In Case of Fire … Take Stairs?


The “Texas toboggan team”: Lindsay Stubbs, John Beer, Cody Timpone and Matthew Haynes.

Life can go from 0 to 60 in just a moment.

It was the sleepy hour after lunch. We were completing an OT session at TIRR Memorial Hermann, a research and rehabilitation hospital in The Woodlands, Texas. My OT and I had spent a productive session figuring out voice recognition apps, but I was drifting and daydreaming about a three-alarm burrito on the way home. That’s when the white emergency light overhead started flashing.

A voice on the PA told us to head to the stairways. Do not use elevators. Staff will help those who need assistance. My therapist looked across the room to a physical therapy assistant who had us laughing for the last hour with his clever quips and dad jokes. “There’s my emergency guy,” she said.

Dad jokes’ name was Matthew Haynes, the unit’s designated safety officer who trains and runs yearly emergency training for all staffers. “This is not a drill,” he said. “Let’s start moving to the exit.” There was no dad joke in his voice.

A dozen or so people in the room heard his announcement, as did many more spread around the rest of the floor. Some, like me, had mobility issues or other disabilities.

The stairways stacked up with people. A bunch of us waited in the hall for a few long minutes, quiet and tense, not freaking out but not saying a word. In my power chair, I was near the back of the pack. There was no point in jumping to conclusions, but as we waited, we couldn’t help but wonder what was on the other side of the steel door or on the other floors.

Over my shoulder Haynes said, “We’ll have to transfer you to a lighter push chair or to the Med Sled. Which do you prefer?”

How do you answer that? And what’s a Med Sled? It didn’t seem like a good time to play 20 questions, so I said, “Whatever you think is best.”

“OK,” he said. “We’ll have to go back.”

I u-turned in the crowded hallway and we backtracked to the gym, in the direction opposite the exit. Haynes’ expertise was apparent, as he calmly gave my therapist and another rehab technician instructions and answered questions.

“I was daydreaming about a three-alarm burrito on the way home, when the white emergency light overhead started flashing.”

For once I was able to describe where all my belts, hoses, wires and straps were located, without stumbling over my tongue. My wife says I give terrible directions, but perhaps emergencies can focus you, and I was picking up on the laser-like vibe of medical professionals.

I reclined my chair to lie flat. They folded my arms over my chest and flipped back the wheelchair armrests. Then they lifted me onto the Med Sled emergency evacuation device. It is a sling formed of a sheet of high-density plastic that can be easily rolled up and stored in a bag. Haynes explained to me later that when you unroll it, you get a contour shape that curls in at the sides to keep in oxygen tanks, wound VACs, or my arms and medical bag. They secured my head on a pillow.

med sled device

My therapist and the rehab tech each grabbed a long strap at my feet to pull me along. One of the things I miss since being in a wheelchair is tobogganing. Many times I’ve thought, wouldn’t it be cool to go one more time? But I never guessed that toboggan ride would happen at a medical center.

No one could see the glee behind my mask. Of course, I followed the decorum and seriousness of the situation, but hey, this might never happen again, so for the moment I was enjoying the ride.

Once in the stairwell, things moved fast. Using straps and a carabiner hook that attached to the posts fixing the handrail to the wall, one person controlled my rate of descent while the others guided me down the stairs. Thanks in part to the strong Med Sled material, designed to protect the spine, I felt only a slight bump at each landing.

The other nice surprise was turning the corner and learning we were only on the second floor. I should have known this after weeks of sessions, but throughout the incident, my mind flashed back to the longtime high-rise job I’d held before going on disability, and I was preparing to descend 14 floors. So much for clarity of thought in emergencies.

Outside, the entire building was evacuated, with people abuzz and milling about. They laid me on the sidewalk just as the firetrucks arrived. It turned out to be a false alarm — a worker had set it off without even knowing. Hats off to the cool-as-cucumber health care workers at TIRR, proving once again that heroes wear scrubs. They performed with precision and gave me one last toboggan ride I’ll never forget.

Every Evacuation Is Unique

Haynes later said that drill was their second evacuation of someone with mobility issues like mine. They continue to train for people with varied or multiple disabilities, including by getting in the sling themselves. “We get in it and go down the stairs,” he says. “It is pretty comfy.”

TIRR’s preparedness plan began with on-site training from Med Sled’s manufacturer, Ethos Preparedness. “We offer a ‘train the trainer’ program,’” says Rob Marshall, Ethos’ director of sales. The Ethos training team conducts “probably hundreds of classes a year,” he says.

The device was introduced in 2004 to meet the needs of two 17-story hospital buildings in St. Louis. Today, Marshall says there are over 100,000 units deployed in 26 countries. Every one of the top-20 hospitals in the U.S. as ranked by U.S. News and World Report has them.

When it comes to tools to aid in evacuations, the Med Sled is not the only game around — a Google search for “evacuation chairs for fire escapes” shows dozens of devices. Many facilities include emergency chairs and lifts in their evacuation plans, and many fire departments carry their own evacuation chairs or slings. The experts I interviewed were unanimous in urging readers to seek out those plans and speak to facility management wherever they live, work or spend time.

