You’ve just stumbled upon a man lying unconscious in the woods. He appears to have fallen from a tree stand. What do you do?

That question confronted participants of a recent Wilderness Medicine Seminar at Methodist Rehabilitation Center’s Flowood campus. And the answer was probably a surprise to some.

Rather than rushing to act, it’s best to size up the scene for threats to your own safety, advised seminar leader Dr. Philip Blount.

As a 20-year veteran of law enforcement, Devie Freeman is used to closing cases.

But still open is the case of what exactly happened to him on the night of Aug. 22, 2016 at his Canton, Miss., residence.

“In the wee hours of the morning, around 3 a.m., apparently I was attempting to go downstairs—I’m assuming to get a bottle of water—and I fell down the stairs,” Freeman said. “Later, I was informed that my door was open and my alarm went off, so the police came to the apartment for the alarm call and they found me laying on the sofa and bleeding.”

The members of Jackson State University’s dance ensemble give each other nicknames to reflect who they are and what they’ve been through.

They call Martez Baldwin “Indestructibly Paid.”

“They say I’m indestructible because I’m not letting anything stop me,” Baldwin said. “And the paid part, they said that’s because I’ve paid my dues.”

Baldwin, 27, has lived most of his adult life under the shadow of lupus, a chronic autoimmune disease that attacks healthy cells in the body.

As Sheila Burnham boarded a boat to go scuba diving in Belize, the Madison, Miss., resident could feel her fellow passengers doing double takes.

At the time, tourist destinations were hardly the domain of paraplegic wheelchair users.

“I was a novelty,” she said.

Today, she’s less of a spectacle as she hits the slopes in Colorado or hunts game in the wilds of Africa. Thanks to the Americans with Disabilities Act, more people than ever see the sights from the seat of a wheelchair.

But traveling with a disability is still no roll in the park.