College Life
Students bustling with life seemingly appeared from nowhere and the wide corridor was soon crowded to choking point. The serenity punctured by a cacophony of sound created by innumerable small conversations. It was everything that I had dreamed of – a world full of beautiful classy women and men that I could have an intellectual conversation with.
Then just as fleetingly the crowd disappeared and I was back looking at the dull wall opposite. This is University College Dublin, UCD; the Arts/Commerce Building in particular. The year is 1997. The campus was mostly constructed during the Sixties with the modern architecture of the time. However, an unloving eye would point out that it looks more like an airport than a university with its rectangular concrete buildings. It is the largest university in Ireland with a population of at least twenty thousand students, located in the leafy suburbs of Dublin 4. The Arts/Commerce Building known more commonly simply as the Arts Building is one building among many. It has seven levels but most of the activity occurs on the ground floor which houses all the lecture theaters; the largest of which can hold over two hundred students at a sitting. As its name suggests this building is where the lectures are held for those studying Arts or Commerce courses.
My name is Alan, I’m the young man driving up and down the corridor in his wheelchair. Today is a day of elation because against all the odds, I managed to make it to college and am now in the third day of my first week in college.. This would be quite an accomplishment for the ordinary guy but for a quadriplegic it is something special. Born eighteen years previously to a sense of sorrow, it took many operations to make my body take a familiar shape but alas they could not give me the ability to stand alone or to raise my arms enough to feed myself. Fortunately, the only obvious clue that my disability was congenital was my claw shaped hands. Harder to notice my twisted hips & impossible to see the metal bar wrapped to my spine to stop my body slowly collapsing onto itself.
This was indeed a good day and I falsely thought that it was as exciting as my life would get. In a few minutes from now, I’m due to meet to meet the Access Officer of the University. Nervous but not over awed I ponder what I’m going to say. I have PAs otherwise known as Personal Assistants organized to look after me but I’m not sure yet how to organize notes of the lectures. The area for wheelchair users is a platform that juts out at the very back of each theater. It gives you a panoramic view with the lecturer and the rows of students below. However, if I was to put a table in front of me so that I could write, it would totally block my view of what was happening. Adding to my difficulty, I am unable to write fast enough as well. The PAs generally are not very educated or patient and it would be a disaster to try and get them to do it.
As I reach the exit door to the building, I estimate it must be getting close to the time of my appointment and I hurriedly turn around and head in the direction of the office of the Access Officer. As I drive onwards I notice that there is one group of students still hanging around. They are situated at what I’ve already found out to be known as “the wall”. It is a raised area just off the main corridor.
Almost instantaneously I can tell that they are gamers. The dark clothes and the obvious excitement over cards strewn on the floor are obvious signs. It is mostly fellas but there are two girls; one of which is quite attractive with long long black hair and a slim build. I make a mental note to meet them later in the day, being an occasional gamer myself.
It only takes me two minutes to reach the door of the Access Office. It is away from the main corridor and quite quiet. A woman’s voice coming from the office is barely audible. Driving horizontally to the door, I use my good hand to knock on it three times. I hear a shout from inside that she will be out in a minute. Of course, this was Ireland & a minute more closely meant shortly rather than any actual measurement of time. Frustrated I drove away from the door and waited.
I knew that it was important to start off this relationship on good terms so I tried to think of important things that I needed to say and make sure boredom didn’t crush my freshness. I had spoken to her previously on the telephone and she had seemed helpful and concerned. Hopefully that was what she really was like and I wasn’t just getting some standard response she gave to people she never actually thought would make it to the college.
After waiting a couple of minutes I hear the door opening behind me and my name being called. As I turn around the wheelchair I am pleasantly surprised. The Access Officer who promptly tells me her name is Lucy is wearing a short dress revealing attractive long legs and has short curly blonde hair. It is also immediately apparent due to her cross eyes that she has a visual impairment.
The office is small and cramped and she barely manages to close the door behind me and get back round to her desk. After apologizing for the small office which she openly admitted wasn’t very wheelchair friendly, she smiled broadly and with excitedly asked me how my first week in college was going and how I was getting on with my PAs (Personal Assistants).
