Fear can be good. Being able to fear is one of those factors that separates mankind from lower life forms, and usually keeps us from taking unnecessary chances that risk our lives, or serious injury.

While not everyone is willing to admit it, it is likely that most of us harbor a fear of something particular. Now that I'm older, and using a power wheelchair, the characteristics of my fears have changed slightly. The edges of most high cliffs are not wheelchair accessible, nor am I able to fit into the flimsy craft that used to propel me over the water.

My fears sometimes pop up in a dream, or reemerge when I find myself in a situation that might involve a risk that could lead to one of my fears becoming reality. I can imagine myself falling overboard from a ferry boat, or off a pier, and not being able to unhook my seatbelt or get my feet out of the shoes that are Velcroed to the foot supports of my wheelchair.

Another fear contributes to my being a safe driver. I can imagine being trapped in my van after a vehicle accident, with an inoperable lift and a risk of fire present. That scenario flashes through my mind whenever I see a news story about a car fire on the freeway, or drive by an accident scene.

With those kinds of thoughts in the back of my mind whenever I start my van, I work at being a better defensive driver. In case something beyond my control occurs and I find myself in one of those accidents, I have taken some steps to increase my chances of escape from the damaged vehicle. I know how to release the pins holding my lift doors in place and, perhaps more importantly, how to direct someone else to release them. I also know how to operate the wheelchair lift manually, in order to deploy it and lower it to the ground.

Carrying a portable ramp, some tools and a fire extinguisher also increases my level of safety. To educate those who would most likely be attempting to remove me from a damaged vehicle, I have taken my van to trainings for area fire departments to demonstrate how my wheelchair is locked into place and how my chair and I might be removed in a true emergency situation. This is just one more factor that we have to deal with that other drivers don't.

My wheelchair lift has failed to operate properly several times, but I have only been trapped in the van on two occasions. The first was on a remote section of California freeway, where I ended up negotiating with the California Highway Patrol to allow me to ride in my wheelchair, in the van, on the back of a flatbed “tow truck.” As a result of that incident, the rules were changed to allow a wheelchair user who is secure in a damaged or inoperable vehicle to stay in place during a ride to a repair shop. That is far safer than trying to get unloaded from a van on the side of a busy highway.

Being trapped anywhere is one of those things that usually happens after business hours or on a weekend, when help is hard to find. The last time it happened to me was this week, at 5 p.m., as I was loading into my van in a rainy downtown parking lot. After locking in place beneath the steering wheel, I lifted the switch that would fold the wheelchair lift platform into the van and close the doors. That action was greeted with a hissing sound as hydraulic fluid sprayed into the air and the lift slowly dropped to the ground.



The folding action of the lift had pinched a hydraulic line. While I wonder what the engineer was thinking who designed the lift so that the hydraulic line could be pinched, there wasn't much time to ponder that because I had to get out of the van somehow. That is a bit complicated when the lift platform is sitting on the ground and I am still in the van. The designer of the lift also failed to design any type of backup mechanism for raising the lift if the hydraulic system was not intact. My portable ramp was too short to help get me out of the van, and I had no idea how the lift could be raised and the doors closed without the hydraulics.

Sometimes good customer service can make the difference between a problem being solved or becoming an even bigger problem. There is no wheelchair van repair facility in my hometown, but Absolute Mobility is located about 30 miles away. A quick phone call to owners Eddie and Amanda Riveira as they were closing for the day resulted in a promise to help me out; they brought a rear-entry van out of their showroom and braved the rush-hour traffic to see how they could assist. It is important to note that I did not purchase this van or the wheelchair lift from Absolute Mobility, but they were willing to go out of their way to help in any way possible.

It took about an hour of effort on the part of Eddie Riveira and four volunteers, but they were able to back the rear-entry van up to my open van doors so I could roll down their ramp into their van. Using straps, cables, ingenuity, pulleys, cunning, ropes and brute strength, Eddie and the volunteers were finally able to get the lift folded into the van and the doors closed most of the way so that a flatbed tow truck could haul it to their shop for repairs.

As I sit here, in the warmth and safety of my home, I am sure of two things. The first is the knowledge that good customer service is an important ingredient to have when things go wrong. The second thing is the fact that my fears are actually based on reality, because things do go wrong.

