A Disability Fee?

This morning, I needed to have my wheelchair-accessible van sent to the auto shop for repairs. I normally am finished with work around 1pm, so I asked the mechanic to have the repairs done by then and he said it should be completed by the afternoon. 

About two hours before I was ready to leave, the mechanic told me that the repairs wouldn't be complete until 2pm. 

But that isn't the biggest conflict of this story. Since my van was out of commission, I was forced to find another way home. After brainstorming possible scenarios, I decided to take a cab home. 

I pulled up the number for Yellow Cab to arrange to have a wheelchair-accessible taxi pick me up. Once I got through to the operator, it was only a few minutes before I had a ride arranged. 

A few moments later, the taxi driver calls to tell me he's here to pick me up. It didn't take long before I was strapped in and ready to hit the road. 

I made it home a few minutes later and as I was getting ready to pay the fare, the driver drops this bomb on me:

"That'll be $57," he said. 

If I could, I would have fallen out of my chair then and there. I proceeded to ask why a 15 minute trip cost almost $60. 

The driver tells me that the mileage only cost around $30, but I was charged a $25 pick up fee because I was in a wheelchair. 

You read that right, there's an extra fee just because I am a person with a disability. The driver didn't get into the specifics about why that fee was in place, but he did tell my mom and I that he'd give me a "break" next time. He shouldn't be so generous. 

It's things like this that make using a wheelchair so difficult. People wonder why they don't see so many people with disabilities out and about and this is s big reason why. Many of those with disabilities are on fixed incomes, so getting around become nearly impossible when every time you want to go out, it'll cost nearly $100 just for a ride. 

This needs to change. Accessibility is an important part of being able to live as a person with a disability, so what happens when you can't even afford the access?

I understand the need to make a buck, but charging people with disabilities an extra fee just because they use a wheelchair is just plain wrong.

Wheelchair Accessible Chivalry

After reading Shane Burcaw's amazing article on his experience with love and disability, I've decided to share my own thoughts on the subject. 

It's no secret that calling me any kind of expert on relationships couldn't be further from the truth. That being said, dating and girls are never far from my mind. 

Navigating relationships has always been difficult for me, even before I became a quad. Shyness was a big factor, but it was amplified even more once the wheelchair became a part of the equation. Over the years I may have learned how to approach and talk to girls, but being able to translate that into a successful social life was harder to accomplish.

Nowadays, the first thing I think about whenever I see a girl I want to ask out, all I can think about are logistics. 

• How will I get to the date?
• Can she drive me?
• Is she going to be okay feeding me?
• I want to pay for everything, but how do I ask her to take out my wallet?

The list seems to grow longer and longer as I think of all the scenarios and I've officially psyched myself out. Then I think about how I put my best foot forward. I've seen enough romantic comedies to know that manners, sincerity and kindness go a long way. Unfortunately, chivalry in the traditional sense isn't going to cut it for me. 

• How do I hold open the door for her?
• What do I do if she gets cold?
• Would I be able to walk her to her door after the date?

Reading Shane's article answered some of those questions for me. I'm not going to ever be able to be chivalrous in the way I was taught to be, but that doesn't mean I can't be a gentleman in other ways. I also realized that I ultimately just need to be myself and let things fall where they may. 

I applaud Shane and am happy to know that it is possible to find love, disability or not. He's a great role model for anyone with a disability who may be a little wary about jumping into the dating pool. Even if it's in the shallow end for people like me. 

Time to Help #GetGabeADate

If you've spent any amount of time on the Internet, you know all about the crowdsourcing trend. 

Whether it's a parent looking to fundraise for their child's medical expenses or a community looking to help make a kid's dream a reality, the "series of tubes" is filled with requests to rally the Internet for help. 

And now it's my turn to try out the crowdsourcing trend. No, I'm not looking for donations or medical support. What am I asking for?

Help finding a date. 

I figured the internet has rallied around numerous causes, so what's one more, albeit awkward, cause?

