I have Friedreich's Ataxia, a neuromuscular disease which affects balance, strength, coordination, endurance, and a host of other bodily functions.
Many, many years ago (20 or more) my symptoms weren't so bad as to require a walker or wheelchair. My brother, who is 5 years younger than I, also has Friedreich's Ataxia and even with a lot of mobility problems, was still just using a cane or a walker. On a trip to a theme park we concluded that a wheelchair would be helpful, so we rented one at the park. He had never used one and I had never pushed one. But, I pushed him around that day. All went well, until we came to a place requiring us to go down some stairs. These stairs had a run of 6 or 8 feet and a rise of 6 inches or so for each stair.
As we got to the top of the first step I stopped and asked my brother the best way to negotiate this obstacle. He paused and said, "I don't know. Just go for it." So I blithely pushed on. The front wheels went over the top and now the weight of my brother and the chair became a physics lesson.
NOTE: A body in motion tends to remain in motion unless acted upon by external forces.
I was much lighter than the chair-brother combination, at that time, but had a firm grip on the handles of said chair-brother unit. He, as moving bodies are noted to do above, continued over the top step with me firmly in tow. I was relieved when the rear wheels finally made contact with the run of the second step. However, by this time the combination unit of chair-brother-me was moving at a good clip. The run of the 2nd step ran out too quickly and we proceeded over the edge as we had at the top of the first step.
There was no stopping us now as we had reached, what I believed to be, escape velocity. We barely touched the run of steps 3, 4 and 5.
Step 6 was the landing, and as we approached the event horizon, the thought crossed my mind that we had successfully negotiated the stairs! No cheers yet, please, as we were literally flying as we went over the edge.
Be that as it may, we had not quite achieved escape velocity, so we remained sub-orbital. Unfortunately, the aerodynamics of the chair-brother-me unit was a question that was quickly answered. We flew like the proverbial "ton-o-bricks."
We also rediscovered a scientific principle I had long since forgotten from my high school physics class.
To wit: Two objects cannot occupy the same point in the space-time continuum.
The ground was the bigger object (I think because it was attached to the planet's surface) and our make-shift air vehicle's undercarriage (landing gear - wheels and feet) was operating beyond design limits.
We crumpled to the ground. Fortunately, our pre-launch navigation had been faulty and we "splashed down," as it were, not on the concrete, but on the grass surrounding the landing site.
Another fortunate thing, neither of us were injured. The chair was not even damaged, because in a stroke of genius, my brother had became our landing cushion. He was on the bottom, followed by the chair (now collapsed for easy transport) and I was on top, still hanging onto the handles. We laughed a lot. People stop and stared. But no one ran over to help.
Finally, some other family members paused their rolling-around-on-the-ground-laughing long enough to assist us in getting upright, my brother back in the chair, and me back at the handles.
I told my brother, "I think I've got it now -- we go backwards down stairs."
My brother turned to me and said, "That was a fun ride but let's not do it again right now. Anyone for the "Log Flume?"
Next Chapter - The Log Flume, or How Many Times Can You Take a Ride?