't even think twice about it anymore. He typically went full speed, slowing down when things got crowded. It was about 30 minutes before they would board him. They always tried to board him first, because they needed extra time to load the heavy chair into the plane.
Jake thought about going through the presentation again, but wasn't up to it. It was early and he was tired. He put his elbow on the armrest, and lifted his arm so he could rest his head in his palm. Even though 6 months had passed, he couldn't help thinking of Fiona. It still wasn't clear to him whether he had made the right decision.
They had dated for almost 3 years. In virtually every way except one, they were a perfect match. It was unexpected for him, because she was not the person he imagined would be the one for him. He disliked smoking, but she smoked occasionally. He was a bit of a romantic, while she was more likely to enjoy a quickie. Jake was pretty sure she did not keep any of the poetry he wrote for her in the early parts of their relationship. She was also heavier than what he had considered ideal. But she wore it well, and he was surprised at how sexy her curves made her. His relationship with her had taught him an important lesson: love happens, it is not made and cannot be anticipated. So many people seemed to have such specific notions of what their mate was going to be, yet keeping true to those expectations could cause them to miss their true lifelong companion.
Jake was almost certain that Fiona was a devotee. She denied it when he asked her about it. He may not have ever inquired, but for two things. First, he had briefly been is physical therapy to nurture a sprained knee. His physical therapist explained the whole concept to him one day, after Jake asked her how she ended up having so many boyfriends who were wheelchair users. Second, there was that time when Jake and Fiona went to the wedding in Chicago.
They stayed in downtown and spent the day shopping. They went out to dinner with friends, had too many drinks, and stumbled home. They returned to the hotel room, and Jake went to take a shower before going to bed. Fiona would shower in the morning but went into the bathroom so they could gossip about their friends before hitting the sack. She started a cigarrette and sat on the floor.
Getting in the shower was not an easy thing for Jake. It wasn't dangerous or frustrating; it just took some time. He started with his shoes. He put his hands under his leg, and pulled up to lift his leg a little. He then moved his foot forward until the back of the shoe was over the front of the footplate. He then pulled back on his leg, until the front part of the footplate caught hold of the part of the shoe between the sole and the leather upper. With the shoe wedged there, he continued to pull up on his leg until his foot came out of the shoe, the shoe plopped to the floor, and his foot plopped back on the legrest. He still had some use of his legs, otherwise he could not do this.
He got his other show off, and next were the legrests. He leaned over and pushed the tab on one of them, which set the legrest free. He then put his hands under his leg, and pulled hard to lift his leg off of the legrest. He then swung his leg over to kick the legrest all the way to the side. He used quite a bit of his strength from his arms, torso, and legs to do this, but he did it quickly. He then lifted the legrest out and put it on the floor. To him it was a heavy legrest.
The same for the second legrest, now the socks. He scooted back in his chair and leaned way down. He had his foot as close to him as possible, and he wedged his thumb in between the sock and his ankle. He pushed down as much as he could until just before it cleared the back of his foot. He then lifted his torso back upright, to rest for a second and then reposition his foot. He pushed down the sock over a big part of his foot until the sock loosened alot. He then pulled it off from the top, finally.
Next were his pants and underwear. He took them off both at the same time. He started with the belt, wedging the thumb in as he had done before. The button was always a bit of a challenge. One thing he hated about new pants was the tightness of the button hole. He grabbed the two flaps of the pants with his hands. He then moved his elbows out to get more leverage, and pressed. The zipper was pretty easy still, despite it's small size. Wiggling off the pants and underwear was not so bad. He move to one side and lifted and leaned over as much as he could, then moved his hand to the top of the pants and underwear on the opposite side. He did his best to grab the pants and underwear and push down as much as he could. He then leaned to the opposite side and did the same thing. A few times and the pants and underwear were past his butt. From there it was much easier.
His shirt was not such a big deal. He leaned forward and grabbed the back of the collar. In a few pulls, it came over his head and he then got it all the way off.
He did not like how he looked naked. In his youth, he was very fit and strong. Now, his arms were skinny, and so were his hands. He had trouble grasping, which made coins difficult. And his legs were very skinny. He didn't like to reveal them, so they were very white, since he never wore shorts. Despite this discomfort, he never felt self-conscious in front of Fiona.
He moved the chair over the the shower, next to the shower bench. There was no consistency in these setups, so each one was a new adventure. This one would be simple--but one way only. The bench was lower than the chair, so gravity was in his side in this direction. He slid over onto the bench, and Fiona backed the chair out of the shower.
