I Don’t Wanna Leave!/Are We There Yet?

Traveling with a Disability & How I Made it From an Island in the Pacific to Another in the Gitchee Gumee

I’m just gonna say it:

Traveling with a disability is hard as fuck. But we make it work. Because we’re human, and quite frankly… badass. We have lives to live and dreams to follow — just like everybody else. And hopefully, by doing our thing and advocating for ourselves, we fly, we soar, and we make it easier for the next crip homie to traverse the inequities of airline travel.

*stay tuned below this article for tips and tricks on airline travel as a PWD

---

I stared out the car window with a melancholy sweetness in my heart, on that rainy Hawaiian day, I still feel it as I write this. The jungle outside a rich green blur through the droplet covered pane. And although I’m glad to be home on Madeline Island, there’s no denying that I left a piece of my heart on Big Island as we took off from Hilo Airport on October 1st.

It was my last commute to Hilo, from the place I had called home for exactly one year. Just a few weeks earlier my caregiver, Amanda, had mentioned how much she loved that commute. How lucky she felt that sitting in traffic didn’t bother her. And she was right. There were so many times we found ourselves in bumper-to-bumper traffic without a care in the world. You could see new flowers blooming, and take in more of the chaotic thickness of the jungle while crawling down Kea’au-Pāhoa Road.

But here I was staring out a window and saying goodbye. Goodbye to the mango trees. Goodbye to the monstera. Goodbye to the beautiful commute to town that we had done so many times. It was time now for another adventure, this time across the Pacific, all the way to the Chequamegon Bay, to another tiny island in Lake Superior.

As I approached the check-in counter at Hawaiian Airlines, I took a deep breath, with Smokey in my lap, Orah and her cat beside me, and a manual wheelchair and 5 giant suitcases in tow. (Inhale. Exhale.) Here we go. Let the stressful ritual of cross-examination check-in as a person with a disability commence. (Insert prayers and visualizations of ease and joy and grace here)

Aloha Angie, please be cool.

And she was, but daaaaaaamn. After an hour of questioning my medical bag (with my shower chair in it), my wheelchairs, my wheelchair batteries, our bags and their contents/weight, and our pets and their carriers/dimensions, we finally found our way to the security checkpoint.

No more questions, PLEASE.

Good Lord, Hawaiian Airlines is thorough as fuck.

Well, now I know that my power-assist wheelchair has lithium ion batteries, but my power chair is definitely a dry cell battery — all information you can either find on the wheels of the power assist, or on the Quantum website. Such important information for absolutely nothing, except this.

It’s a good thing I always (well, hopefully) get to the airport at least two hours early — you have to allot for disability time, because this is a very real thing. It is high priority to have enough time to say ‘what up’ to the airline workers at the gate, make sure I get as close to the front as possible, and ensure that they have an aisle chair, etc. From there, baby has to cath, eat, and fill my water bottle before boarding begins. I’ve been late and had to board in front of a line of anxious strangers. Trust me, not the audience you want to hold. Longest five minutes of my life.

Once we were on the plane and settled, and the cat was properly drugged, and the Smokey was cozy hiding under a blanket in my lap, we took a celebratory selfie and high-fived as we soared over the Honolulu city lights.

We did it. One more wild journey we conquered together without losing our sanity, or any other valuables for that matter.

*That selfie is now my favorite picture of Orah and me over our last three years working together.

I learn something new every flight, without fail. Some new trick as to how I can make this traveling thing easier as a wheelchair-user. Some new way to be in collective flow with my caregiver while in a crazy environment.

Whether it’s wearing a pad — just in case my period decides to come a week early, just for fun, or opting to have my caregiver transfer me instead of two strangers (no offense y’all, but she’s a pro), or packing vitamin C in my carry-on to avoid a UTI, or holding that aloha spirit in the forefront of my travel-mode-stressball mind, I always learn some nuanced trick-of-the-trade to make crip life on the road a lil bit smoother.

Big love,

KP

---

Traveling without a disability is challenging enough as it is, so when you add in the challenge of assistive devices, medical supplies, and an entire human body interacting with numerous other people in order to move through space, in a chaotic and stressful environment, it can be just a liiiiiiittle tricky.

So here we go. I’m going to share with you my experience, and what I have learned in order to smooth out the ride.

1. Prepare for the world to be prepared for you

2. Think about what you need in order to be comfortable and safe

3. Prepare to advocate for your body, your assistive devices, and your comfort and safety

---

First of all, you’re gonna need help when you’re sitting at the end of the gate transferring into an aisle chair. Ask a flight attendant if they will help you bring your stuff to your seat. Most people want to help, they just don’t know how, so you have to direct people. I know this can be taxing, but this is our reality.

Make sure your seat number before you get to this point!

1- Comfort:

Travel cushion — I don’t use my chair cushion, it’s too thick and I prefer to leave it on my chair.

here’s my fave:

Hvllyan Gel Seat Cushion for Long Sitting (Thick & Extra Large), Gel Cushion for Wheelchair Soft, Gel Chair Cushion, Gel Car Seat Cushion Breathable, Gel Seat Cushion for Office Chair for Hip Pain https://a.co/d/c6rr9qp

Water bottle

Vitamin c/emergenc-c

Cozy sweater

Throw Blanket

Neck pillow

2- Wheelchair preservation:

Remove headrest, cup holder, etc. and store in overhead bins

I always make sure I have a little chat with the tarmac guys at the gate before I transfer into the aisle chair and they take my chair. I show them how to lock and unlock it and I show them how to operate the hand controls in case they need to. But I always encourage that they just push it and I show them where they can, and cannot push it from.

Bonus: Make a note to tape to the back of your chair for proper moving and stowing.

3 - Packing:

Make sure you don’t put all of your eggs in one basket. Literally. If you have a carry-on, bring some extra supplies with you in there. Or if you have multiple bags split up, so that not all of the things you absolutely need are in one bag, in case it goes missing.

Weigh your bag, so that you’re not paying an extra baggage fee.

The medical bag can be over 50 pounds

Your medical supply bag is free, but don’t put other random stuff in there cause they won’t be happy with you

You can bring an extra manual chair if necessary

4- Service dog:

Bring a collapsible water dish

Fill out Service dog paperwork in advance online

5- Transfers:

Use your own caregiver — save your shoulders

Or if you use the attendants, direct them, and tell them to transfer on your account. 1, 2, 3. SHOW THEM how to do it properly — you’re the boss.

*vagina owners — wear a panty liner or pad — you never know 🩸

6- Onboard:

Don’t let them put you in a position to have to have someone crawl over you — it’s awkward and not fair (to anyone) to have to explain to a stranger why you can’t get up.

Make sure you have a flight attendant ally

Don’t hesitate to let them know if you need to use the bathroom and you need an aisle chair

If you needsomething, just ask. It doesn’t hurt. You’re worth it.

Just do it. Take the trip. It’s gonna be ok. People will help you. Take Delta when you can.

Prepare, and you got this.