It's no secret that my personal life has been, how do I say this, "PG." I seemed to have mastered the skill of asking only girls with boyfriends out on dates. I don't know if it's just cruel luck, or God's twisted sense of humor, but every time I finally have the courage to ask a girl out, she's always already taken. And you think it'd end there, but no. Instead of saying, "No, thank you," she says, "Sure!" Then when she shows up, she brings along her boyfriend. I know I ride on six wheels everyday, but being the third wheel on a pity date isn't anyone's idea of a good time. 

If God's getting a kick from my awkward experiences, my interactions with the opposite sex are as good as gold.  So this is where you come in. I'm turning over my chance at my true First Date over to you, the interwebz. 

This Saturday, August 9, I have two tickets to the Justin Timberlake concert at Jobing.com arena in Glendale, AZ. Now, my normal plan would be to go with a family member. But this time I'm going to take a chance. If you know a single lady out there who'd like to spend an evening with one of the sexiest men on the planet, and Justin Timberlake, send her my way. 

Crowdsourcing for my first date is a little unorthodox, but maybe that's what I need to finally get me out of my shell and in to an actual social life. 

If you have any first date suggestions, you can find me on Facebook, Twitter, or email at gabettrujillo@gmail.com. 

Happy Father's Day

Every kid aspires to be great. From the moment he or she ties that worn, faded blanket around their neck and envisions soaring through the clouds, kids are filled with an unwavering hope and optimism that fuels their dreams of the future. Our childhoods are built on foundations of idols; some fictional, some real. And if you're one of the lucky ones, you're fortunate enough to have your idol, role model, cheerleader and friend stand by your side through all of life's twists and turns.

For me, that person is my dad.

Saying that he's been a huge impact in my life would be a vast understatement. My dad has always supported me through everything. As a little league baseball coach, he taught me about teamwork, determination and the power of hard work. As a baker, he taught me how to enjoy the little things in life; like never leave cookie dough in your bowl uneaten. As an accountant, he taught me about the importance of double checking and triple checking your work. As a husband and father, he taught me that family means everything.

And that was no more evident than when I became a quadriplegic. He could have given up the minute he found out that his son would be confined to a wheelchair, but my dad refused to let the disease ruin our lives. From the moment I got sick, my dad has stayed by my side. For the past 17 years, he's been my arms, my legs, my cheerleader, my coach and my best friend.

I would not be the man I am today without the unwavering support of my dad. He gives me the strength and courage to strive for greatness and to live life the way I want. While he may not be faster than a speeding bullet or be able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, my dad will always be my hero.

Happy Father's Day, Dad. 

A Whole Different Kind of Strength

This past December, my mother was diagnosed with a very bad infection and had to be hospitalized for three weeks. For a variety of reasons, her illness was one of the most surreal and traumatic experiences of my life. 

First off, seeing my mother in such bad shape was very frightening. When she first fell ill and was sent to the ICU, she had to be intubated to help her breathe, just like I was when I was 14 years old. Watching her struggle to breathe as plastic tubes protruded from her mouth brought up so many emotions; fear, uncertainty, sadness. 

No child should have to see their parent in such a traumatic situation. It is a very sobering and scary thing to experience. At first, doctors were uncertain if she would survive, and the idea of losing my mom was a very real possibility. As she fought for her life in her hospital bed, my mom was always surrounded by family and friends. 

Another interesting thing about my mom's illness is that she was treated at the same hospital I was at 16 years earlier. Rolling down the same hallways and elevator was a truly surreal experience. The more I visited my mom as she recovered, the more memories would come flooding back. After spending eight months fighting my own illness in the same hospital, I can say with certainty that Good Samaritan was a big part of my life. 

Overall, the entire experience was quite the ordeal. The one major thing I got from this experience is just how much strength it takes to be at the bedside of your loved ones. I now have a greater appreciation for all of the family and friends who stayed at my bedside during my own fight with Hopkins Syndrome. While I had the courage and will to overcome adversity, it takes a completely different kind of strength to be a support system for those you love. 

