Standing from a car seat means pushing down on something that doesn't move. Look at what's in reach: a door on hinges, a seat back that gives, a dash that slopes away. So the body compensates — a rock for momentum, a twist at the hip, a haul on the door frame. That's why it feels like your legs are failing. They aren't. There was never a handhold there. Your stairs have a rail. Your car doesn't.

Open your door and look at the frame. That steel U-shaped loop is the striker. It's bolted into the pillar, and its whole job is to keep the door shut at highway speed. Physical therapists tell patients not to hold the door. They rarely say what to hold instead. Nouri seats into that loop and turns it into a horizontal grab bar for the eight seconds you need one. Then it comes out.

Most car handles are built to hit a price, not to hold a person: a cast neck that flexes, a thin tip that rocks in the loop. One wobble and it goes in the glove box for good. Nouri's head and tip are one piece of forged aluminum — the grain runs straight through the neck instead of stopping at a seam — with a tip sized to sit tight. Rated to 400 lb. Same feel the hundredth time as the first.