People with disabilities — whether permanent or

those calls, she suggested that I call Student Health Services to ask for crutches.

So I did just that. I called UB’s Student Health Services, who I thought would be my best option at getting help, and asked for a pair of crutches to let them know I am immobile.

I can’t say I knew what to expect when I injured my knee.

I certainly wasn’t prepared for weeks of bed rest and missed class. I wasn’t prepared to start my last semester in bed, with a pack of frozen peas on my knee, wondering how I was going to leave my bed to go to the bathroom.

As a student, the last thing I should be worrying about is the university’s ability to accommodate me and my injury.

The university should have protocols for injured students, right? After all, anyone can get injured.

Oh, how naive I was.

My left leg was practically immobile the morning after I slipped on ice near South Campus. My pain was unbearable and medicine wasn’t helping.

My parents — my support system — are four hours away, and this was my first time dealing with an injury of this magnitude by myself. My mom was calling me every hour, trying to find ways to help me. On one of

The employee on the other end of the call didn’t ask me about the severity of my injury or even if I was alright. She simply told me that “the only way to get crutches is to schedule a visit with a doctor.”

I tried again. I was in desperate need of crutches; they were my only hope of leaving my bed.

But she insisted I couldn’t get crutches without an appointment. I wasn’t offered any means of transportation to the office, either. The receptionist did tell me that I could try calling local hospitals for crutches but warned me they would be expensive.

I felt dejected and angry.

How could those be my only options? Somehow leave my bed and limp to the Student Health Services building — which is off campus — or cough up $100 for crutches?

Every year, UB students pay a non-negotiable “student health fee” of $439.

And I can’t even get a pair of crutches when I need them.

After this letdown, I moved on to my next option: Campus

Living. I messaged an employee, explained my situation and asked for a wheelchair.

To my surprise, there wasn’t a single wheelchair in the whole Ellicott Complex.

Not one.

Injuries happen all the time, and over 3,000 students live in the Ellicott Complex. How could the university not have one wheelchair in Ellicott?

Who makes these policies and protocols?

This needs to change. People with temporary and permanent injuries and disabilities shouldn’t be an afterthought.

I was angry. I had no option but to accept being bed-bound. Thankfully, someone with Campus Living found a pair of padless, oversized crutches in a supply closet.

It was literally the bare minimum — but I needed to get out of bed somehow.

Student Health Services proved to be completely useless in assisting me with my injury. It was only through the support of my friends that I was able to overcome this experience. I am so thankful that they were willing to help and that some of them have cars because I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.

Online ordering was my saving grace. Frozen foods and nonperishables from Walmart and Target became my lifeline.