It crossed my mind to say that it would be even better if I had a PA as attractive as her but decided that it would be better to keep things on a professional basis and my thoughts turned back to business.
I informed her that I was getting on quite well apart from a few teething problem. My PAs whose names were Patrick and Leanne were lovely people and I was getting on well with them fine so far. There was a thrill to being in college where so much seemed to be constantly happening and that my main area of concern was in relation to getting notes from the lectures.
Now her demeanor and tone became more serious as she informed me that I would need to speak to the lecturers myself to see if I could get notes from them. She continued that there were simply too many students with disabilities for her office to organize notes for everyone and that anyway, now that I was in college rather than school I needed to learn to look after my own affairs.
This was obviously a standard response stated over and over every year to new incoming students. The fact that I had a severe disability with only limited use of my arms didn’t seem to make me any more deserving of attention than the standard dyslexic that the office would deal with. Finding her response less than impressive my confidence in the Access Officer was waning.
She then turned back to her smile and cheery tone informing me to contact her if I was having difficulties with the flat and also that it was important to contact the office in the run up to the exams in order to meet my needs.
Even though my confidence in her had waned, I made sure that I kept smiling. She held an important tactical position and it was important to build a good working relationship in case I needed her in the future. These cold calculations came easily to me from growing up with a disability.
On leaving her office I decided that I would make my way back to Patrick who hopefully would be diligently waiting for me back at the apartment I was renting with another student on campus. It was ideally located close to where my lectures were to be held and just as importantly it was also near the Student Bar which was the social nerve center of the university. It was my plan to enjoy the full college experience as well as get a degree which would open options for the rest of my life.
It would only take me two minutes to get back to my apartment. On the short journey I wondered if Patrick, my PA would still be looking out the window waiting for me. It was an unusual thing to request of him but if he didn’t see me I would be stuck outside as I wasn’t able to open the doors to get in. Otherwise I would have had to bring him with me and I preferred to spend some of the time on my own rather than having somebody constantly beside me. It only was also a lot easier to talk to new people when you didn’t have someone standing mute a few feet behind you.
I had only met Patrick the previous day and still wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. It was a great relief to find someone willing to do the work though. But he was quirky and at times seemed unsure of himself. He dressed shabbily and his fringe had been cut dead straight giving him a somewhat simple appearance. Not that any of that bothered me. I had an objective of getting a degree and was prepared to work with just about anyone to help me achieve that aim.
Within two minutes I had reached the exit door of the building. It looked dreary outside and suddenly the threat of rain loomed large. The method for getting in and out through an exterior door is simple and usually quite effective – patience. Another student would eventually come along and open the door for me. Usually you wouldn’t have to wait long. This time it was only seconds.
A petite female student who was entering the building kept it open for me. Only a quick glancing smile was exchanged between us. I thought to myself that I must think of something witty to say in these situations so that I can get chatting to all the cute girls who open doors for me.
It is pleasantly warm outside with only a light breeze. But the dark sky hinted at a rapid change. I immediately sped down the ramp beside the steps that everybody else used and began the short journey back to the flat. As it was now time that lectures were in full swing the paths were quiet and I didn’t meet anybody on the path. It would take some time before I would adjust to the place being so crowded and then everybody just dissipating.
As I saw the apartment block where I presumed that I would be living for the next few years I grew a bit nervous wondering if Patrick would be looking out the window. My flat was on the ground level. The other two floors were inaccessible; there was a stairs but no lift. Even the ground floor of most of the other apartment blocks had at least one step into them. At least I could see a few students in the distance and I could ask them to ring the bell if all else failed. Moments later came the moment of truth.
As I peered in the window much to my relief I could see Patrick sitting on the TV watching television. He spotted me after just a few seconds. I nodded at him to open the door and he leapt up and headed towards the door. There was actually two doors to open; one for the apartment block and the other for the apartment itself.
As Patrick opened the door I could tell from his smile that something had made him particularly happy and I wondered what it was. As I entered the apartment I asked Patrick to make me a cup of tea. The apartment consisted of a combined kitchen/living room, a short hall, bathroom, shower room & two bedrooms.