He finished showering. Now for the tough part, getting back on the chair. Fiona moved the chair close and then went back to sit down. Jake preferred to do all transfers by himself. He lifted up an armrest, and began to scoot as close as he could to the edge of the bench. He then started to get onto the wheelchair seat. Bare skin does not slide well on these seats, so it was always a side to side motion to get on, scooting a little more onto the chair with each motion. When enough of his butt overlapped with the seat, then he tried to push himself over so that his own weight would shift his center of gravity from the bench to the edge of his wheelchair seat. He didn't make it the first try. It was difficult to get enough leverage. He reached for the armrest on the other side of the chair and tried to pull with it. It was a little far, and he could not get his skin to slide. He tried again, pulling harder, seeing if the friction between his butt and the seat would give way, just a little. Still didn't work. He leaned over more, and was able to position most of his forearm onto the armrest. He pulled again. Finally, he got the slip he needed, and his body shifted over to being mostly in the wheelchair. He was panting, and had started to get a little hot from the effort.
Jake and Fiona had been talking most of this time, but they naturally tended to pause whenever Jake had to make an extra effort and needed to focus. While Jake had been transferring, they had been silent. After the transfer was complete, Jake looked over to Fiona. It took her a second to realize he was looking at her, then it clicked and they continued their conversation.
But the look on her face, in that one second, made an impression on Jake. She was stiff, not relaxed. Her mouth was slightly open, and she was focused. She looked like she had taken a breath, but not exhaled. It was a strange reaction under the circumstances. But as he thought about it later, without the cloud of alcohol, he realized it was a look of lust: she was intensely turned on. And it showed.
As soon as he backed out, Fiona came over to him, leaned over, and kissed him. She had been wearing only a t-shirt and underwear, and now took off her top. She then turned around and put herself right between his legs. She knew he had limited arm strength, so she grabbed his hands and put them up on her underwear, on her hips. He knew she wanted him to take off her underwear. He started to remove it, slowly. He wasn't trying to tease, it was his limited strength that made it go slow. First one side a little, then the other. He struggled a little with his strength and having sufficient grip and arm strength to slide them down. He finally got them all the way down, and she stepped out of them.
Jake was a little concerned that he had broken the mood taking so long, but he quickly saw that Fiona was wet. Fiona pushed herself closer to him. Jake put his hands on her legs. Fiona bent over the sink, moved even closer to him, positioning herself as close as she could in front of his mouth. Jake pulled her as much as he could and tried to match her sense of urgency. She liked his tongue flat on her, not too fast or slow. He used a little extra pressure this time, sensing the need for her to release.
She did, and she turned around and got on her knees on the mat, right between his legs. He was still wet from the shower. She started to towel him off a little, playfully ignoring his obvious excitement. She was a great tease, and eventually started giving Jake the attention he wanted. But Jake noticed that something seemed different. Fiona was touching his legs, alot. Much more than usual. And it was different than the usual lover's touch. She was not caressing his legs. She was using a much firmer touch. It was almost like a kneading, more massage-like. And then she sometimes seemed to pause. The sensation of difference was strong enough that he kept his eyes open and watched. He saw that when he felt her pause, she was taking a moment to rub herself a little between her legs. His curiosity of what was happening soon gave way to passion, and they turned the night into one that both would remember and sometimes think back to, even well after they broke up.
A few days later, while replaying the night in his mind, Jake began to think more about Fiona's reaction and the difference he had sensed. When she was touching his legs, it was almost as if she was putting just enough pressure on them to feel their thinness, their weakness, almost like a doctor might, but then also with the furtive eroticism that was far from clinical. Jake remembered all the things that the physical therapist had told him about devotees. It made Jake wonder, and he later did ask her if she had heard of devotees or considered herself to be one. She denied both, but Jake wasn't sure if she was telling the truth. He let it go, concluding it really didn't matter so much.
He missed her touch a lot. She was a very affectionate person, and when they were out together, there was no mistake they were a couple. What ended the relationship was the issue of kids. Jake did not want kids, but Fiona wanted several. Jake did not know why he did not want kids. It was just something he never desired. His disability solidified that belief, but he had never felt much more than annoyance when kids were around, particularly noisy ones. Neither could convince the other, and in their hearts both knew that a reluctant parent is not likely to be a good one.
