Gone are the days of clunky wheelchairs seemingly designed to hinder as much as to help – at least for some. The latest promising development in the disability world comes from ex-Royal Marine Phillip Eaglesham, who was almost paralysed after contracting Q-fever on his last day in Afghanistan. When he began to lose strength, he used a Segway to get around and realised how helpful its versatility was. Now that he cannot use one, he has designed a new chair that copies some of the Segway’s features to allow wheelchair users to manoeuvre easily and, most importantly, raise themselves up to eye-level and have a decent conversation.
My electric wheelchair is nowhere near as cool, but I can raise myself to just below standard eye-height. It’s hard to express how much this helps me have a normal life. Yes, of course it means that I can reach things on shelves and whatnot. But it also means I can do typical twentysomething activities such as introduce myself in a noisy environment or even, God forbid, sit at a bar.
Without it, crowded places such as clubs become a nightmare, as does meeting new people. People are conditioned to notice others of a standard height and to patronise those whose heads are more at the level of a child’s. My cerebral palsy makes it hard to project my voice, so being able to raise myself up allows me to engage with others as an equal.
Yet the relevant authorities do not believe that features such as this are important. The NHS wheelchair service will only provide wheelchairs that meet medical needs; independence and social needs are ignored. The result is that decent wheelchairs, and by extension a decent quality of life, are reserved for those who can afford them – and they can be prohibitively expensive. The new design is projected to cost a tidy £10,000.
My friend Anna has spinal muscular atrophy, and relies on a highly specialised chair that can transform into a standing frame to help retain her muscle strength. Last year her old chair malfunctioned – throwing her to the ground, leaving her with sprained ankles. Since then, while she fundraises for a replacement, she has been given a manual chair that she cannot move at all, and a borrowed powerchair that does not meet her needs. The model she needs, that will allow her to go about her daily life, costs £24,000. The NHS provided a voucher for £1,295, the cost of its standard chair. This barely makes a dent in the total sum needed. Over a year later, Anna is finally ready to order the right chair. Others may not be able to work so hard to raise money.
For some disabled people, our wheelchairs are the substitute for our legs. Yet the way we treat disabled people is like asking someone who has broken both legs to pay for the operation to fix the second break – and this from a government that aims to get more of us in work, while remaining indifferent to helping us do so.
Inventions like Eaglesham’s have the potential to make disabled people’s lives much better. But with so many people unable to access a chair that is even remotely suited to their lives and needs, progress seems far off. As technology improves, the possibility of better equipment grows, but so does the gap between those who can and cannot afford it. Only the state can level this cruel inequality.
Wheelchairs have come a long way – shame the NHS hasn’t | Lucy Webster
