On a recent trip for a medical exam, we found an excellent "handicap door" with electric door. All the halls were nice and level, and there was a good roomy elevator.

Not so nice features:

1. The handicapped parking was all in a back lot, with no marking at the front of the lot to tell you where it was.

2. The closest parking space to the handicap entrance was more than 150 feet out.

3. Once inside, there was a 120 foot hallway with no indication of what was at the other end. At the end of that hallway there was (again) only one choice - a second 120 foot hallway with nothing to indicate where you were or where you were going. (150+120+120 = 390 ft)

4. There was a lobby at the end of the second hallway, with an elevator; but the only "building directory" was in a glass covered well about 10 inches deep, with the glass above the level that a wheel chair occupant could see over to read anything on the directory.

(The lobby at the elevator was the only place in the building outside of the offices themselves, with a place for anyone to sit down to rest.)

5. At the upper floor, on exiting the elevator, there were no markings to indicate which direction the offfice numbers ran, so "one of us" had to walk about 40 feet down to check a couple of door numbers to find which way to go.

6. From elevator to the office we needed was another 120 feet. (390+120 = 510 ft) [It took us almost a half hour to make it from the parking lot to this point.]

7. After filling out paper work, Lin asked for a restroom and was direct to one about 70 feet down the hall - which she found to be not compatible with her handicaps, so she had to return to ask for a different one - which was 240 feet down at the other end of the hall. (510+70+70+240+240 = 1130 ft)

8. The examination took about an hour, after which we returned to the vehicle (1130+120+120+120+150 = 1640 feet)

[Note that since I was not permitted to observe the actual examination, and nearly always have a yo-yo on the belt, I was able to make a slow trip back down to measure paving blocks and floor squares, which I then counted up to fairly accurately assess these distances. These distances are not just guesses.]

Both Lin and I have our individual handicap parking tags, each based on inability to walk for more than 1 or 2 hundred feet (at anything like a normal pace) without resting.

(Tags for parking here are pretty much "on request" if any licensed physician writes a "prescription" for one. They don't qualify one to receive medical or financial aid.)

Unlike many buildings, the wheel chair access was excellent. The designers did, however, make a few assumptions:

a. All handicapped persons are in wheel chairs.

b. All handicapped persons have an attendant to push the wheel chair (or have a powered chair).

c. All handicapped persons have an attendant who can stand up to look down into the gorgeous box frame that hides the single lovely "directory" - or have the peculiar gift of "always knowing where they're supposed to be go(?)"

I did note that the only other entrance, up front, had doors so heavy that I had difficulty getting one half way open (it was also windy). That entrance also presented a staircase down to the "sunken lobby" that would have been extremely difficult for Lin. She probably could have made it down to the elevators, but after the other walking would have had a seriously painful time getting back up them.

It appears that the building designers may have tried to do right; But something like "day late and dollar short" seems an appropriate thought. In our case, merely having a place to sit down and rest at least every hundred feet or so would have made a tremendous difference.

(Even a warning when we called to confirm the appointment would have permitted us to bring Lin's scooter. The exam was in support of Lin's application for disability benefits, so it would seem appropriate that they'd think about it? ... ... or maybe not.)

John