Adventure, misgivings, and universal design

On my way for an X-ray earlier today, I had to jump on a Zoom call. I parked in a familiar parking lot – Cannonball Cafe – had my call, and then went in for a coffee.

X-ray says all looks good, and I'm waiting for the doctor's diagnosis.

Today marks three weeks since, two Mondays ago, on a public holiday, my friends and I took their dogs to a private beach to let them run around. We had been working hard for a while, so it was also our getaway. Unfortunately, while doing my usual exploration and admiration of the environment – in this case, a fantastic rock formation – I did something I don't normally do, especially when not wearing reef shoes. I walked across a mossy rock and slipped off, all my body's weight going onto my left ankle.

I felt a sharp pain travel up my leg and into my neck. "It's broken!" I said to myself. Adrenaline kicked in, and I sat down to assess the damage.

My foot started swelling, and I couldn't walk on it. My friend, who most know as my big brother, had to help me back to where our bags were. With a makeshift crutch, a length of bamboo he found on the beach, he also had to help me back up – to get to the beach, you have to drive through the gates of the property, drive all the way up and over a road that ends before some stairs. The road had water damage, so the car couldn't go any closer. We then walked down this road and arrived at a lot of stairs. Once you descend these stairs, you arrive at the beach – to where the car was parked.

Needless to say, I've been on crutches ever since. I've learned about muscles and aches I've never felt before. I've had many injuries but never needed crutches before.

The phrase "Walk in my shoes before you tell me what to do" has always resonated with me in different ways. It's what I think allowed me to embrace a certain level of vulnerability and empathy. I'm not speaking about my shoes; instead, I refer to able-bodied people telling those with various degrees of challenges what to do and how to do things.

Perhaps Depeche Mode sang it better, "Try walking in my shoes..."

I live in a very participatory environment, where there's always something to do, and we all help with various chores and work. I was very active the entire time, and I still have a little way to go until healing.

The short time I've been on crutches, which is temporary, has made me experience the horrible environmental designs out there. The very basic principle of design is function, and evidently, that perception has been very limited for a very long time. From the hospital to the supermarket, picking up groceries, carrying fast food, it's all horrible. And it makes me think about people who have more long-term living experience, whether on crutches or some other physical challenge. Mental challenges are probably nightmarish... but my experience so far makes me think heavily about universal design.

I know these challenges are variables, they're exceptions to the norms of our society. I'm not blaming anyone; we designed a society based on the bell curve thinking, where the optimal human being was the focus… but I don't believe we need to experience physical challenges to design universally. We can simply think differently and use empathy in observing what those with challenges have to deal with.

I observed what happened in the pandemic, and I saw things that many of us have always complained about become serious problems during a no-contact reality. It can always be better, but we cannot be lazy, dismissive, and hurried to find quick solutions. That much I know.

– Thought over. Yes, I asked for images for my own keeping. I will be receiving them on a disk at some point... now, I have to find a CD player!