After being the one at the bedside and not the one in the hospital bed for the past three weeks, I don't know how my family did it for eight months. Their own strength and perseverance is to be admired, and I will forever be grateful for their support. With my mom finally being released, we seemed to have come full circle once again. Her road to recovery is still a long one, but I will continue to be at her side, helping her overcome her illness, just like she did for me, so many years ago. 

Giving Thanks

As we all get ready to sit down with friends and family to enjoy a great Thanksgiving feast, I wanted to take a moment to thank all those who've helped me along during my incredible journey. 

• Thank you to my parents for being there for my brother and I. Without their love and support, I wouldn't be the person I am today. 
• Thank you to my brother for being an incredible sibling and friend. My hospital stay wouldn't have been as fun if it wasn't for his weekend sleepovers watching episodes of Dragonball Z.
• Thank you to my grandparents for being an incredible support system. If it wasn't for them visiting me at the hospital every day, I would have surely gone insane. 
• Thank you to my Aunt Ana. She's always been there to help me, no questions asked. And I'm forever grateful. 
• Thank you to my Uncle Carlos for being willing to help when I needed him. 
• Thank you to my Aunt Lori for always being there for me, even when the world started spinning during my first tequila shot.
• Thank you to my awesome cousins, Taylor, Kristina and Daniel. It's been a privilege watching them grow up and I'm honored to call them my family. 
• Thank you to my best friend, Adam. His friendship is invaluable and I will never forget his amazing kindness and support. 

This list can go on forever, so I won't bore you too much longer. To all my other friends and family that I didn't name, please know that I am truly thankful for all of your love and support. It is because of my incredible group of friends and family that I was able to persevere and overcome incredible adversity. 

So as you make your way to the dinner table today, please take a moment to remember what you are thankful for. No matter how tough or difficult life can be, everyone can find something to be thankful for. All we have to do is look. 

The Girlfriend Experience

I don't know if it was my best friend's wedding or watching Love Actually again for the 34th time, but I've been thinking a lot about my future lately. More specifically, the idea of finding a girlfriend. 

While I have experienced a lot during my past 30 years, one experience that continues to elude me is being in a relationship. Sure, I've hung out with girls, but I have yet to experience my first true date. I don't seem to have a problem spending time with girls, it just never seemed like girls viewed me as boyfriend material. 

Probably the biggest reason why I have yet to go on a date is because I rarely go out. To say that my life to this point has been a little sheltered, would not be a complete lie. Traditionally, someone looking for a date would probably head to a local bar or club. But for me, I can safely count the number of times I've been to a bar on two fingers. And I know that if I ever want to have any semblance of a social life, I need to get out more. As much as the commercials want to make me believe it, the odds of finding my dream girl on the Internet are slim to none. 

But whenever I think about going out, all I can think about are the logistics:

• Who will I get to drive me there?
• Will there be enough room for me to get around the bar?
• Will it be weird if I don't drink?
• How will I approach a girl?
• How am I going to get home?

While spending eight months in the hospital and sitting around a bunch of nurses did help me become more comfortable around women, the thought of going on a date also absolutely terrifies me. I guess I still have a lot to learn. 

I often think about what being in a relationship would be like. And I've seen my fair share of romantic comedies to know that all it takes is one chance and a little courage to make magic happen. I can't tell you how many times I've rehearsed my first date in my head. While I have everything planned out, you never really know how it is going to work out until you do it. 

So as I watch my best friend marry the love of his life, I realize that I shouldn't give up hope for a relationship of my own. Even though I can't hold open a door or pull out a chair. I can still be myself and show girls that gentlemen come in many forms. As long as I'm willing to take a chance and let life happen, who knows, maybe I'll finally get the chance to go on my very first date. 