The larger bedroom was mine and the other belonged to the other flatmate who I still hadn’t met and knew nothing about. The demand for accommodation on campus far exceeded supply and it was given out on a lottery basis. However, people with disabilities were given preference. This was entirely appropriate in my somewhat biased opinion as nearly all if not all the accommodation off campus was wheelchair inaccessible.
Patrick couldn’t contain his excitement for long. As he started to pour the tea he grinned and told me that he had some interesting news. I wondered what it could be and even if it was interesting in only his weird mind. It was however something of note.
He had met my flatmate for the year and it was a woman. I was a bit surprised but almost instantly thought that this could make my first year in college very interesting. Her name was Lucy and she has a visual disability. My calculating mind told me that it was more than mere coincidence that two disabled people were put in the same flat and it was probably the result of a policy I hadn’t known about.
Patrick seemed to be very taken by her and told me with excitement that she was studying music. She had gone to the shop and would be back any moment. Now I wondered if he had glanced out the window to see if he could see her coming rather than see if I was outside.
He lifted the cup of tea to my lips but continued talking and I wondered if I would think as highly of this girl as he did. I imagined that Patrick with his simple ways probably didn’t get much female attention and perhaps could be easily influenced.
Then I heard keys rattling in the door. For the first time I felt a tinge of nervousness feeling that I should try to make a good first impression but was not quite sure how. Then the door opened with a bang and in she came and a loud “hello” in an accent that I couldn’t quite place.
She had long flowing red hair & was slightly overweight. Her visual impairment was immediately apparent due to her being noticeably cross eyed. Overall she was of medium attractiveness. But I supposed to an older man like Patrick she was probably like a model.
Immediately with a large smile she started telling me everything about herself. For instance, she was repeating her second year in college, that she loved music, her favourite programme was “Sex & The City” and that she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do when she left college. Her course was only starting the next day which was late compared to most students and that was why she was only arriving now. The fact that her name was Lucy only came towards the end.
In my more terse reply often interrupted by a still excited Patrick I told her that I was in my first year of a business degree, that I was delighted to be in college and that I would do any medium paid job on leaving.
Overall I was quite happy to have her as a flatmate. The fact that we both had a disability should mean that we could support one another I reckoned but I knew that only time would tell. After all I didn’t actually have any friends with disabilities so there could be a few holes in the theory.
The lively conversation came to an abrupt end when Lucy informed me that she had to go into her room for a few hours to unpack. I informed Patrick that I needed to go to the toilet. This had similarities to a military exercise.
First, I would drive into my bedroom which was quite large even with two beds on each side; there was plenty of room to manoeuvre. Patrick then got the sling and put it around my body before driving the hoist over and hooking the sling onto it. It was a manual hoist and Patrick had to move the lever up and down in order to raise me off the wheelchair. Then by pushing and pulling it, he would reverse the hoist out of the bedroom and then forwards into the bathroom.
Then there was just enough room to pull my pants down and hover me over the toilet for me to do the business. Patrick would then leave until I called him. Sometimes my mind would wonder and I would enjoy the solitude. However wait too long and the sling would gnaw at my leg leaving a cutting pain that was only relieved when it was taken off. My leg would also be numb for a minute on sitting back in the wheelchair.
My mind was now turning to later, after I had attended my final lecture for the day. This evening I planned to meet up with Eric, a friend from my secondary school days and go to the Student Bar where we would meet up with more old classmates from my home town of Mullingar. There were two bars for students on campus; one was the Students Bar which was by far the busiest and run by the Students Union. The other bar is called the Sport Bar because it is part of a sports complex which has a gym and where indoor football can be played.
In truth I was hoping to meet up with new people during my time in college but there was no harm in keeping up with old contacts. The exception was Eric who I was always happy to meet. He had a superb intellect and I could talk at length about science and politics with him. In fact he had been due to go to a different university but I was pleasantly surprised when I discovered that he had changed his mind at the last moment. I was due to meet him at eight o’clock
But now it was time for another lecture and my mind turned its concentration to that. Shortly I would be asking Patrick to open the doors to the apartment once again as I ventu
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