In Which We Are Not Annoyed At All

Yesterday we began discussing Jeremy's Wheelchair Defense System.

See, here's the deal. Jeremy, due to a mix-up with the home health equipment provider, is still in one of those standard indoor-only wheelchairs with the huge crappy wheels and the big handles on the back. Eventually (hopefully) he'll be getting one that is a little more outdoor friendly and doesn't have the huge handles. I'm sure Jer will be really happy when that day comes, and not just because he's tired of getting zero traction.

See, to some people those big handles say "Push me! You must grab and push me even if the occupant of the wheelchair said they didn't need your help! Because they are lying to you, and really they don't know how they ever would have gotten down that hallway without you!" I figure that these are the same people who must have control of the shopping cart at the grocery store and refuse to let anybody else drive. At any rate, it doesn't happen very often, thankfully, but every once in a while some do-gooder decides that Jer can't possibly make it through a doorway/around a corner/up a hill/down the street by himself and take it upon themselves to "help."

This is where the Wheelchair Defense System comes into play. In addition to having the usual defense mechanisms standard to all wheelchairs (spiked hubcaps, caltrops, chainsaw, flamethrower, etc), we'd like to add a couple of sensor pads to the handles of his wheelchair. If an unauthorized person grasps the handles, the pads would administer a moderate electrical shock. This would hopefully discourage the person from attempting to steer Jer after he's asked them not to. Repeated attempts might require more severe measures, but this would at least deter all but the most fervent of "helpers."

Next on the Wheelchair Defense System upgrade list is a loudspeaker. This is because for some unknown reason when we go into a store to get some coffee the occasional clerk seems to have extreme difficulty hearing Jeremy and must ask me what he wants to drink. Use of the loudspeaker, possibly with the siren first to get their attention, will assure that they are able to locate Jeremy and ask him what he wants himself instead of having to relay all messages through me. The Telephone game stopped being cool in the third grade.

Finally we'd be adding a cattle prod for those people who either won't get out of the way when Jeremy is coming or insist on standing really, really close, looming over him, and talking to him very loudly and slowly. Because obviously these people hold the viewpoint that one's ears are connected directly to one's feet and losing the use of one adversely affects the other. This cattle prod could also be used on those who ask Jer questions about himself in order to get a proper lead-in to express their own viewpoints on themselves/the war/the army/politics/their cousin Fred who happened to sort of have the same thing happen and his views on the war/the army/politics. Asking a cursory question so that you can lecture your captive audience for thirty minutes on your personal views is a rather unusual take on what a conversation consists of. If the monologue runs over eight minutes then deploying the cattle prod will prompt a proper pause, allowing Jer to express his viewpoint or make his escape, whichever seems more appropriate.

So there you have it; Jeremy's amazing Wheelchair Defense System. We should get a patent for it. I'm sure it would sell like hotcakes!

~Jess