© 2012 Michael Collins

Being an advocate for emergency preparedness, fire protection, and living life safely is a role that I take very seriously. It probably started shortly after I graduated from high school, as I became a volunteer fireman in my hometown. During a railroad career spanning 23 years, I witnessed many serious derailments and crossing accidents, and natural disasters of all types.

Inevitably, it seems that people are never prepared for the different types of emergencies that seem to enter our lives so often. I was reminded of this during a major snow and ice storm that hit the Pacific Northwest in mid-January. We all knew it was coming, as the forecasting models promised that the warm rains would override cold air streaming down from the north and would result in unspecified amounts of snow, wind and potential icing.

This was not the first time that snow has been predicted here, as heavy snows usually occur three or four times a decade in this area. Unlike the Midwest and Northeast states that see heavy snow every year, Washington State and its numerous cities on the western side of the Cascade Mountains have very few snowplows or sanding trucks. We do have steep hills that make many streets and highways impassable whenever they become covered with snow or ice.

Despite the warnings, many people were completely unprepared when this year’s series of storms arrived as predicted. There was the usual rush at the grocery stores and hardware outlets as people stocked up on snow shovels, salt, sand, water and last-minute grocery items. Because we have so much rain in this area, most people felt that whatever snow might arrive would be short-lived. Unfortunately, that was not the case this time.

Those of us who are disabled face greater challenges when it comes to being prepared for and remaining safe during the type of weather disasters that occurred here. We need to take special heed of the warnings and inventory our supplies to make sure that we will not be caught short if the situation extends several days or even weeks, as has happened in the past.

Like all good advocates for emergency preparedness, I keep a good supply of water, food and other emergency supplies in the house at all times. This year I went a step further and purchased an emergency generator that would be able to power up my refrigerator/freezer,furnace blower, microwave and television set if the power went out. With any amount of wind, ice and snow, power outages are a sure thing in this area since we are the Evergreen State and surrounded by huge trees in all directions. When their limbs become heavy with snow and ice, these trees lose those limbs or topple over; they block roads, pull down power lines and become a danger to anything beneath them.

My wheelchair van has basic emergency supplies stowed in the back, just in case I should ever be trapped somewhere by ice and snow. Tire chains, portable ramps, a snow shovel, first aid supplies, granola bars and a blanket can come in handy when stranded by any type of storm. As long as my attendants can reach my house to get me up in the morning and put me to bed at night, I am prepared for just about anything. Fortunately my primary attendant has a vehicle with four-wheel drive and tire chains, so I was covered in that area. That turned out to be a good thing, as I was unable to get out of my house, or out of my driveway, for eight days due to the snow and ice.

People in the Pacific Northwest stay glued to their television sets watching round-the-clock coverage of major snow or windstorms much as the people of southern California are transfixed by frequent police chases on Los Angeles freeways. Our local news media dress up in color-coordinated storm jackets and supersede all national programming with their constant updates on traffic conditions, weather radar, flight cancellations and stories about tragedies that have struck individuals or whole communities.



(Photo credit: Spokane's KHQ-TV)

The news stories pointed out the risks to people with disabilities by actually showing a home that was hit by a fallen tree and that was occupied by someone who was quadriplegic. Fortunately no one in the home was injured when the tree blew over. Another news story covered a family that was walking over a mile with gas cans to fuel the generator that was powering the ventilator that was keeping their father with ALS alive. The snow, ice and trees laying across the roads had made them impassable, and made it impossible to get him transported to a nearby hospital or other facility with a reliable power supply. In some communities, power outages made it impossible to pump gasoline, so those who were unprepared faced the prospect of their generators being unable to provide emergency power.

This was, of course, a disaster that impacted everyone--not just people with disabilities. Despite the forewarning, numerous accidents and clogged roadways were caused by people trying to drive without tire chains or four-wheel drive. A few people who left their stranded vehicles to walk for help were struck by other cars, with disastrous results. Side or residential streets were not plowed until days after the initial storm, and at one time about 350,000 homes were without power. For some people, those power outages lasted almost two weeks. In at least one instance, someone ignored the broadcast warnings and brought a barbecue into the house to warm their family. Fortunately those family members ended up hospitalized, but alive.

