Access Granted: Navigating the Holidays with Resilience and Joy

In a heartfelt online discussion, a group of acquaintances, all with spinal cord injuries—Cathy Cuff-Coffman, Mitch Rudolf, Jamie Clendening, Jessica Harris, and Melinda Janosko—shared laughs, memories, and hard-won wisdom about living with spinal cord injuries and caregiving through the holiday season.

What emerged was not just a conversation about accessibility, but a portrait of perseverance, adaptability, and community.

From Laughter to Lifelong Friendship

“We both giggled our way through that class,” Cathy Cuff-Coffman said, recalling a shared “poop diet” experience with Jessica Harris. “And we paid way too much money,” she added with a laugh.

Harris chimed in, “Yeah, but we had a good time.” Mitch agreed, saying, “There are no bad events, just good stories.” That sentiment framed the entire session—a recognition that even challenging moments can sow the seeds of deep connection.

Indeed, Cathy reflected, “We developed a lifelong connection.” Jamie Clendening, ever the voice of silver linings, responded, “Thank goodness something good came out of it.”

Rethinking Access and Inclusion

Jessica’s encounters with the inaccessibility of hard-bound and paperback book conventions strongly motivated her. What started as frustration sparked action: she founded an online book club that now includes more than 2,500 members.

“There’s no excuse nowadays to not be inclusive, especially for readers,” she said, recalling how she’d had to sit out events because of stairs or dangerously steep ramps. “I have no core control—I’m going to roll and tumble. Who’s picking me up?”

Mitch added, “No, people’s houses are people’s houses.” But Jessica pushed back. “These are hotels. Their excuse is, ‘It’s historic.’ That’s not good enough.”

Jessica’s point was clear: “If you’re choosing beauty over accessibility, you’re leaving out an entire population of readers.”

Holiday Traditions, Transformed

When Cathy asked how holidays had changed post-injury, everyone had a story.

“I can’t eat half the foods,” Jessica explained. “It messes with my bowel program and nerve pain. So, I must be careful now.”

Mitch reflected on how he used to do all the Thanksgiving cooking. “Now I just cut turnips and decorate the tree. It took me three days to get the lights on—but I got it done.”

Travel had also become a major hurdle. “One of my brother’s houses has stairs, and the bathroom isn’t wide enough,” Jessica said. “I’d have to pee in the living room.” Her candor was met with understanding and empathy.

Jamie shared her own challenges. Her husband works long hours in a prison with severe staff shortages, leaving her alone for holidays. “I didn’t go to Thanksgiving. The ramps were too dangerous. I missed being with everyone, especially after his grandmother passed away.”

The pain of exclusion resonated deeply. “It’s not about the food,” Jamie said. “It’s about the people.”

Finding Joy in New Ways

Despite these barriers, the group offered inventive workarounds.

Jamie downsized her Christmas tree to four feet so she could decorate it independently. Her kids have their own trees, and the family bakes cookies at her mother-in-law’s fully accessible house.

Melinda, a caregiver for her son Logan, emphasized how even small adaptations made a difference. “We use gift bags when Logan’s grip isn’t strong, and we decorate together, even if he only adds a few ornaments.”

Jessica shared her strategy: take charge. “I’m type A. I plan everything—RSVP deadlines, gift lists. I don’t frame it as a disability need. I frame it as being organized.”

That reframing resonated with Cathy: “You flipped the script and said, ‘I’m in charge.’ You took one of your best traits and made it work for you.”

Games, Laughter, and Connection

To counter the growing perception that her home was no longer the “fun house,” Cathy brainstormed ideas like a photo memory game using childhood pictures. Mitch suggested board games like Mexican Train, and Jamie shared her family’s “cup game” full of pun-based prizes.

“Games are something we can all do together—able-bodied or not,” Cathy said.

Even in laughter, stories of loss surfaced. Jamie recalled her struggle to decorate when her husband wasn’t home. “All my decorations are downstairs. Unless I pay someone to get them, it won’t happen.”

The Power of Attitude

Mitch offered a powerful reminder: “I have an injury. If you don’t accept it, that’s fine. But I accept what I can’t do. You’ve got to stay positive.”

Jessica agreed. “If you walk in thinking it’s going to be a disaster, it probably will be. Your energy is contagious.”

The group nodded along. “Exactly,” Mitch said. “You can’t control the past, but you can control how you respond.”

Support and Tough Love

Melinda spoke about pushing Logan to develop independence, while still being present. “You don’t have to have every little thing figured out before you live on your own,” she told him.

Jessica echoed that transition. “I was scared, but I moved out. I live 12 houses down, so I still see my parents every day.”

That balance between self-sufficiency and support ran throughout the conversation. As Jessica put it, “It might take me 15 minutes to do something that used to take two—but now it doesn’t take 15 anymore.”

Advocating for Better Healthcare Access

The conversation turned serious as Jessica and Jamie shared harrowing experiences in hospitals. Both described being forced to transfer onto gurneys without proper equipment, risking injury and embarrassment.

Jamie, who champions healthcare equity as part of her advocacy work, noted, “It took me eight years to find a wheelchair-accessible scale. I once received too much anesthesia and flatlined on the table—because they didn’t weigh me.”

Jessica nodded. “Healthcare should be accessible for everyone—not just for those who can walk.”

Looking Ahead

In closing, Jamie praised the group for its honesty and support. “I love this group. It’s just so good to bounce ideas off each other. We don’t know until we try.”

Mitch agreed. “You put stuff out there. See who’s up for it.”

Their message was clear: challenges exist, but creativity, humor, and connection can go a long way. As Jessica summed it up: “We can’t change our circumstances. But we can change our approach.”