Several years ago, a woman from another country was my regular coiffeur, or however you spell it, cutting my hair in her own salon. She informed me that multiple customers had told her they didn't want to come any more because so many people in wheelchairs were always there. I decided I might someday be in a wheelchair for even a short time. I didn't like their attitude.
Since then, someone I knew went to Europe and the UK and mentioned that they were less concerned about helping handicapped persons than the US is.
(Forget the ramps and such--get along the best you can.)
I'm lucky to be here.
For various reasons, I now have a different woman cutting and styling my hair.
And now, without much warning, I use a walker. Sitting in the front row without it, I am the still the woman who could probably make you laugh. Walking to the ladies' room with the walker, who am I?