A gentle touch on his shoulder snapped Jake out of his daydream. "We're ready for you now." They took his ticket and he rolled down the jetway. Jake directed the removal of all the wheelchair parts and slid onto the tiny aisle chair used to transfer people. They strapped him in and moved him to the airplane aisle.
"Can you stand at all?" asked the attendant.
"No, you are going to have to lift. And you will need one other person to get my legs."
He had told them they would need 2 people to get him into the seat, but as often happened, they only sent one.
"I'll help," said one of the flight attendants. Together they lifted Jake into his seat, where he would remain for the next 5 hours.
The flight attendant returned after Jake got settled in. "Do you need anything? I am not in first class this trip, but if you need something just let me know."
"No thanks, I'm fine," said Jake.
The flight attendant paused, with a bit of indecision coming over her face. She then leaned in a little closer to him, and in a softer voice, said, "ok, well just let me know if you need anything. I actually used to date a guy in a chair, so I know these flights can be difficult."
The End
Security took him through a separate area as well. As he approached, the TSA agent shouted, "male assist!!!" In a few minutes a TSA agent came over, prepared with rubber gloves.
Jake told the agent, "I have a pack on the back, and two side packs. The pack on the back lifts off. Go ahead and lift the pack off. There's a laptop in there." The agent went to the back of the chair to lift the backpack.
While the agent was getting the pack off the back, Jake started working on the side packs. They were just plastic clips, but his hands just didn't have the strength or dexterity they used to. He leaned over the side of his chair a bit. He lifted the bag with one hand. He couldn't make a fist very well, so it was more clasping than grabbing the bag. He then found the clip with the other. He didn't quite have enough leverage, so he moved his arm around until he found the right angle. He squeezed as hard as he could, but the angle just wasn't right yet. He moved his left arm a little more, and leaned over a little more. Finally, it clicked off. By this time, the agent had returned, and helped with the remaining clips. The bags were put on the converyor belt, and they moved to the next area.
They explained the usual procedure. Pat down with the back of the hand for "sensitive areas."
"Can you stand at all?"
"No, but I can lean over."
"Ok, put your arms out."
Jake put his arms out as much as he could but they were far from horizontal. He just didn't have the strength to raise them higher. Most agents sensed it was part of the disability, but occasionally a new agent would ask him to raise them higher. As the agent was finishing with the arms, Jake leaned forward so the agent could pat his back.
Next, it was time for the sides. Jake leaned to each side, while the agent felt along his side, the sides of the chair, and as much of the cushion as he could reach.
The front was next. The chest was easy. Sometimes they would ask for the belt removal, other times not. "Can you loosen your belt?" "Sure." It took a little work to remove the belt. He couldn't grasp the end with his thumb and forefinger like everyone else. Instead, he took his thumb and pressed it between the tongue and the buckle. At the same time, he raised his shoulder instinctively, which gave him more leverage. As the thumb got pressed in enough, he then pulled out the tongue by continuing to push out with his thumb. He then laid the tongue against his palm, and pressed against it with his thumb in order to grab it and pull on it enough to loosen the buckle. All that work for a quick 1-second pat down around the buckle area.
The agent then started on the legs. Jake wondered if the agent could tell that his legs were very thin.
"Can you remove your shoes?" Sometimes they would just swab them, but no such luck this time. "I'll need a little bit of help." Jake took both of his hands, put them under his thigh, and interlocked his fingers. He then lifted up with some effort, making his foot come off the foot pedal a few inches. The agent knew what to do, and took the shoe off. Jake lowered his foot down and repeated the same thing for the other leg. They ran his shoes through the xray machine, and then they were done. They helped him get his things back and he was on his way.
Jake sped over to the gate. He had become accustomed to people staring, and didn't even think twice about it anymore. He typically went full speed, slowing down when things got crowded. It was about 30 minutes before they would board him. They always tried to board him first, because they needed extra time to load the heavy chair into the plane.
Jake thought about going through the presentation again, but wasn't up to it. It was early and he was tired. He put his elbow on the armrest, and lifted his arm so he could rest his head in his palm. Even though 6 months had passed, he couldn't help thinking of Fiona. It still wasn't clear to him whether he had made the right decision.
They had dated for almost 3 years. In virtually every way except one, they were a perfect match. It was unexpected for him, because she was not the person he imagined would be the one for him. He disliked smoking, but she smoked occasionally. He was a bit of a romantic, while she was more likely to enjoy a quickie. Jake was pretty sure she did not keep any of the poetry he wrote for her in the early parts of their relationship. She was also heavier than what he had considered ideal. But she wore it well, and he was surprised at how sexy her curves made her. His relationship with her had taught him an important lesson: love happens, it is not made and cannot be anticipated. So many people seemed to have such specific notions of what their mate was going to be, yet keeping true to those expectations could cause them to miss their true lifelong companion.