Don’t get me wrong. This was not a disaster on the scale of Hurricane Katrina, or even the flurry of tornadoes that ravaged the southern United States last year. Most of the residents of the Pacific Northwest made it out alive, and with a few exceptions our property will be restored to its original condition by next summer. Hopefully those who were unprepared have learned a few lessons from this relatively minor brush with disaster.

This storm had its positive aspects too. There were literally hundreds of people who took in friends and distant family members whose homes were without power or heat. Neighbors who don’t speak throughout the year checked up on or delivered food to those nearby who were elderly or unable to leave their homes for other reasons. Bands of young people armed with snow shovels wandered the sidewalks looking for opportunities to help people who had not been able to shovel their own walkways and driveways. Those who helped others despite their own challenges epitomize the spirit of preparedness, as few of us are able to survive real emergencies without some help from others.

The rains have now washed away the snow, but we should not forget the lessons learned during this snowy January.
Are you and those you love and care for, whether relatives or not, fully prepared for whatever new challenges this year might bring? If not, perhaps you should get prepared so you won’t become a victim when the next disaster strikes—as it surely will.

© 2012 Michael Collins

A few inches can make quite a difference in what kind of day we have. In my case it was 96 inches: just eight feet! How difficult could it be to respect that distance by keeping it clear, especially when the entire space was striped? It was apparently too difficult for the (insert derogatory noun here) who parked right next to the ‘van from hell’ on a sunny Sunday afternoon. Read More

People who live with paralysis support a huge network of medical professionals and related suppliers. The costs associated with keeping us alive and healthy can easily exceed $2 million in a lifetime—even without medical complications. They tell me that the six months I spent in rehab after my injury cost my insurance company, and earned the hospital and those who treated me, over $500,000. With that in mind, you would think that we would get treated with more respect. Read More

One of the very important lessons I’ve learned in this life is that the best laid plans don't always turn out as intended. As you learned in my last blog (Road Trippin’), plans for my road trip to Hollywood were very thorough and almost complete at the time it was written.

Alas, I am sorry to report that my plans for the road trip have been “recalled,” like a Toyota with a bad set of brakes. Unrest in the Middle East, coupled with rampant speculation on the part of commodities brokers, raised the price of gasoline on the West Coast to a point where it was simply not feasible to take the road trip when a first-class flight was even cheaper.

How could that be possible? First, you need to understand that the cost of a gallon of gas exceeds $4 virtually everywhere in the West. This is especially true along the major freeways, which was my preferred routing for this trip. Downhill, with a tail wind, I am lucky if I get 14 miles per gallon with the “van from hell.” During the four days of driving my contribution to the local economies along my route would have been significant, and my carbon footprint would have been noticed as well.

While driving was more expensive than flying once the gas price increased, I still needed to justify giving up 38 hours of freeway driving in favor of less than seven hours of flight time. It is not possible to see the California wildflowers or the green mountains of southern Oregon when cruising above the clouds at 38,000 feet. I traded that vista for a series of snowcapped mountains towering above the surrounding foothills and often jutting above the clouds. As we neared Los Angeles, the jagged San Andreas Fault paralleled our route on the left and the blue Pacific Ocean formed a backdrop on our right. It was a beautiful beginning which matched the 80° weather which awaited us in Los Angeles.

A similar trade-off occurred in the culinary department, as there would be no fast food purchased next to the gas stations during our periodic stops for refueling. Instead, we were pampered by flight attendants who interrupted our television viewing with several courses of gourmet food that had been prepared in advance by the airline chefs.

During the past 22 years, our nation's airlines have done whatever possible to assure that some kind of glitch occurred on most of my flights. This has provided material for several articles about flying, especially about flying with a power wheelchair. This wasn't one of those trips. We flew on Virgin America Airlines for the first time, and they lived up to their self-proclaimed rating as one of the best.

The check-in process, with three suitcases and a shower chair, took less than five minutes. We virtually walked through the TSA security screening, even though a new employee had to be prompted about what to check next when it came to my wheelchair and me. The plane was in early, so I was loaded long before fellow passengers started jostling me as they walked down the aisle with their carry-ons. Upon arrival at our destination, two strong people showed up with an aisle chair and had me unloaded and into my power chair in the jetway as soon as the last of my fellow passengers had deplaned. For one of the few times in my traveling career, we arrived at the baggage carousel prior to the time our suitcases came down the chute.

