I feel like I’ve spent my entire life wandering around with my eyes half-shut, and today, suddenly, they’ve been prised wide open. One thing is certain, nothing will ever be the same again. I spent most of today sitting down. As a busy person, holding down about ten jobs, this is unusual, even more so as I spent it as an able-bodied person in a wheelchair. Why do such a thing voluntarily? There are many who disagree strongly with activities which involve people without disabilities attempting to emulate the experience of disability, often through temporary modifications, in artificial environments, led by individuals with little or no experience of disability. This is often referred to as Disability Aw areness Training, and can be interpreted as patronising or demeaning to people with disabilities. That was not my aim.

a Contributor is the author of 113 articles including 'A day in the life of Jimmy McIntosh' from May's Leither

Zoom In

I am writing the biography of a remarkable man, Jimmy McIntosh. Jimmy has spent most of his life imprisoned, not by his cerebral palsy, but by the attitudes of society towards it. Confined to an institution for almost 40 years, he has nevertheless made it his life’s work to fight for what he believes in. Namely, helping others by ensuring their voices are heard. In Gogarburn Hospital, he campaigned for people in long stay hospitals to have the right to vote and, despite repeated setbacks, he eventually won that right. He chaired numerous committees and, in 2005, received an MBE for his voluntary work. All this despite the abuse and neglect he suffered in Gogarburn, and the intense victimisation he and his new wife experienced when they set up home together. Jimmy’s is the ultimate story of a multitude of negatives turned into bright, shining, positives. For me, there was no question his story had to be told. The question was, how could I write about his life, having never experienced anything close to it?

Thus the wheelchair. Jimmy, graciously, gave my plan his blessing and, in an act of typical generosity, offered me the use of his own wheelchair. The first thing I noticed was the loss of independence and control I felt. From now on, what had been habitually automatic, would no longer be possible, my needs would be delivered by someone else. At the bus stop we were reminded how long everything takes in a wheelchair: three buses went by before we could get on one, the single wheelchair space available on each already occupied by buggies or a person with a physical disability. Once we reached central Edinburgh, the surrounding beauty and heritage paled into insignificance, as I realised what a difficult place it is for people with physical disabilities to get around in. Steps, of course, are impossible. Stunning and ancient architecture does not lend itself well to the wheelchair… So we went to Princes Mall. After four attempts – because the lift doors kept shutting too quickly – we finally got into the lift. Imagine, as Jimmy often does, that you had an important meeting and you couldn’t even get into the lift? Everything must be meticulously planned well in advance in order for him to honour his commitments.

In one shop, someone said to the person supporting me, “Could you move her please?” After that comment, being bumped several times by a fellow customer’s suitcase did not seem to matter much! The blow was softened by the warmth of the check out staff. Little kindnesses…I must add that I was noticeably calmer and passive in these situations than I ever would have been in my role as Jimmy’s support worker. In that role, I feel strong emotions when a perceived injustice occurs. Whereas in my temporary role as Jimmy, I subconsciously reacted as he would – allowing such events to wash over him, in the deeper knowledge that there are more important causes to fight for.

Our next stop was Waverley station, since Jimmy spends much of his time travelling to meetings by train. We booked tickets for Haymarket only to be told when we reached the departure platform that our destination station was not wheel chair accessible! The station manager arrived within minutes and radioed a taxi for us, a generous yet fair gesture, given that we had Jimmy Mc Intosh bought our tickets in good faith. Getting into said taxi proved difficult, two parallel ramps are used, and if they are not lined up precisely with the chair’s wheels, it becomes an impossible task. The way the driver referred to me during this operation did not improve matters, and my feelings of being objectified began to return. However the same taxi driver did regard as scandalous the difficulties Haymarket station presented to people with disabilities, and I wholeheartedly agreed. I have since been informed that refurbishments to the station are not scheduled before 2020, until which time this problem will remain an obstacle to travel in and out of Edinburgh for many disabled people.

What did I learn? How to prioritise information verbally. Activities like shopping, going to the toilet, or crossing the road, are fraught with potential obstacles, rather challenges, to be overcome in twice the allotted time. Being treated with respect and dignity? This ran the gamut from being stared at, ignored, and spoken to through the person supporting me, to acts of extraordinary kindness, which will stay with me forever…Greater still, a deep respect for Jimmy and his work, despite everything that stands in his path, and a renewed passion for writing about his life in order to share it with others. An enhanced understanding of the issues which may present difficulties to wheelchair users and how these may be overcome. Lastly, relationships with others are what matter most in life. Which is to say, the ability to be able to pass on information, through no matter what medium, is essential.

Jimmy, through his life’s work for people who are institutionalised, has proved, time and again, that