Letter to Professors about Disabled Students
This diatribe is addressed to professors, disabled students, and able-bodied students.
Today I was headed to class. I felt great — I was going to arrive 10 minutes early. I’d be able to scope out the classroom, find a comfortable place to park my wheelchair, and spread out my notebooks, textbooks, and homework. My mother-in-law parked my wheelchair van behind university by the handicap accessible entrance. Looking at the dashboard clock I was actually 15 minutes early. I pushed the button to open the door and release the mechanized ramp. Sliding door opened, van lowered, ramp didn’t release. I repeated the process 20 times, with the van on, van off, popping it in drive then back to park, and parking the van at different angles. Nothing helped, class had officially started and I was less than 100 feet away. 15 minutes early turned into a trip back home to have my father-in-law problem shoot my ramp.
As a senior, this was not the first time writing an unfortunate excuse to a professor. There are so many factors the disability crowd contends with that occur behind the scenes. Modern universities provide disability services and should be applauded. However, for professors or fellow students who’re curious, there are impediments no university policy can fix. There is an easy way to better the university experience for handicap students. Further progress means professors and students understanding that disabled students often live lives radically different than theirs. And, their day-to-day can sometimes impede their academic performance.
I’m speaking from the experience of a C6 quadriplegic. Anyone else contending with a disability, feel free to comment your unique challenges/solutions in the comments. I feel I speak for those bound to a wheelchair; those requiring home health services; those with lifelong bowel and bladder routines; those with compromised hand dexterity. I’m writing this, not to tell anybody how to do their job, but to raise awareness and let professors and students know that disabled students — like able bodied students — miss class due to illness, but also miss class for events not always in the minds of the abled.
1) Nurse aides are some of the most caring people on earth. They are paid little and are up to their chin in piss and shit. A lot of disabled people rely on another person to get their day started. You’d think going to college would mean getting your ass motivated, warming up the car, and speeding off towards academia, tunes cranked. However, I can wake up an hour before my aide’s shift fully motivated/excited for the day, and I’m not getting out of bed until they get here. I’ve lucked out with dependable aides but that doesn’t mean even the most reliable aide doesn’t have car trouble or gets ill. On occasion, I’ve had aides not show up, and leave me scrambling to find a replacement — ultimately, making me miss class. I’ve had aides be on time but drop me on the floor, leaving me no choice but to miss class until the fire department can help me off the ground and assess for injury. Professors please note, with some disabled students, you’re relying on them, their nurse, and nurse aide.
2) Sickness hits the disabled harder. A lot of illnesses abled people contend with, disabled people are hospitalized for. If need be, an abled bodied student can go to school with the flu. A quadriplegic, in many cases, can’t control the bowel symptoms that arise with the flu, and because of a compromised respiratory system, phlegm and vomit are dangerous issues — there’s no choice but staying home or being hospitalized.
3) Equipment like wheelchairs, handicap door buttons, wheelchair vans etc., help the disabled lead fulfilling lives. All these things listed have broken on me, and all of these things are essential to life at university. In the introductory story my chair was working fine, and I’m sure the handicap door button was working, but because my van’s ramp was jammed and nonfunctional I missed a class I was 15 minutes early for. Prior to the van ramp story, it was the door button in the back parking lot that was broken — I was half an hour late that day. In the winter most people worry about the vehicle getting stuck. With the disabled crowd, we worry about our vehicle and our wheelchair. Last year, I was late for class after sliding down the length of my sold ice driveway, only to take another 20 minutes to get help up into my van.
4) Out of all the challenges facing the disabled student, few are more daunting than our bowel and bladder routines. The anxiety arises because this obstacle can meet us in the middle of a class, in the middle of silent reading. In my case, I have a Supra pubic catheter. A small hole is made right below the belly button where a tube is inserted into the bladder. The tube runs the length of my inner thigh finally draining into a bag strapped to my calf. Sounds easy enough, but there are times where it needs emptied and I’m trapped in class, petrified to stop the professor to open the door. The tubing can also become kinked or clogged resulting in the same petrifying fear of calling attention to myself. Both the full and/or kinked/clogged catheter causes autonomic dysreflexia. This medical condition allows you to know that something is terribly wrong bellow where you can feel. So, in the middle of a lecture my brain is pulsating, my heart racing, my blood pressure is soaring, and I’m on the verge of a heart attack or stroke.
I know it sounds crazy, with autonomic dysreflexia going on, to not just call on the teacher. But, in my case, I already feel like an oddity to be glanced at, and at the beginning of the semester with a new professor and new classmates it’s hard to describe the feeling of being the other. I’m not even saying that people judge me, if anything, I’m projecting my own fears and insecurities onto them. It would go a very long way if professors knew this and were able to plan for moments where the disabled student needs out of class immediately. I’m mainly writing this because there’s no reason for an English/math/chemistry teacher to know about my particular conditions like autonomic dysreflexia.
My bowel routine consists of getting an enema every other day in order to train my body to defecate in a consistent manageable way. But again with leaving class or needing to skip a class, bowel movements aren’t always consistent. In the interest of moving this discussion forward, I’ll admit to having shit my pants several times at school. It’s humiliating, but I want professors and students to know these day to day realities of being disabled in college.
I wanted to write this because this Fall semester has been particularly challenging due to health and equipment problems. I’m finishing up my degree this year and am moving on to graduate school. But my fear has always been, that new professors are going to think I’m a bad student, regardless of my good academic standing. I think the body is so inherently a part of what we do — including college — that some professors and students might not understand how some of us navigate without use of 70% of it. Just like I can’t really imagine jumping to touch a ceiling anymore, I’m sure there are plenty of abled bodied people that can’t imagine someone dressing you in the morning. Let’s just talk to each other and learn every person’s unique circumstances.
