Disney and the Disabled (Part 2)

I did a recent post about how Cast Members at Disney are treated badly from time to time by disabled guests and/or their parties. Needless to say, it was quite popular with all of my friends and co-workers. More situations from them flew in to the point where I knew I was going to have to do a follow up post. This is it.
Most of these are situations we have encountered or witnessed.

People trying to beat the system

Frontierland Greeter seems to be the place where this situation is seen a lot by me mainly because it's located by one of the Magic Kingdom's most popular attractions: Splash Mountain. Now the line for this can really get l-o-n-g. Sometimes the wait is well over an hour or two. That's when the schemers go to work.

Remember in the last post I described how all the queues are ECV and wheelchair accessible now, unlike the past where there were actually separate lines for the disabled? Guess who hasn't been to the parks since that changed? Come on down the Cheater family pushing a kid with a broken arm in a wheelchair (whuh?).

They come up to me and ask where they should go with the wheelchair. I point out where the line starts and that they have to hop in with everybody else. I can tell by their stunned silence that they do not like that answer in any kind of way. The usual reply is: "but we have a wheelchair!". Yes I see that, and it's a nice shiny one too...but the line starts right over there...

Now I watch them angrily march away and head right to a Splash Mountain greeter and I can tell the exact same conversation is taking place. Sometimes they get in line. Most of the time they storm away, usually with a few choice cuss words (and probably heading to City Hall to complain). And other times they look for another loophole to exploit. Hello Fastpass!

Fastpass is designed to let guests come back at a certain time window usually hours later instead of waiting in long lines. Get your pass, come back between say 6pm -7pm and there is a shorter separate line for you. The Cheater family thinks they can go right into this line without having to get a pass like everyone else. When  they are turned away (again), they are livid. They yell threats, want to see managers, punch Cast Members and sometimes other guests (I don't think the average person knows how many times we have been punched, shoved, swung at, or hit intentionally by strollers and ECV's...this happens ALL the time!).

I see you have an assistance card. I don't think it means what you think it means.

Some of the most abusive and aggravating guests to deal with are those that do not have a wheelchair, but have a Guest Assistance Card. GAC's as we call them, are designed to help guests with certain issues. Autistic kids sometimes don't handle crowds well, or someone might have a hard time climbing stairs, or needs to be in the front row. We do our best to help everyone with their situations.

But then, there are the idiots who think we have given them Willy Wonka's Golden Ticket to do any damn thing they please. They don't wait to be assisted by a Cast Member. They walk right into exits, let themselves in through gates, drop ropes like it's not for them, or even try to use it as a Fastpass. When you try to get their attention or stop them from entering an area, they ignore you and just hold it out in front of them like it's some search warrant by the FBI.

And you know what? Most of the time what they are trying to do isn't even what is stamped on the card! I don't have to wait in line. I'm going in through the exit and getting a seat. Sir, this card says you need a shaded area and this whole place is an indoor attraction. I think we have provided what you asked for. Or my favorite is "alternate entrance" for those that cannot do stairs. Guess what they consider their entrance? Yep, Fastpass. Bzzzzzzt! Wrong answer!

I want instant gratification, and I want it yesterday!

This next situation encompasses pretty much everything covered so far: GAC's, ECV's, wheelchairs, and strollers. Sometimes people think they are the ONLY person in the park that needs special assistance. By that, I mean this situation that happens on the trains often.

I explained in the previous post that the "box" can only accommodate two wheelchairs at a time. So here I am helping load chairs at Main Street. I have a chair waiting to board, but when the train comes in, ruh roh Raggy!, the box is already full and no one is exiting at this station. I explain that they will have to wait for the next train. What!?! I demand to get on this train. Make those people get out so I can ride! Excuse me, what? No, things do not work that way. Just because you are in line, doesn't mean there weren't people here before you. That's right, sometimes even the wheelchair lines are long and you will have to wait. I am in a wheelchair! I shouldn't have to wait for anything! And 90% of the time when the next train comes into the station, the box is full on that one too <snicker>. It's at this point, they usually give you an ultimatum. We are getting on the next train regardless! We are not waiting any longer! Oh please, oh please, oh please let the next box be full...

And they cuss at me because there are other wheelchairs in the park that got there before they did...

Timing is Everything (Part 2)
 

Did you know the Walt Disney World Railroad is actually a timed attraction? We do not sit there and wait until we are full before leaving. We try to adhere to a very tight schedule all day long. Those whistles you hear as we are sitting in the station are actually timing whistles we use to let the conductors know how much boarding time we have left.

 

When we pull into a station, we actually start a stopwatch. Can you guess how long we sit there during the unload/boarding process? 5 minutes? 10 minutes? Would you believe two minutes and thirty seconds? Yep, that's right, 150 seconds. This is why you see an engineer jump off the train immediately to start loading any waiting wheelchairs. The important word in that last sentence is waiting. If you are not there waiting for us when we pull in the station, you might as well forget about riding that particular train. We do not have the time. You can yell at us to wait as you come up the ramp all you want, but it will not do you any good. We are leaving without you. You can imagine how some wheelchair guests react when they finally make it to the gate (with their 15 family members and three unfolded strollers) and we pull away. The loaders in the stations get an earful at this point. Basically it's What the Hell? That train left and never tried to board my family! We told them to wait! I want a manager!

