Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Disabled Cruising 2017 Part 5: All Good Things…


The last time we flew home from the Caribbean, the airline lost both of my power wheelchairs. That memory, and the knowledge that we had eight wheelchair transfers ahead of us, might have induced a certain dread for the trip home, but it didn’t. We had something working in our favor—first class seats on both flights. Did we spent more of Kim’s eBay earnings on such an indulgence? No. We had paid for coach, but for no apparent reason, they assigned us to first class.

When we have short layovers, like we did on this trip home, we always specify that both wheelchairs be checked through to our destination. But when we arrived in Philadelphia, they brought my Permobil wheelchair up to the mouth of the plane, despite my instructions to the contrary. Kim, Andy, Karen, and I explained that we didn’t have time to reassemble the Permobil, transfer me to it, disassemble it, and get it on the next plane. Per the tags on the wheelchair, it was supposed to be checked straight through to Boston.

“No problem. We’ll get your wheelchair to your next flight.”

I was satisfied. Kim was skeptical.

The airport wheelchair they brought me was rather ancient, but I knew I’d only be in it for a short time.

“Let’s remove the armrest,” I said, “so I can slide from this aisle chair into the airport wheelchair.”

Six people tried to get the armrest off, then one of the airport employees stated the obvious. “The armrests on this wheelchair are not removable.”

“Then let’s remove the leg rests,” I said, “and I’ll slide in the chair from the front.”

Six people tried to get the leg rests off, then one of the airport employees stated the obvious. “The leg rests on this wheelchair are not removable.”

Apparently, I was the first wheelchair user this airport had ever encountered. The only option became lifting me up and into the wheelchair, instead of sliding. Six people each grabbed a piece of me and made it happen. I survived.

When we reached the gate for my Boston flight, they had already begun boarding the plane. In most cases, this would have caused me some consternation, because passengers already seated in the plane would have been able to gawk at me as I boarded. They would see how the sausage is made. But I didn’t mind in this instance because I was in seat 1A. Surrounded by my team of lifters, pullers, and tuggers, nobody would get a good look at the sausage-making other than the guy in 1C.

Soon after we boarded our final leg of the trip, the flight attendants closed the door, and we were ready to go. But we didn’t go. Kim’s instincts had been right. The pilot came on the speaker system and said, “We are all ready to go but are waiting for an electric wheelchair to be loaded into the luggage compartment. Once that is done, we’ll be underway.”

At least 100 people, the front half of the plane who could see me when I boarded, knew damn well whose wheelchair was holding things up.

I expect their reactions broke down this way:

50 of those 100 passengers thought, “How awesome that somebody so disabled is still able to travel. I guess I can wait a few minutes.”

12 passengers thought, “His poor wife…”

10 thought, “Look at his wife, that lucky bastard.”

7 thought, “I can’t believe the pilot just singled him out that way. Very inconsiderate.”

Sadly, 6 passengers thought, “People like him shouldn’t be allowed to fly. He holds up everybody.”

5 thought, “I wonder why he can’t walk.”

4 thought, “How can he afford to be in first class? Must’ve got a big settlement.”

3 thought, “What if he has to pee on the flight? Or worse?”

2 passengers thought, “I wish I was paralyzed so I could quit this damn job.”

And 1 passenger probably thought to herself, “I don’t know if he has MS or something else, but I sure hope my MS never gets that bad.”

When we arrived in Boston, Andy went to get the van and Karen, Kim, and I headed to baggage claim. Everything was accounted for except the iBot. I went to the baggage office to inquire. The gentleman in front of me was ripping the person behind the desk a new one.

He said, “I am appalled that you would treat a first-class passenger this way.”

You poor baby. You poor fucking baby.

The other attendant quickly found my iBot, and we were on our way.

So ended another wonderful vacation. I’m grateful that I have the resources to travel this way. And I’m thankful for the help of my brothers, my sisters-in-law, and most of all, my amazing wife. We had so much fun that we’re going on another cruise this summer.

Maybe I’ll blog about it.

For part 4, click here.

2 comments:

  1. So insensitive of that dumb pilot to mention that it was your wheelchair that was holding up the plane. But if we let every comment and gawk affect us we would never travel. So glad you have an awesome family to travel with. Glad you had a good trip and enjoy your summer trip. Kathy

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  2. I loved the thoughts of all your 100 fellow passengers ........... gave me a chuckle for the day!
    You don't do too bad for an amateur comedian.
    Thanks for "taking us along" on your trip.
    Dee/OH

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