A 2006 survey of people with disabilities showed that 75% of them have at least a moderate degree of difficulty using the examination tables in a doctor’s office. The most obvious problem is that most of the tables are too high. But also there is a lack of railing and hand-holds to allow safe transfer.

The survey also indicated difficulties with imaging equipment like x-ray machines and MRIs. Something as simple as getting weighed can also pose significant challenges for those with disabilities.

The survey was published by the Western University of Health Sciences Center for Disability Issues and the Health Professions in Pomona, California, and Houston’s Independent Living Research Utilization.

As someone who spends a lot of time around nurses, I just wanted to take a minute and thank my lucky stars for the kind women (and men) who have made nursing their career of choice. It is so comforting to have a strong and able nurse who knows just how to help me out of my wheelchair and up onto an exam table. I have benefited from the knowledgeable nurses who have taught me how to care for my feet and avoid complications.

And I know there are exceptions, but almost every nurse I’ve ever been in the care of has been so kind and thoughtful. One time, the night before I was to have surgery, I was pretty nervous. My nurse, whose name was Carol, spent over an hour just helping me talk through my fears. She didn’t have to. But she did. So I take my hat off to nurses everywhere. Thank you for all you do.

So tell me if any of you have had similar experiences. I go into my physical therapy appointment and meet my therapist. He’s a handsome, middle-aged man with a friendly smile. He bends down, places his hand on my wheelchair, and explains what we’ll be doing to help my shoulder recover from surgery. Everything sounds so great and he has such a kind way of explaining things that I feel reassured and I’m actually excited.

Then the handsome, friendly man straps me into a machine that makes medieval torture devices look like a child’s playground. The next thing I know, my shoulder is being stretched and pulled in positions I’m sure aren’t natural. As I’m sweating profusely, I look up and the handsome physical therapist is smiling at me—like he’s enjoying this. So has anyone else had this experience? (In all seriousness, he’s a nice guy but he’s killing me!)