 

Usually, these are the same people that cant get on the next train because the box is full (karma?). So now they bitch and moan that they have to wait a whole seven minutes for the next train. Seven. The lines for some attraction are over two hours, but it's that seven minutes that really ruins their day...

 

 

My Guilty Pleasure

 

 

As an engineer, when I'm firing the train it is my job to load wheelchairs when we come into a station. I won't say its our favorite thing to do, but we do it gladly to help guests out. Once it hits a certain point of the day (noon-ish), we are constantly having to get off the train and load chairs to the point where it gets aggravating.

The special kids are a joy and we love talking to them and joking with them since so many are enamored with trains and engineers and conductors. And then there are the people that you KNOW do not need or belong in a wheelchair. We aren't supposed to ask or judge, but we just KNOW. They just used it to bypass the line. Many times as we approach them, we hear the kids arguing over whose turn it is to sit in the chair. Yeah, exactly. Sometimes, no one is in the chair at all and it's full of bags. Excuse me sir, do your souvenirs require special assistance?

Anyway, these are the people I love to put in the box with a kid from Give Kids the World or Make a Wish Foundation. I want the adults to feel so small. I have seen the look in their eyes, right before they stare at the ground for the entire trip. They won't look at the kids or talk to their parents. Usually they want off at the next stop. I have seen some come back to ride the train later in the day and be standing with their chair already folded. They want no part of that box. Mission accomplished.

So there it is. I am quite sure there will be other companion pieces to these first two that I have written.

To all the people who shake our hands, or pat us on the back, or moms that hug us after we pose for a pic with their kids, or just say Thank You for doing a good job at a difficult task, please come see us again. The rest of you? Learn something from those people.

 

The Night I Burned My Hand

Some of you know the whole story, some of you parts of it, and still others only know that it happened. Let me relay the events of that night. I had just come up from my last break of the evening, and hopped on my train, The Walt, for its last load of the evening. Here is the perp:

 

So as a part of closing procedures, you have to shut down with a certain amount of water in the boiler for the next morning's crew. When I got on the train, the breaker informed me that he had already started the injectors and all I had to do was check the level at the next station. As we stopped in Frontierland Station, the water level was good so all I had to do was close two valves. Now they are located to the front of me and I have to lean forward to be able to reach them. Did I mention the bucket under my seat?

 

 

This bucket is what we keep our gloves and lighters and clean towels in. You can see a towel in the pic above. Well as I stood up, my foot became entangled with this bucket a bit, and, in the process of reaching forward, I basically fell flat on my face. In an effort to stop my fall, my reaction was to grab what was readily available. In this case it was the injector pipe. The hot injector pipe. The one full of steam and with no safety protection over it. I held on for maybe half a second, but that was enough. I was burned and it was bad and I knew it.

 

At this point I started yelling for my partner to get out the burn gel ASAP. So she gets out the First Aid kit and starts ripping open packages and squeezing it into my hand. Yeah, that wasn't helping any (not to mention the fact that it was only antibiotic ointment because no one had re-filled the kit). I kicked the bucket at her and told her I need water from the tender, which she filled up from underneath. My hand goes in immediately and it starts cooling down but I can already feel the skin tightening. I'm not going make it. Time to call an Alpha (Disney-talk for an ambulance).

 

Now all I can do in the meantime is swirl my hand in this bucket, while uttering every bad word you can think of. Managers are starting to show up from everywhere because of the call over the radio. Someone comes running up with a wheelchair. I take one look at it and say "get rid of that thing!" The paramedics finally arrive, inspect it real quick and put this ice pack thing in my hand. I swear it sizzled, but it felt so damn good. So I head out with them for my special ride to the hospital. They ask me a bunch of questions, but one odd one was in the group: "when was your last Tetanus shot?" I had no idea.

 

So we finally get to the ER and the receptionist is taking all my information. We explain that it's a burn and here's the conversation that followed:

 

Nurse: Oh you're the second burn we've had tonight.

Me (in obvious pain): I think mine is worse.

Nurse: Yeah the other was a girl was out a Fort Wilderness around the campfire. One of the kids flung his burning marshmallow and it flew and stuck to her upper lip.

Me: .....

Me: She wins.

 

She then asked me a bunch of questions, including the Tetanus shot thing again. They finally moved me to a room and brought in this pan of ice water (Oh My God! Glory to Jesus, Yes!). I soaked my hand and someone gave me two pills for pain. Then another pill for something else and then asked me about Tetanus again. At this point I stopped and asked what the Hell does Tetanus have to do with anything!?! Apparently it's a skin thing that happens with cuts and...burns. Guest who gets a booster shot? Guess who doesn't do needles very well? This guy. I was almost like:

 

 

So now the doctor come in and checks me out. Puts the burn cream on and bandages me up. Gives me a pain prescription but says I should be fine and sends me on my way. At this point my phone is on 4% battery life. Then I realize I don't have anyone I could call anyway. Talk about adding insult to injury. I ask how I'm supposed to get back and the receptionist is stunned like "usually a manager comes out and drives you back". Well welcome to Main Street, Mrs. nurse lady. It costs me a $25 cab ride from Celebration Hospital back to the roundhouse. I walk from there back to my truck to drive home. Do you know how hard it is to get keys out of your left pocket with your right hand? It's not easy. And yes, my truck is a stick. It wasn't a short drive either.

 

I only missed three days and never needed the pain medicine. It has healed just fine. In, case you were wondering what it looked like, here you go. This was after two days of healing.

 

P.S. And do not forget to recommend this blog continues.