Losing Touch

I can't believe it's been more than 16 years since I took my "last" steps. At this point, it seems like my life has been split in two: one half as an able-bodied person, and the other as a quadriplegic. There's not a moment that goes by that I don't think about what it was like as a kid. 

Whether it was playing carpet hockey with my brother in the middle of our living room or hanging out with my friends at school, my thoughts are always filled with my childhood experiences. But as the years have past, I've found myself losing more than just the ability to move my arms and legs. Even though I can reminisce about my past, I seem to be forgetting what it feels like to have the ability to move. 

It's an odd feeling to forget what it feels like to walk down the street, play around with friends or even the simple act of holding someone's hand. I know that I experienced all these sensations, but since they've left my life long ago, so have their memories. Not knowing or remembering these feelings is certainly a scary notion. My arms and legs may be broken, but I never expected my memories to go as well. 

While my memories have not fully faded, I will continue to cherish those that are still with me. We have all heard that we never really miss anything until it's gone, and now I have experienced that sentiment first hand. Now that I can no longer use my arms and legs like I used to, I realize just how much I miss it. I often find myself thinking about my past and look back on it with appreciation. While I've lost the ability to walk, I was able to be able-bodied for 14 wonderful years, and I will always be grateful for that. 

Even though I may be losing touch with my past, I will never lose touch of who I was and who I am. I may be losing the feeling of what it was like to walk, but I will never lose hope. No one can say for certain if I will ever walk again, but as long as I can hold on to my memories of the past, I will never give up. It may be difficult to remember what it was like as a kid, but I will fight to hang on to my memories and my optimism as long as I can. 

30 Lessons I've Learned Over My 30 Years

It's been a crazy adventure over the past 30 years of my life. I've been through numerous trials and tribulations, but I can certainly say that my life has been mostly half full. From growing up in the bustling Arizona suburb of Ahwatukee to fighting for my life during my eight-month hospital stay, there have been plenty of experiences that taught me how to live life to the fullest. Here are 30 lessons I've learned during my brief 30 years on this earth. 

• Don't sweat the small stuff. It's a little cliche, but definitely true. 
• Patience is most certainly a virtue. Know when to just stop, take a breath, and relax. 
• It's okay to ask for help sometimes, we all could use a hand with something. 
• Casa Reynoso makes the best Mexican food in Arizona. 
• Just because a personal aide is attractive, it doesn't make them reliable. You know who you are. 
• It doesn't do you any good to look for someone to blame. 
• Feeling sorry for yourself isn't worth it. 
• You can always make the best out of any bad situation. 
• Being in a hospital for eight months qualifies you for a health credit in high school. 
• Athletes come in many forms. They even drive electric wheelchairs. 
• Strength isn't measured by a person's physical capacity. 
• Portable ramps will always be your best friend. 
• Don't freak out when you get locked in a van. There's a locksmith around somewhere. 
• You'd be surprised at the logistics involved in giving a lap dance to a guy in a wheelchair. 
• If you need someone to look up to, sit down. 
• New Girl is the best show on T.V. and scary relatable to my life.
• Ironside was cancelled after three episodes because they cast Blair Underwood instead of me.
• The airline industry is the arch-nemesis of people with disabilities.
• If you have to spend eight months in the hospital, make sure there is a Whataburger across the street.
• It’s okay to have bad days. But that doesn’t mean you have to have a bad attitude.
• Experience everything you can.
• Don’t judge a book by its cover, or a person by their disability.
• A sense of humor can get you through any situation.
• Make time to thank those who’ve helped you along your journey.
• Learning to breathe is harder the second time around.
• Enjoy your high school and college years, they’ll be some of the best years of your life.
• Always make time for your friends.
• Growing up is mandatory, growing old is optional.
• If you can’t do what you love, love what you do.
• Never give up, never stop fighting.

The past 30 years have been quite a ride and I can’t wait to see what the next 30 hold. I don’t know what my future holds, but I do know that I will continue to live the best I can and enjoy life as much as possible.