The one fly in the ointment was SuperShuttle. I called ahead and made a reservation for a lift-equipped van, yet it took 30 minutes for one to arrive as we waited at curbside. As if that wait wasn't long enough, our driver had to make two complete trips around the airport before the van was filled with passengers to his satisfaction. If he hadn't been able to find five people heading to our destination in Hollywood, I think he might still be driving around that airport.

Los Angeles freeways, especially during rush hour, have earned a reputation for their sluggish pace. Our driver avoided those freeways and instead decided to take surface streets. That decision resulted in a 30-minute drive that took almost 2 hours to complete, due to the heavy traffic. Even with those delays, I was checking into our hotel in Hollywood eight hours after leaving my house in the morning.

While we wandered amongst the stars on the Walk of Fame that evening, I reflected on how easy it had been to arrive at our destination more than a day ahead of what would have been possible if driving. We were able to spend an extra day in the Los Angeles area, and to arrive home a day earlier than planned--for the same cost.

This is definitely not the end of “road tripping,” as there are many enticing destinations that cannot be reached by air. The price of gas will undoubtedly return to Earth again once the economy improves, and I will be waiting to turn the key and head out for another adventure. Until then each trip will be evaluated carefully to assure that the experience justifies the cost.

That might be a good philosophy to apply in all aspects of our life, but what fun would that be?

© 2011 Michael Collins

Spring! It's that time of year again. Daffodils are blooming and the grass is turning green. The passes are clear of snow, although it is piled high in the surrounding mountains. It seems like the perfect time to plan the first road trip of the year.

Unlike many of my fellow drivers on the highways today, it is not possible for me to simply jump into the car with an overnight bag and hit the road. Quadriplegia makes every overnight trip a complicated affair, but careful planning and a positive attitude can also make it a delightful experience.

I am fortunate to have driven over 600,000 miles in my lifetime, and most of it was done without accidents (or tickets) to mar the trips. During that time I've driven through about half of the United States, and eventually would like to see the other half from the ground instead of from the air. My other good fortune is to have a van with driving controls set up to match my needs, which has allowed me to drive for up to 14 hours with only minimal stops.

The impetus for this first road trip will be my attendance at the annual awards gala for my favorite humanitarian organization, UCP Wheels for Humanity, which will be held in Hollywood in early April. The trip from my home in Washington State requires a drive of about 1140 miles in each direction. After adding in the miles for a few side trips to buy gas and food, the roundtrip should be about 2,400 miles. I hope to get 15 mpg and may be able to get by with 160 gallons of gas. Unfortunately, now that the unrest in the Middle East has pushed the price of gasoline almost as high as bottled water, I’m estimating that cost at about $670 for the trip.

Some of you are probably wondering why anyone would drive that distance instead of flying. Airline tickets for the same destination run about $550, plus baggage fees and airport parking. Multiply that times two for the personal care attendant who would travel with me because of the length of the trip. At the other end of the flight it would be necessary to use SuperShuttle or a similar van service to get back and forth between the airport and the hotel, and no transportation would be available for local visits away from the public transit corridors.

Air travel also requires one to arrive at the airport two hours in advance of the flight, and to endure the manhandling that accompanies transfers between wheelchairs and airline seats. Last but not least, there is a concern that my power wheelchair may not arrive at my destination in the same shape it was in when it was turned over to the air carrier to put in the belly of the plane. Besides, coast-to-coast trips don't usually have an option of driving so when a shorter trip is possible it feels good to be able to drive.

Springtime driving in the West includes much green, both in the forests and rolling hills or farmland. There is a chance of timing it right in order to see the wildflowers bloom in the hills of California, with a palette of beautiful hues that fade away in a few brief weeks. It is also an easy drive, with a four lane freeway the entire distance. By contrast, the trip by air usually provides only a view of mountain tops sticking above the clouds, and even less to see from an aisle seat.

Most of the preparations have been completed, with tires rotated and balanced. The van has had its oil changed and is lubricated. Tire chains and a roadside emergency kit, including a small snow shovel, are stored in the back just in case a spring shower of that white stuff is encountered. Hotel reservations have been made for both legs of the trip, based on past experience on the same route. My spare shower chair will be loaded soon, along with a suitcase full of supplies and clothing for the trip. We’ll also pack some bottles of water and a few granola bars, just in case delays are encountered.

