On Feb. 3, 2007, my life as a normal, healthy college student went downhill faster than Britney Spears’s career.
I hopped into a pickup basketball game, went up for a layup, came down on someone’s foot and destroyed everything in my ankle. Torn ligaments, strained tendons and broken bones.
Eight months later, I have two improperly-fused foot bones and a whole new perspecitve on Fairfield University.
Since that fateful day, you have probably noticed a guy limping and crutching past you in your daily travels. I am honored to say that I am the kid with the ankle that seems to never get better. If you see me stumbling around at night, consider it might be that my ankle, not my brain, is responsible for my inability to walk in a straight line.
Even though my situation is less-than-ideal, there have been some nice perks to walking like an 85-year-old man going on his second hip.
I have single handedly brought the big black boot back into style and have shown the world that 50 Cent isn’t the only gangsta who walks with a limp.
I have also shown the world that just beacuse you dont have two walking ankles doesn’t mean you can’t ride a bicycle.
My ankle has granted me access to the mysterious elevator in Barone, gotten me into the small, motorized carts at Stop ‘ Shop and even allowed me to go to the front of the line at every Six Flags Great Adventure ride.
However, being unable to walk like a normal person for the past nine months has been a far from pleasurable experience.
My injury has given me much insight into a world previously unforseen by an average college student who has the ability to walk on his own two feet. Students cannot even begin to comprehend how downright painful and time consuming it can be for a handicapped individual to get around campus.
When I first injured my ankle, I relied on Public Safety to “escort” me around campus in the biting winds that harass the quad for the majority of the academic year.
That lasted all of about two days after I came to the realization that I could have crutched my way back to the dorm and had a cup of coffee by the time that white and red defender of the law came rolling around the back door of Donarumma.
Next time I had to move about campus, I decided to try the surprise behind door two.
On a bitter, cold mid-winter day, I felt like I was on the verge of death. Under the strong, “If you don’t stop coughing you’re not sleeping in here tonight,” recommendation from my roommate, I went to the Health Center.
This time, I fought the urge to 2241 myself to my destination, relying on the trusty Stag bus for the rare trip to the place reserved primarily for those who just don’t know when to call it a night.
Normally, everyone’s favorite big red bus shows up more than freshmen at the townhouses, but today it was like trying to find your FUSA senator when you have a problem.
After 20 minutes, the bus rolled by but the marquee was flashing “Not In Service.” I exchanged a confused glance with the rookie bus driver and felt my eyes begin to tear as I saw that rolling red heap peel off around the circle at Barone.
Instead of a convenient ride to the far side of campus, I was stuck with a face full of diesel fumes and a new-found hate for the Stag bus.
Despite my unfortunate experience, the Stag bus is a fairly reliable way to navigate the rolling hills of the Fairfield campus.
Aimee Tiu, director of Academic and Disability Support, said, “I believe that the campus shuttles do their best to stay on schedule, but these times cannot be guaranteed. Our campus shuttles are equipped to accommodate wheelchair and other mobility devices.”
When my injury first occurred, the Health Center sent me back with rickety, wooden crutches and three one-time-use ice packs. The crutches worked for me about as well as the garden apartment plan worked for Fairfield, and I got colder treatment from the night nurse on duty than the ice packs.
Tiu, meanwhile, deferred me to the Health Center.
“The Office of Academic and Disability Support Services provides accommodations for temporary illnesses or disabilities on a case by case basis.
“Request for accommodation due to an ankle, leg or foot injury is medically related and determination of such a request for accommodation will involve the Health Center,” she said.
The University’s policy on disabilities is just like most other operations on campus. It looks extremely good on paper but involves so much paper work and phone calls to officials who are either “in a meeting” or “out of the office” that it is virtually useless.
Until Fairfield begins to place practicality before complicated paper trail policies, students with or without physical limitations will continue to be frustrated with the lack of compatibility and responses to any problems they may encounter.
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