Once an Athlete, Always an Athlete

In 2005, I was introduced to the sport of power soccer. While I was a reporter for the State Press at Arizona State University, I came across this amazing adaptive sport for people with disabilities.

I was doing a piece on adaptive sport options for people living in the Phoenix area and power soccer came up during my research.

As a quadriplegic and electric wheelchair user, I was intrigued to see what the sport was all about. After doing some additional research, I found myself at a local power soccer practice to see the sport in person.

Once I began watching these athletes dribble the ball around the court and seeing the smiles on their faces, I knew that it wasn’t going to be long before I became an athlete myself.

From the moment I strapped a plastic guard to the leg rests of my wheelchair, I felt something that I thought was gone forever. As a kid, I was an avid sports fan and spent many a weekend playing on local soccer and little league teams.

Playing sports was a big part of my childhood and when I lost the ability to move my arms and legs, I thought the days of me being a competitive athlete were over. But once I experienced power soccer, I realized that I could still be a part of the sports world as a competitive athlete.

Over the past eight years, I’ve seen the sport of power soccer go through numerous evolutions. During my early experiences with the sport, the emphasis was very much on dribbling and ball handling. More recently, rule changes have been implemented to open up the game and encourage more passing and strategy.

With all of these new changes, the game has become more exciting not just for the athletes, but for the spectators as well. Along with the rule changes, we have seen the wheelchairs used by the athletes go through their own evolution.

During my first few years of playing power soccer, I used a mid-wheel drive chair with a plastic guard fastened to the leg rests. As the game evolved, I transitioned to using a rear-wheel drive chair with a metal guard fastened to the chair’s frame. Today, I am currently using a custom-built wheelchair specifically designed for power soccer.

With the advancement of technology in power soccer, electric wheelchairs now have more speed and maneuverability than ever before. But with the advancements of these wheelchairs, a big debate is starting to emerge.

Is a superior wheelchair all you need to be a superior power soccer athlete?

As a power soccer athlete, I have to say that it takes more than just a finely tuned, custom-built wheelchair to make you a top-tier athlete.

Not only do you need to have advanced cognitive ability, but the higher-performing athletes also possess great communication skills and superior eye-hand coordination and reflexes. Simply putting any person in the most advanced soccer chair doesn’t mean that the person automatically becomes a great power soccer athlete.

Becoming a great player in power soccer means spending countless hours of practice, honing and refining your skills. It means developing good chemistry with your teammates and a court awareness to ensure you’re performing at the highest level.

The wheelchair an athlete uses should only be viewed as a piece of equipment. If an athlete plays in the best wheelchair available, all it is doing is amplifying the skill level the athlete already possesses.

Sure, an athlete in a chair with a metal guard will be more powerful than an athlete in a chair with a plastic guard, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be more effective. If an athlete can’t effectively control the chair or possess the knowledge and awareness needed to play, they’ll be more of a liability than an asset.

In every sport, not just in power soccer, athletes use the best equipment possible to gain a competitive edge. But the equipment will never overshadow the talent of the athletes. Michael Jordan wasn’t the best basketball player just because he wore Nike shoes. Jerry Rice wasn’t the greatest receiver in the NFL just because he wore the best gloves. Hank Aaron wasn’t one of MLB’s greatest players because he used the best bat and ball. All of these players were great because of their immense talent and commitment to the sports they loved to play.

And power soccer athletes shouldn’t be judged any differently.

Electric wheelchairs are, and forever will be, an important part of power soccer. Technology will continue to improve and the sport will continue to evolve. But no matter how strong, fast and reactive the wheelchairs get, the heart of this sport will always lie in those who play it.

I will always be grateful to power soccer. The sport has rejuvenated my competitive spirit and allowed me to be an athlete in a whole new way.

For now, I will continue to practice and hone my skills. Hopefully by the time my playing days are over, I’ll be remembered among the power soccer greats.