Natasha Lipman could walk around the office. Getting through the rest of the week was another matter.
When she started a new job in 2017, even a few hours of walking around the building left her with pain and fatigue that took nearly a week to recover from. In her account for Wellcome Collection, she described what changed when her family helped her buy a power chair: she had more energy for her work, and her symptoms eased.
She could walk. She also needed a wheelchair.
That’s what an ambulatory wheelchair user is: someone who can walk, at least some of the time or over some distances, and also uses a wheelchair. Walking might hurt, wear them out or be unsafe. Standing up or taking a few steps doesn’t mean they no longer need their chair.
Why walking doesn’t tell you the whole story
If you’ve always thought of walking and using a wheelchair as either/or, seeing someone do both can be surprising. The missing piece is often what happens before or after the few seconds you’ve seen.
Walking across the kitchen might be manageable. Walking around a supermarket, waiting at the checkout and getting home with the groceries might be too much. Reaching work and having enough energy to work are different problems.
For some people, pain or unstable joints make walking difficult. Others have muscle weakness or trouble with balance. Someone may be able to walk a short distance but need a chair to avoid using up the energy they need for the rest of the day.
It isn’t always a matter of good days and bad days, either. Some people’s mobility changes from day to day; others have fairly consistent limits. As Sociability explains, the surroundings matter too. The same person who walks at home may use a chair for a longer outing.
Anthea Skinner described just how much planning that can involve. In a 2014 essay for ABC Ramp Up, she wrote about organizing errands around a large university campus so she wouldn’t have to retrace her steps. Even collecting library books had to happen in the right order, to keep the carrying distance down.
Using a scooter gave her more freedom to change her plans. Skinner used different aids for different needs: a cane, a scooter and, sometimes, a manual wheelchair pushed by someone else.
Sometimes the cost of an activity arrives later. People with myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome, or ME/CFS, can experience a worsening of symptoms after activity called post-exertional malaise. The CDC explains that symptoms typically worsen 12–48 hours afterward and can last days or weeks. Even minor exertion can trigger it.
That’s one example, not something every wheelchair user experiences. But it helps explain why “they seemed fine when I saw them” tells you very little.
When someone stands up from their wheelchair
Usually, you don’t need to do anything. Keep chatting. Carry on shopping. There’s no need to congratulate them or ask whether they really need the chair.
Skinner wrote that she repeatedly heard miracle jokes when she stood up. Paraquad, a disability organization in St. Louis, describes a harsher response too: accusations of faking and harassment.
The idea that you must be completely unable to walk can also make it harder to accept help yourself. Lipman wrote that she hadn’t felt disabled enough to deserve a wheelchair. She kept pushing herself, her pain and fatigue increased, and her life became smaller as she withdrew from the outside world.
A stranger doesn’t get to decide how much walking should count as enough. Nor does someone owe you their diagnosis because you saw them reach for something on a shelf.
They may be happy to talk. They may just want to finish buying toothpaste.
Hannah Turner writes about a similar pressure to explain what others can’t see in her URevolution essay about living with an invisible illness.
What if someone questions my wheelchair?
If you want to answer, you could keep it short: “I can walk, and I also need my wheelchair.” Or set a boundary: “I’m not discussing my medical history.”
Those are suggestions, not lines you have to deliver. You don’t owe anyone a demonstration of how far you can walk. If the conversation feels hostile, you can end it and seek support instead of trying to win an argument.
Should I offer to help?
Ask first. Then listen to the answer, including “no, thanks.”
United Spinal Association advises getting permission before touching or moving a wheelchair. Speak to the person using it, including when somebody else is pushing. Being helpful starts with finding out what help they want.
Airports, toilets and other everyday questions
Why use a wheelchair at the airport, then walk onto the plane?
Because the journey through the terminal can be much longer than the walk from the aircraft door to a seat. Being able to manage one doesn’t mean you can manage the other.
My mum is 86 and uses a walker. When she flies, she uses the airport’s wheelchair assistance service. She can walk, but making her way through a terminal would be slow and painful, and could delay boarding. A wheelchair gets her where she needs to go with less pain and helps boarding run more smoothly for the airline and the other passengers. That works well for everyone. But what matters most to me is that Mum can make the journey without putting herself through pain she could have avoided.
The U.S. Department of Transportation specifically advises passengers who can’t walk long distances to request an airport wheelchair when booking.
If you’re traveling with someone who uses a chair, ask what they need. Be careful with “it’s only a short walk.” Short for whom? Check the actual distance and whether there will be somewhere to sit while waiting.
Can someone who walks still need an accessible toilet?
Yes. They may need room for their chair, support rails or space for someone to help. Walking a few steps doesn’t tell you whether they can safely get onto and off a toilet.
The same goes for other barriers that look small from the outside. In a February 2026 Summer Foundation account, Veronica described using a wheelchair at home to conserve energy while living with fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue syndrome. She could walk short distances, but raised sliding-door tracks stopped her taking her chair into the backyard. Crossing on foot meant a risk of falling and holding the frame for support.
“I love gardening, but I can’t get out there,” she said.
Being able to take steps hadn’t given her a usable route into her own garden. That’s why “just one step” is such unhelpful access information. Say what’s actually there and let the person judge whether it works for them.
How do I explain this to a child?
Try: “Some people can walk a little and use a wheelchair to go farther. Some people can’t walk. The chair helps them get where they want to go.”
You can answer without asking a stranger to give a lesson about their body. August Pritchett’s essay about wheelchair questions from kids offers her own perspective on children’s curiosity and personal boundaries.
Does ambulatory mean part-time?
No. Ambulatory tells you that someone has some walking ability. Part-time tells you something about how often they use their chair. The two can overlap, but someone who uses a wheelchair every day can still walk some of the time.
You don’t need either label to introduce somebody. Wheelchair user is fine, and following the person’s own wording is better than deciding what to call them.
Avoid “wheelchair-bound” or “confined to a wheelchair” as default descriptions. United Spinal’s language guidance points out that a chair enables people to get around. For Lipman, it meant having more energy left for work. That’s a strange thing to describe as confinement.
Could a wheelchair help me?
You can ask that question while you can still walk. Start with what’s becoming difficult: getting around work, going out with friends or managing things at home. Explain what happens when you try, including pain or exhaustion that comes later.
A wheelchair service or clinician with mobility expertise can help you work out what equipment and support might suit you. The World Health Organization’s guidelines call for individual assessment, fitting, training and follow-up. The details matter; an article can’t choose a chair for you.
If you’re the friend, relative or stranger watching someone stand up, there’s much less to work out. Believe them when they say what they need. If they ask for the ramp, show them where it is.
The accounts of Natasha Lipman, Anthea Skinner and Veronica were previously published by Wellcome Collection, ABC Ramp Up and the Summer Foundation. URevolution did not interview them for this article.
Sources
- Brooke Rupkey, Paraquad, Dispelling Misconceptions of Ambulatory Wheelchair Use
- Georgina Grogan, Sociability, What is an Ambulatory Wheelchair User, 3 June 2026
- CDC, Strategies to Prevent Worsening of Symptoms, 10 May 2024
- Natasha Lipman, Wellcome Collection, How my wheelchair changed my life, 30 January 2020
- Anthea Skinner, ABC Ramp Up, Confessions of a part time wheelchair user, 26 May 2014
- Summer Foundation, Veronica’s Story, 18 February 2026
- United Spinal Association, Disability Etiquette Guide
- World Health Organization, Wheelchair provision guidelines, 2023
- U.S. Department of Transportation, Wheelchair and Guided Assistance, updated 25 September 2025
