Wheelchair Glamour: Myth or Worthy Goal?

I went home to visit my parents a few weeks ago and, like clockwork, approximately one hour after my arrival and once the exhilaration of seeing me had worn off, my mom took one look at my wheelchair. I knew I was in trouble. I think she looked less disgusted when my now-senile dog brought a dead rat inside and dropped it in the living room. (Ok, that never happened, but if it did, she would look less disgusted than she did looking at my chair).

"NORA, don't you ever CLEAN this thing? You know, the poor homeless people on the street corners have chairs that look nicer than yours right now! This chair is an extension of your body. Would you go two months without showering or brushing your teeth?"

[And just in case there is any question, NO! I would not go two months without showering or brushing. I am a steadfast showerer/tooth-brusher.]

She then proceeded to clean my wheelchair from top to bottom. I admit, it looked fantastic. I promised to clean it once a week--a promise I have adhered to vigorously (hi, Mom!).

Even though I dread my mom's disapproval over the dirty state of my chair, I absolutely agree with her that having a sharp, clean wheelchair is very important to a person's overall image. I think I always focused on my person, being meticulous about the way I dress, my hair, and my makeup, but I often overlooked my trusty chariot! Cinderella looked hot when she arrived at the ball, but what would the crowds have said if she'd arrived in a muddy, banged-up El Camino with chipped paint?

For me, the wheelchair is very functional. When I bought this one, I looked for something that had a very specific seating system, i.e. could tilt, recline and pre-cline, that was durable and fast, but equally importantly, I looked for something that wouldn't stand out. I like my chair to look minimized so that I am the focus of the attention, not the chair. I very much appreciate the technology that allows me to get around on my own, and that provides me with so much mobility with the advanced seating systems that are available. I do joke about it sometimes. My last chair was a Bounder, that was the name of it, so I cleverly named him "Bounder" even though one of my friends aptly pointed out that he could do everything except bound. I similarly named my current chair "Quickie." She, on the other hand, stays true to her name, hence my begrudged nickname. That being said, I honestly think about my chair in only two circumstances: when something is broken, or when my mom is chastising me for not cleaning it.

Taking Mom to heart, though, I do think that we wheelchair users should be more diligent about how we present our chairs. I ran across an article about wheelchair accessories that are used to "glam-up" a chair on special occasions. You can get arm rest covers in different materials and colors, and various rims and sparkling hub caps. I know, I know. This sounds tackier than ties with light bulbs, but when I saw the pictures, they looked great. It's kind of like wearing different shoes or handbags to match your outfit.

So my new goal is to pay more attention to my chair. It will still remain understated--I don't think I'm ready for velour foot pedals or leopard skin arm rests--but for an object that so literally transforms my life every minute of my waking day, I am willing to be a little more considerate.