

0.5
Very poor disability awareness
I visited Compton Verney today. The driver of the shuttle bus shut the door on me,despite me saying that I wasn’t able to stand, leaving my falling on my face in the car park. Having scrambled back in to my wheelchair to get to the Welcome Centre for some help, the woman at the desk said she ‘couldn’t accept my version of what had happened’ Feeling increasingly distressed,shocked and humiliated, she then tried to usher me away from other patrons. When I refused to go into another room with this hostile woman, she called security. Only when my carer intervened , did she call the manager who ,finding herself dealing with a sobbing disabled woman in a wheelchair and a self righteous member of staff, seemed overwhelmed by the situation. I realise now, that the shock and embarrassment of being left flailing in a rainy car park had induced a panic attack. Instead of being assisted I was gaslighted and treated with appalling hostility.
My personal assistant restored some dignity and a younger desk assistant got me some coffee with some prompting. I did eventually get lunch and see the exhibition I had come so far to see, but I haven’t stopped shaking.
I visited Compton Verney today. The driver of the shuttle bus shut the door on me,despite me saying that I wasn’t able to stand, leaving my falling on my face in the car park. Having scrambled back in to my wheelchair to get to the Welcome Centre for some help, the woman at the desk said she ‘couldn’t accept my version of what had happened’ Feeling increasingly distressed,shocked and humiliated, she then tried to usher me away from other patrons. When I refused to go into another room with this hostile woman, she called security. Only when my carer intervened , did she call the manager who ,finding herself dealing with a sobbing disabled woman in a wheelchair and a self righteous member of staff, seemed overwhelmed by the situation. I realise now, that the shock and embarrassment of being left flailing in a rainy car park had induced a panic attack. Instead of being assisted I was gaslighted and treated with appalling hostility.
My personal assistant restored some dignity and a younger desk assistant got me some coffee with some prompting. I did eventually get lunch and see the exhibition I had come so far to see, but I haven’t stopped shaking.