Jake was almost certain that Fiona was a devotee. She denied it when he asked her about it. He may not have ever inquired, but for two things. First, he had briefly been is physical therapy to nurture a sprained knee. His physical therapist explained the whole concept to him one day, after Jake asked her how she ended up having so many boyfriends who were wheelchair users. Second, there was that time when Jake and Fiona went to the wedding in Chicago.
They stayed in downtown and spent the day shopping. They went out to dinner with friends, had too many drinks, and stumbled home. They returned to the hotel room, and Jake went to take a shower before going to bed. Fiona would shower in the morning but went into the bathroom so they could gossip about their friends before hitting the sack. She started a cigarrette and sat on the floor.
Getting in the shower was not an easy thing for Jake. It wasn't dangerous or frustrating; it just took some time. He started with his shoes. He put his hands under his leg, and pulled up to lift his leg a little. He then moved his foot forward until the back of the shoe was over the front of the footplate. He then pulled back on his leg, until the front part of the footplate caught hold of the part of the shoe between the sole and the leather upper. With the shoe wedged there, he continued to pull up on his leg until his foot came out of the shoe, the shoe plopped to the floor, and his foot plopped back on the legrest. He still had some use of his legs, otherwise he could not do this.
He got his other show off, and next were the legrests. He leaned over and pushed the tab on one of them, which set the legrest free. He then put his hands under his leg, and pulled hard to lift his leg off of the legrest. He then swung his leg over to kick the legrest all the way to the side. He used quite a bit of his strength from his arms, torso, and legs to do this, but he did it quickly. He then lifted the legrest out and put it on the floor. To him it was a heavy legrest.
The same for the second legrest, now the socks. He scooted back in his chair and leaned way down. He had his foot as close to him as possible, and he wedged his thumb in between the sock and his ankle. He pushed down as much as he could until just before it cleared the back of his foot. He then lifted his torso back upright, to rest for a second and then reposition his foot. He pushed down the sock over a big part of his foot until the sock loosened alot. He then pulled it off from the top, finally.
Next were his pants and underwear. He took them off both at the same time. He started with the belt, wedging the thumb in as he had done before. The button was always a bit of a challenge. One thing he hated about new pants was the tightness of the button hole. He grabbed the two flaps of the pants with his hands. He then moved his elbows out to get more leverage, and pressed. The zipper was pretty easy still, despite it's small size. Wiggling off the pants and underwear was not so bad. He move to one side and lifted and leaned over as much as he could, then moved his hand to the top of the pants and underwear on the opposite side. He did his best to grab the pants and underwear and push down as much as he could. He then leaned to the opposite side and did the same thing. A few times and the pants and underwear were past his butt. From there it was much easier.
His shirt was not such a big deal. He leaned forward and grabbed the back of the collar. In a few pulls, it came over his head and he then got it all the way off.
He did not like how he looked naked. In his youth, he was very fit and strong. Now, his arms were skinny, and so were his hands. He had trouble grasping, which made coins difficult. And his legs were very skinny. He didn't like to reveal them, so they were very white, since he never wore shorts. Despite this discomfort, he never felt self-conscious in front of Fiona.
He moved the chair over the the shower, next to the shower bench. There was no consistency in these setups, so each one was a new adventure. This one would be simple--but one way only. The bench was lower than the chair, so gravity was in his side in this direction. He slid over onto the bench, and Fiona backed the chair out of the shower.
He finished showering. Now for the tough part, getting back on the chair. Fiona moved the chair close and then went back to sit down. Jake preferred to do all transfers by himself. He lifted up an armrest, and began to scoot as close as he could to the edge of the bench. He then started to get onto the wheelchair seat. Bare skin does not slide well on these seats, so it was always a side to side motion to get on, scooting a little more onto the chair with each motion. When enough of his butt overlapped with the seat, then he tried to push himself over so that his own weight would shift his center of gravity from the bench to the edge of his wheelchair seat. He didn't make it the first try. It was difficult to get enough leverage. He reached for the armrest on the other side of the chair and tried to pull with it. It was a little far, and he could not get his skin to slide. He tried again, pulling harder, seeing if the friction between his butt and the seat would give way, just a little. Still didn't work. He leaned over more, and was able to position most of his forearm onto the armrest. He pulled again. Finally, he got the slip he needed, and his body shifted over to being mostly in the wheelchair. He was panting, and had started to get a little hot from the effort.