“What you trained to do is what you’re going to do.”

Because condos and apartment buildings are compartmentalized, Chicago Fire Department District Chief Walter Schroeder says that unless fire is near the unit, “almost nine times out of 10 in a residential, we will have the occupants stay where they’re at.” Evacuations are “the most dangerous time,” he says, risking exposure to contaminants and the fire itself. CFD advises sheltering in place, communicating through 911 and the building’s emergency alarm systems. Fire companies have evacuation devices they can deploy when and if evacuation becomes necessary.

Fire Marshall Kevin Wiley, a 41-year veteran of the Park Forest Fire Department in suburban Chicago, says simply evacuating someone to a floor below a fire can be a good solution for a small, localized fire. “To evacuate you all the way out of the building may not be a prudent thing to do,” he says. “We may just keep you a couple of floors below the fire with the firefighter there.”

A common high-rise feature is the “area of refuge,” constructed as a safe space on every floor, typically in a stairwell or balcony. These are equipped with emergency communications and are required to provide enough space to keep wheelchairs out of the way of doors and foot traffic. Pressurized stairwells that prevent smoke and toxic gases from entering are common in areas of refuge, although not universal. Many feature pressurized “smoke tower” stairwells, entered through a vestibule of double doors, that afford three hours of protection and time for rapid-ascent teams to arrive.

Don’t be surprised when a building’s emergency plan for people with disabilities includes use of the elevator. “Fire-proof elevators are becoming more prevalent as time goes on,” Wiley says. Their cars and working elements are constructed to be noncombustible. “There should be a sign there on the elevators that they can be used as evacuation routes.” Checking your elevator in advance is crucial.

Taking Control

To navigate such a varied landscape, the common chorus of the experts is to take control by being prepared. “There’s only one way for you to be prepared and that’s to think about something before it happens,” says Wiley.

The National Fire Protection Association offers a striking example:

During the 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center, a man with a mobility impairment was working on the 69th floor. With no plan or devices in place, it took over six hours to evacuate him. In the 2001 attack on the World Trade Center, the same man had prepared himself to leave the building using assistance from others and an evacuation chair he had acquired and had under his desk. It only took one hour and 30 minutes to get him out of the building this second time.

“What you trained to do is what you’re going to do,” says Bill Fertig, the director of United Spinal Association’s Resource Center and a wheelchair user who escaped a multistory hotel fire. He recommends getting to know local fire and emergency officials, learning a building’s emergency plan and improving on it yourself to ensure it’s not a “boilerplate plan.” Also regularly train and review your plan.

If your building has a fire safety director, make sure you connect with them and are listed in your building’s updated pre-plan book. Fire commanders and incident response teams can use the book to see floorplans, emergency numbers and individuals needing assistance. Also, make sure you can hear alarms and emergency instructions from your residence or workspace and know the location of communications devices in the stairwells.

The firefighters I spoke with suggested a few simple steps you can take to bolster your emergency preparedness:

  • Take five minutes to get to know the different parts of the building and where the exits are.
  • Find the stairwells that are areas of refuge and locate the communication systems there. Find the nearest stairwell, and then find another in the opposite direction. Check how easy it is to open their doors and hit the communications buttons.
  • Check whether elevators are part of the fire plan.
  • Look for fire alarm pull stations throughout the building.
  • Count the doors between your apartment or office to the stairwells. If there is smoke, you may not be able to see very well.
  • Recruit at least two disability aides to help report, evacuate and keep you company during emergencies.

Accessibility is the law of the land, so I had the misguided notion that when emergencies do occur, angels — or pros like at TIRR Memorial Hermann — would automatically swoop into the rescue. But fire doesn’t read the ADA. My toboggan ride showed that the safety I took for granted was the result of careful preparation and training.

And now, I know that preparation begins with me.

Resources


Support New Mobility

Wait! Before you wander off to other parts of the internet, please consider supporting New Mobility. For more than three decades, New Mobility has published groundbreaking content for active wheelchair users. We share practical advice from wheelchair users across the country, review life-changing technology and demand equity in healthcare, travel and all facets of life. But none of this is cheap, easy or profitable. Your support helps us give wheelchair users the resources to build a fulfilling life.

donate today

3 Comments
Oldest
Newest Most Voted
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Arthur
Arthur
2 years ago

Nice story, but possibly more interesting would be advice for travelers and others that are visiting in multi-story buildings… In my experience, a not-so-excellent way to get that “deer in the headlights” look is to ask the hotel desk clerk that is checking you into an ADA room on an upper floor what the fire evacuation plan is for you as a wheeler that can’t do stairs… I’ve gotten about a 90% fail rate on getting an answer…

John
2 years ago
Reply to  Arthur

Good point, Arthur. As Matthew told me, First Floor.

John
2 years ago
Reply to  Arthur

Arthur, definitely look at the hotel safety publication that we linked, and also the bulletpoints at the end, some of which came from Bill Fertig of United Spinal, who successfully evacuated himself out of a multi-story hotel fire.