Clement Street

Labor Day Weekend and the sun is out again in SF. Amazing and wonderful. We went for a walk to Clement Street to buy some veggies at the one of the good Chinese markets. We loaded Maggie into her chair and started the ½ mile stroll over there. Brisco the wonder dog comes along too. Maggie holds his leash, which often makes passing drivers do a double take. He is much more compliant when Maggie’s in charge. In fact, I let him pull the wheelchair for a while. He’s part Husky, so it’s in his blood. The non Husky part of him cannot pull in a straight line, though. I can let go, but have to keep my hand about two inches above the handle for a fast override to keep them from veering into the street.

Clement Street is an international little street. There are people of every nationality, and many different languages filling the air. It is a busy place and very difficult to navigate with a wheelchair and a dog. It is crowded with people coming in and out of the many shops. The occasional bus shelter takes up precious sidewalk room too and people crowd behind it in a stream of pedestrian frenzy. Some of the shops, the vegetable store in particular, attracts customers with bins stored outside on the sidewalk, making the sidewalk narrower still for the crowds of people walking by.

There is zero room for Maggie’s wheelchair inside the store. This is not a complaint a la ADA. It’s a reality. There’s barely enough room for customers on two legs in there. Maggie, Brisco and I wait outside, and take up our own sidewalk space. If people are annoyed they don’t show it. They are too busy staring at Maggie in her wheelchair holding the dog straining to find Steve in the store, lest he fail to return.

I watch two women meticulously examining every string bean to determine which ones they will purchase. I don’t have the luxury of examining each bean and quickly throw a large handful in a bag and shout to Steve in the back of the store that he needs to add these to the basket. This brings additional stares. Mothers walk by and eye us out of the corner of their eyes; the child behind her tries to do the same thing, but he hasn’t mastered his mother’s sideways stare and just gapes open mouthed. My friendly “hellos” make then him away in embarrassment. I just laugh. I know the best is yet to come. And it does.

Maggie needs her trach suctioned. She can’t go very long without being suctioned. We always have the suction machine with us. It hangs off the back of her wheelchair when we’re out, or is next to her on the floor or in bed when we’re home. I press the button and the machine starts its annoying hum. (Think dentist chair.) Everyone just stopped. The buzz of the street was replaced by the buzz of the machine. And I had to do it about four times while we were standing there, partially blocking the busy sidewalk. The only ones unfazed were Steve, Maggie, Brisco and me. I’m not sure why this freaks people out so much. But it always does. After a while they settle down and realize it’s just the way it is, but we weren’t there long enough for that today.

Vegetables in hand, we start the walk home. The stares continue. I am used to the stares. Sometimes they really piss me off and sometimes they amuse me, but generally they don’t phase me at all. I always notice, but generally I just don’t care. Today for some reason it was amusing.

We need to take better advantage of these situations. If nothing else, we should lunge for the freshest veggies while people are reacting.