Logistically, getting a wheelchair at the airport is easier than I’d first imagined. Pretty much, I just ask the curbside skycap or the ticket agent for a wheelchair, and I get one. Plus a place to sit until it arrives. And in the chair with my attendant, I get to skip to the front of the security line and board the plane first as a “passenger who needs a little bit of extra time on the jetway.”
No airport staff member has ever asked me to prove my disability. No one has ever refused me a wheelchair, despite the fact that I’m a young-looking 35-year-old and I “don’t look sick.” Not a single passenger at the airport has ever pointed at me and screeched “what are you doing cutting in line–you’re not really sick or disabled!”
Poof! Easiest thing in the world, right? Wrong. At least in my case.
For me, the pesky emotional component of asking for the wheelchair took me years to get over. I was a competitive gymnast, a martial artist, a four-day-a-week gym rat. I’m not *really* disabled–I’m not paralyzed or 90 years old, my leg isn’t broken, I don’t have lupus or MS. I don’t deserve to use a wheelchair. Just because I sometimes have to fight not to collapse in the security line, and I have to sit and rest for 15 minutes after going through the metal detector, doesn’t mean I’m disabled to the point of being unable to go through an airport.
Oh. Er, uh…right. Hm.
My truth is that I sometimes need a wheelchair to manage in airports. Even though I can walk, and often enjoy gentle hiking and strolling while I’m traveling, airports are hard. They’re stressful and big, and the lines can be atrocious. And lines hurt me, literally. So I get the wheelchair. And I have a better trip.
This is a great post. One travel experience I had (pre-disability) left me with a broken foot at the start of the day of my return trip. I was underinsured and couldn’t afford to see a hospital away from home, and back then I was Super Tough Girl, so I managed to drive and return my rental car, and get through security, before collapsing in a chair and telling the airline attendant that I thought I had a broken foot, and if she could let me board early, I would appreciate it.
Those amazing employees brought me bags of ice and tiny packages of ibuprofen, and they arranged a wheelchair at my connection. On the plane, the attendants reseated me in an empty row, brought me more ice, and were generally just amazing.
The wheelchair was no big deal (although my driver was a bit dangerous, heh), and everyone was respectful and kind.
Fast forward a few years, when travel has become incredibly taxing. And my own pride has kept me from calling for a wheelchair even though I’ve been there already, and I know it’s not that bad. Your post has made me think twice next time, though, because just the security line is hellish– by the time i’ve waited in line for 15-20 minutes (and by “wait in line” i mean “lean on every post I can, sit on the floor for awhile, bitch and moan, and end up practically in tears before having to wrestle my shoes on AND off without falling flat on my face”), i’m in agony, and hoping like crazy the gate is close. the whole experience has made me say i don’t want to travel anywhere by plane ever again.
but maybe i won’t swear it off if i can find cheap tickets to hawaii
Thanks so much for reading and felling your story!
I do hope that I’ve changed your mind about air travel–I’ve found that a few days lounging about on the beach in Hawaii is extremely beneficial to my health. If you know what I mean.
And…I thought I was the only one who ever had to sit down on the floor while waiting in lines. Guess not. Really, the wheelchair is soooooo much more comfortable.
Fabulous blog, great post, inspiring message, awesome ideas.
I’ll dedicate my first vacation with chronic migraines to you.
lol…thanks much for reading!
After your first vacation, ping me if you’d like to do a guest post about it here. I’d love to post your experiences and what you learn.