This winter, for the first time in 10 years, Laurie Simpson and her husband aren’t headed to Florida to take a break from the long Maine winter.

“People keep asking me if I’m bummed out, but I’m really enjoying this winter,” she said in a recent interview, “because I’m not in hibernation mode anymore.”

Simpson, 49, attributes her renewed delight in snowy landscapes and bundle-up temperatures to a remarkable new device, the iBOT motorized wheelchair. The chair provides gutsy four-wheel traction and a unique, computer-regulated balancing mechanism that allows it to climb safely up and down stairs, trundle with ease over uneven sidewalks and bumpy back-40s and – perhaps best of all – lift the seated occupant up to normal, adult-eye-level height and hold her there securely.

Simpson is one of just a handful of Mainers – maybe only two – who own an iBOT. She has had hers for just about a year, and it has made a big difference in her life.

Although she is severely disabled by multiple sclerosis, a chronic neurological disease that causes progressive loss of muscle strength and control, Simpson now can get out into the rough, snow-covered field behind her home in Whitefield to play with her dogs. She can help shovel the paved walkways around the house and make the blustery, 1,000-foot trek down her bumpy gravel driveway to pick up the mail.

Inside, she can work at the kitchen counter and put away clean dishes from her dishwasher – in the upper cabinets, where they belong.

“I really appreciate being able to participate again in the routine, monotonous chores of daily life,” she said. “It makes me less of a burden at home.”

But these domestic activities are only part of what Laurie Simpson can do now. A research assistant in the state attorney general’s office, she can carry on a face-to-face conversation with a colleague without getting a stiff neck from having to look up or a sore throat from speaking extra loudly to make herself heard above knee level. She can search the top drawer of a filing cabinet for a legal document and reach the highest shelf of her bookcase.

She can pull on a jacket and take her faithful companion and service dog, Keebler, out for a discreet bathroom break on the snowy grounds of the State House – using her iBOT to roll neatly up over the formerly insurmountable 5-inch granite curb that separates asphalt from lawn.

“A curb like this might as well be the Empire State Building when you’re in a regular chair,” Simpson remarked, cheerfully showing off her new ability.

Still getting acquainted

Farther north, 44-year-old Waterville resident Bruce Falconer has had his iBOT for only about a month.

“It takes some getting used to,” he admitted during a recent visit in his home. “It’ll be awhile before I’m really comfortable with it.”

Falconer was permanently disabled in November 2000, when he took a nasty fall at work and fractured his sixth thoracic vertebra. Paralyzed from the midchest down, he still has the use of his arms. His new home, which he shares with his wife and 19-year-old stepson, Conner, is fully accessible in a standard wheelchair, with extra-wide doorways, low windows and kitchen counters, and a built-in elevator to the second floor.

Falconer said he still uses his manual wheelchair most of the time because it’s simpler and turning its wheels helps keep his upper body in shape. But he plans to employ the iBot later this month when he starts training for a new line of work through the state’s vocational rehabilitation program. A marine engineer before his injury, Falconer said he hopes to keep his hands dirty in some sort of mechanical work.

And gradually, he’s finding more uses for the iBOT, such as reaching items on higher shelves at the grocery store and pausing for a face-to-face chat when he encounters a friend. He’s plotting a foosball shootout with Conner, now that he can get a better view of the table. And, after a recent snowstorm, he went out for a tour of his quiet suburban neighborhood – impossible in his old, narrow-wheeled chair but “nothing” for the fat tires and gritty mechanics of the new one, he said.

An avid outdoorsman, Falconer is waiting for warmer weather to really put the iBOT to work.

“I have all kinds of places to go in the summer,” he said. “I used to hunt and fish all the time, but I haven’t been able to since my accident. My parents have a place on Great Pond. They built a ramp so I can get into the camp, but now I’ll be able to get right down to the water.”

Access, but not for everyone

The iBOT Mobility System – the device’s patented name – relies on four built-in computers and some complex engineering to achieve these feats of accessibility. It won the approval of the federal Food and Drug Administration in 2003. An improved version got the official nod in 2005. According to the manufacturer, Independence Technology of New Jersey, no serious design flaws or user injuries have been reported.

The base price of an iBOT is $23,900; options such as an extra battery charger or spare tires can ramp it up to $26,000. The company won’t reveal the number of units that have been sold to date. According to company representative Kathy Orf, Veterans Affairs, some private insurers and some state rehabilitation programs will help pay for an iBOT, but it usually takes persistence and persuasion on the part of the consumer. Medicare, she said, views the iBOT as a glorified wheelchair and won’t reimburse beyond the cost of a low-end power chair, usually about $5,000.

To date, about half of the chairs’ owners nationwide have been at least partially reimbursed by some form of insurance, Orf said. She is optimistic that all insurers will become more accepting of the device when consumers demonstrate the extent to which it allows them to resume productive and healthy lives.

Laurie Simpson agrees. She purchased her iBOT out of pocket, then petitioned her insurance company for reimbursement. She wasn’t surprised when her claim initially was denied, and she appealed the decision twice. After the third rejection, she set up an in-person hearing. Once the company decision-makers met her and saw the iBOT in action, they softened.

“I asked them if they thought it was part of their contract to help me get around in life, to be active, to participate in routine, day-to-day activities,” she said. “Or was it good enough for me to be bed-bound, or in a nursing home?” The insurance company reimbursed her for all but a small fraction of the cost.

“If they can see you face-to-face, it makes a difference,” she said.

Bruce Falconer purchased his iBOT outright with a portion of a substantial court-ordered payment from his former employer.

Cost considerations aside, it’s not easy to get an iBOT; the company is strict about certain requirements. For one thing, the disabled individual must weigh between 75 and 250 pounds, so it’s not suitable for young children or seriously overweight people. Individuals also must have the mental and physical ability to operate the arm-mounted joystick that controls the chair’s functions and be willing to participate in an intensive daylong training session and driving test.

Danielle Haggerty of Dragonfly Therapy in Bangor recently become the only person in Maine certified by Independence Technology to assess disabled individuals and determine whether they are good candidates for the high-tech device.

Haggerty said she first encountered the iBOT at Disney World in 2001 – a prototype model was on display in an “innovations” section of the theme park.

“I looked at my husband and said, ‘This is going to change everything; this will let people do what they want to do,'” she recalled recently.

Like Orf, Haggerty expects insurers will grow more receptive to paying for iBOTs as time goes on. “They’ll find out it’s cost-effective to get people more active, back to work and back to their lives,” she predicted.

Independence Technology will have an iBOT chair available for individualized test driving in Portland on March 5, April 17, May 22 and June 26. An appointment is necessary. For information call Danielle Haggerty at (207) 433-7778 or visit www.ibotnow.com.