This will be the first long trip for the van from hell, as the three times it has traveled cross-country have been on the back of a truck. Much has been invested to make it suitable and safe for me to drive, and I plan to be able to attest to the positive aspects of this trip in a future blog. Wish me luck!

© 2011 Michael Collins

Allowing another person to move or drive our vehicles is usually no big deal in our society today. Fancy restaurants and casinos, as well as some exclusive shopping malls, hospitals and theaters, offer valet parking at a price. For those of us who drive wheelchair vans that require loading from the side, it is not unusual to be asking policemen, security guards and even nearby pedestrians to step in and move the vehicle so that the lift can be deployed when other drivers park besides us--even though the unloading zones might be clearly marked.

The real difference between the average family car and most wheelchair vans lies in the presence of hand controls, and perhaps even more complex electronics for starting and shifting the vehicle. Another common difference is the price, which can equal that of a luxury sports car. In my last posting I explained how the cost of the van I purchased from eBay had risen to $78,000. That fact alone should make one think twice before letting an untrained individual operate an adapted vehicle.

My van is a full-sized vehicle, equipped with a side wheelchair lift, and has a 9-inch lowered floor so that I can see clearly out of the windshield. It also allows me to haul coworkers or materials to meetings, and to haul my three grandsons in the back seat without crowding. It has a powerful engine, but is heavy and only gets about 12 miles per gallon. Because of that, it is also a bit more difficult to stop.

The charge for shipping my van from California to Virginia was about $1500, but fortunately it was paid by my new employer even though the van did not arrive until about three months after I started my job. After the extended period sitting in the body shop while it was being repaired, and enduring a weeklong trip across country on the back of a transport truck, I once again had to purchase two new batteries. Even so, it was great to have my van back under my control again so that I could enjoy the many museums and scenic wonders in the area without being restricted to public transportation options.

On one of those weekend trips, I had the opportunity to test out the stopping power when using a hand control brake. A vehicle had stopped unexpectedly on the highway in front of me, to make a left-hand turn into a private road, and despite pushing on the hand control as hard as possible I still struck the rear of the car ahead. The result was a ticket for failing to stop, $100 for repairing the dent in my bumper, and an unknown cost for significant damage to the back of the station wagon that was paid by my insurance. Thankfully no one was injured, but the accident also resulted in an increase in my insurance premiums going forward.

Having learned (the hard way) about the difficulty of bringing the van to an emergency stop, I paid another $3000 to have a brake booster installed so that it would require less pressure on the hand control when braking. Even with the booster, trying to hold the hand control brake tight while waiting at a stop light on the steep uphills of Seattle is a real adventure.

In January of this year, I resigned from my job in Washington, DC and moved west to the Washington area where I was raised. That required me to have my van transported by truck once again, this time at my own expense, and if you’re considering such services we should probably talk first. Searching on the Internet, I was faced with the choice of about 100 providers who offered to ship the van for costs ranging from $700-$3000. I contracted for shipping at about $1200, figuring that paying more would result in better service, and paid the nonrefundable $100 fee that was required. Three weeks later, after repeated failures to get anyone from that transport broker to call me back and explain why my van had not yet been picked up, I canceled the order and forfeited the deposit.

I now realize that there are auto transport brokers operating under different company names, sometimes working from in the same office. They simply enter into an agreement to ship a vehicle, collect the non-refundable deposit, then post the information on an electronic bulletin board where truckers who happen to be going the right direction can pick up the vehicle and be paid a reduced fee.

This time I contracted with the moving company that was hauling my household goods, at about twice the cost. I knew they had a great reputation, but I even purchased $20,000 worth of additional insurance in case something happened en route. That seemed improbable, but I am normally fairly cautious anyway. A series of major snowstorms that struck the mid-Atlantic region delayed shipping of my van once again, but about 45 days later I was advised that it had been picked up. We would soon be reunited!

About four days later I received a call from a claims adjuster for the moving company who advised that the driver had called her from Indiana and stated that he had apparently struck an overpass somewhere along the way and the roof of my van was “scraped.” As you probably know, these large transport trucks are usually two levels, so they can hold up to 10 vehicles at a time. It was inconceivable to me that any professional transport driver would depart on such a trip without measuring the height of his load, but that is apparently what happened.

