Mary’s Wheelchair

By Helen Brunton

Many years ago, I had a friend, Mary, who was paraplegic and living alone in a one-storey home. She had a hand-driven car. She was stout and muscular, and could swing herself into and off of her wheelchair and toilet seat -- until she got arthritis in her arms.

The only solution offered by the visiting nurse was a trapeze hanging above her bed. Mary was to use it to reach up and pull herself to a sitting position. The movements almost pulled her arms from their sockets! She said she couldn’t reach up and swing herself into her wheelchair or onto the toilet anymore. She was stuck in bed! The nurse said that Mary’s only alternative was to end her days in a nursing home.

"Mary," I said, "We’re two intelligent women. We’ve got to find another answer. Let’s experiment."

I got a discarded wheelchair from the wheelchair repair man and helped Mary into it. I then crawled under it from the rear, and marked and cut a hole in the seat under her rectum and urethra (about 10" x 4"). At a cafeteria supply store, we bought a metal heating utensil (pot) of the necessary dimensions, roughly 6" x 10", with a "flange" (a protruding rim to hold it in place on a counter).

I also bought a metal drawer track, from a hardware store, the depth of the seat from front to back, approximately 18". The double track was to accommodate a sheet of metal of the appropriate size, to cover the 6" x 10" dish container and support Mary’s bottom.

I took the old wheelchair and metal tracks to a friendly shoe repairman, and he installed a sturdy "sole" leather seat (such as is used in work boots). He also cut the necessary hole and installed the tracks.

All Mary had to do was remove the container from her front, between her legs, rinse it after use, run it under the seat on the metal tracks, and run in the metal sheet on top, along the other track, to give her bottom support. She added a small, soft cushion for comfort.

All this happened back in the pre-pantyhose days. Every woman’s home had
a basket of silk stockings to be mended. We sewed several, heel to toe, and made long soft ropes (I can’t remember if we braided them to make them stronger). We passed one across her lap when in a sitting position in bed, and fastened its ends to either bedpost at the foot of her bed. To sit up, she twisted the long, soft rope around her wrists and pulled herself to a sitting position.

Similar ropes fastened to the sides of her bed frame helped her turn from side to side. When not in use, they lay inconspicuously under the pretty counterpane.

The whole setup cost less than $80. Our plumber and shoe repair helpers were delighted with the success of their contributions.

Mary was able to live alone and self-sufficiently in her own lovely home, surrounded by her old friends and neighbours, until her death several years later.

I contacted the head representative of a wheelchair manufacturing company in Ontario and he saw Mary’s wheelchair, but expressed no interest in adding its features to any of their wheelchairs. Perhaps this will benefit some readers of ABILITIES.

One more thing: Mary always wore slacks, and we split them up the back.

(Helen Brunton is in her 90s and lives in a seniors’ residence in Toronto, Ontario.)