Jake and Fiona had been talking most of this time, but they naturally tended to pause whenever Jake had to make an extra effort and needed to focus. While Jake had been transferring, they had been silent. After the transfer was complete, Jake looked over to Fiona. It took her a second to realize he was looking at her, then it clicked and they continued their conversation.
But the look on her face, in that one second, made an impression on Jake. She was stiff, not relaxed. Her mouth was slightly open, and she was focused. She looked like she had taken a breath, but not exhaled. It was a strange reaction under the circumstances. But as he thought about it later, without the cloud of alcohol, he realized it was a look of lust: she was intensely turned on. And it showed.
As soon as he backed out, Fiona came over to him, leaned over, and kissed him. She had been wearing only a t-shirt and underwear, and now took off her top. She then turned around and put herself right between his legs. She knew he had limited arm strength, so she grabbed his hands and put them up on her underwear, on her hips. He knew she wanted him to take off her underwear. He started to remove it, slowly. He wasn't trying to tease, it was his limited strength that made it go slow. First one side a little, then the other. He struggled a little with his strength and having sufficient grip and arm strength to slide them down. He finally got them all the way down, and she stepped out of them.
Jake was a little concerned that he had broken the mood taking so long, but he quickly saw that Fiona was wet. Fiona pushed herself closer to him. Jake put his hands on her legs. Fiona bent over the sink, moved even closer to him, positioning herself as close as she could in front of his mouth. Jake pulled her as much as he could and tried to match her sense of urgency. She liked his tongue flat on her, not too fast or slow. He used a little extra pressure this time, sensing the need for her to release.
She did, and she turned around and got on her knees on the mat, right between his legs. He was still wet from the shower. She started to towel him off a little, playfully ignoring his obvious excitement. She was a great tease, and eventually started giving Jake the attention he wanted. But Jake noticed that something seemed different. Fiona was touching his legs, alot. Much more than usual. And it was different than the usual lover's touch. She was not caressing his legs. She was using a much firmer touch. It was almost like a kneading, more massage-like. And then she sometimes seemed to pause. The sensation of difference was strong enough that he kept his eyes open and watched. He saw that when he felt her pause, she was taking a moment to rub herself a little between her legs. His curiosity of what was happening soon gave way to passion, and they turned the night into one that both would remember and sometimes think back to, even well after they broke up.
A few days later, while replaying the night in his mind, Jake began to think more about Fiona's reaction and the difference he had sensed. When she was touching his legs, it was almost as if she was putting just enough pressure on them to feel their thinness, their weakness, almost like a doctor might, but then also with the furtive eroticism that was far from clinical. Jake remembered all the things that the physical therapist had told him about devotees. It made Jake wonder, and he later did ask her if she had heard of devotees or considered herself to be one. She denied both, but Jake wasn't sure if she was telling the truth. He let it go, concluding it really didn't matter so much.
He missed her touch a lot. She was a very affectionate person, and when they were out together, there was no mistake they were a couple. What ended the relationship was the issue of kids. Jake did not want kids, but Fiona wanted several. Jake did not know why he did not want kids. It was just something he never desired. His disability solidified that belief, but he had never felt much more than annoyance when kids were around, particularly noisy ones. Neither could convince the other, and in their hearts both knew that a reluctant parent is not likely to be a good one.
A gentle touch on his shoulder snapped Jake out of his daydream. "We're ready for you now." They took his ticket and he rolled down the jetway. Jake directed the removal of all the wheelchair parts and slid onto the tiny aisle chair used to transfer people. They strapped him in and moved him to the airplane aisle.
"Can you stand at all?" asked the attendant.
"No, you are going to have to lift. And you will need one other person to get my legs."
He had told them they would need 2 people to get him into the seat, but as often happened, they only sent one.
"I'll help," said one of the flight attendants. Together they lifted Jake into his seat, where he would remain for the next 5 hours.
The flight attendant returned after Jake got settled in. "Do you need anything? I am not in first class this trip, but if you need something just let me know."
"No thanks, I'm fine," said Jake.
The flight attendant paused, with a bit of indecision coming over her face. She then leaned in a little closer to him, and in a softer voice, said, "ok, well just let me know if you need anything. I actually used to date a guy in a chair, so I know these flights can be difficult."
The End