When the transport truck arrived at my home, I found that the entire roof of the van had been collapsed, the front windshield was broken, water was leaking into the van, and two of the front doors would not close all the way. After a $20,000 repair which included an entire new roof and the purchase of more new batteries, I finally am driving my “bargain van” on a regular basis. Unfortunately that cost of independence for this particular vehicle has now risen to about $105,000, but I’m still happy to be driving myself wherever I want to go anyway. I wish that all of my peers were able to do the same.

© 2010 Michael Collins

Thanks to a spinal cord injury in 1988, I now drive a wheelchair van. I consider myself very lucky in this respect, but you can come to your own conclusions about that.

Getting to this point has been a multistep process. While still in the hospital during six months of rehab, I was able to purchase a used van that would allow me to ride as a passenger while others drove. The previous owners lived in Arizona, and had removed all of the cold weather equipment from the engine so that the frigid temperatures in Northeast Washington wreaked havoc on it during the winter months. The repair bills during the five years that I owned it equaled the purchase price. The frustration and fear endured while letting others transport me was priceless.

In 1993 I graduated to a vehicle that I could drive myself. I purchased a new van, and the Division of Vocational Rehabilitation paid for the necessary modifications needed for me to drive it. The full-sized van with a wheelchair lift allowed me to travel independently, and to drive seated in my wheelchair without transferring. On the day I got my driver’s license I drove 160 miles to park on a Pacific Beach and unload onto the packed sand. The freedom to travel by myself was exhilarating, and it allowed me to drive extensively for work and leisure.

Early in 2007 a friend called to let me know that he had spotted a vehicle on eBay that looked like something I could use to replace my old van It was a 2006 model with less than 4,000 miles on it and was located in Iowa. Already equipped with a wheelchair lift and hand controls, it seemed like a reasonable deal for $34,000.

After paying an extra $2,000 to have it transported by truck to my home in California, my almost-new van only needed replacement of two batteries to get it running. Oh yes, I also discovered that the lift could not handle the combined weight of me and my heavy wheelchair and the seat was not removable so that I could drive from my wheelchair. There was also the matter of the hand controls, which were a type that I could not use. $15,000 in modifications later, the van had a new lift, a power steering booster, new hand controls, relocated switches and some other changes that made it safe for me to drive. The price of independence was getting steeper.

While the van was being re-modified, I was hired for a job which required me to move cross-country from California. As soon as the “new” van was delivered to me, I visited the local mall to grab a couple of last-minute items I would need in Virginia. The transport company was scheduled to pick up the van the following week.

While I was shopping, another driver decided to ignore the ‘hash marks’ painted on the pavement and parked next to my van. In Sacramento County the penalty for parking in that marked area is over $1000, so I asked mall security to have police called to ticket the car and have it towed away. A well-meaning security guard showed up first, and offered to move the van so I could get in. Following my instructions and operating the van from a standing position using the hand controls, he backed it out of the parking space and I told him to put it in park so that I could go around the front of the van and see if cleasred the offending car so I could get on the lift once the side doors were opened.

Big mistake!

Just as I cleared the front of the van, it suddenly surged forward and struck a car that was parked next to me. Bouncing off it in a shower of glass and chrome, engine revving, the van continued to accelerate until it struck a large concrete pillar next to the entrance of the mall, narrowly missing two shoppers. At that point the security guard struck his head on the visor and fell to the floor while the van rolled backwards, engine not running, into a parked pickup truck.


Even though the security guard was knocked unconscious when the van struck the mall, he was not seriously injured and was hospitalized only overnight. While I hoped that my insurance company would total the vehicle and simply buy me a new one, they insisted it could be repaired in three weeks--for $15,000.

Three months later, after repairs costing $25,000, the van was shipped East by truck again--all the way to Virginia. Thankfully I was working in the nation’s capitol, so public transportation could be used for the daily commute in the interim. With the arrival of my van, even with the $78,000 that had been spent on it already—plus the cost of replacing another two dead batteries--perhaps I would finally be able to enjoy driving it on a regular basis. I should have known by then that this van would not make that easy, as the cost of driving independently would soon rise again.

©2010 Michael Collins