Fellow romance author Susan Elizabeth Phillips apparently inadvertently started a Facebook incident yesterday when she stated her opinion about people who recline their airline seats during flights. Given the fact that she posted her views on her Facebook page, I heartily respect her right to do so.
Yet, as I pondered her post about who has the right to seat space and the general grumbles about modern-day travel, I thought it might be helpful if I shared my recent travel experience so that others could have a glimpse of what it’s like to be in my shoes for a bit. I share this story with mostly resignation, some anger and hopefully some humor– because at the end of the day if you can’t laugh, life will exhaust you.
To begin with, let me give you a little bit of background. I have spastic cerebral palsy and I use a power chair similar to the one that Christopher Reeves used. It uses a tilt and recline system to relieve the pressure on my joints so that I’m in less pain. In March, my oldest son married a lovely woman. He attends medical school in Florida and we are from Oregon. Thus, began our travel adventure (nightmare).
At a freakishly early hour in the morning, (1:30 AM Pacific Standard Time) my husband, Leonard and our 11-year-old son, Justin headed out to the airport with a sense of excitement and adventure as it is the first time that Justin has ever flown. Of course, this trip has taken months to plan because of the logistics of flying with a power wheelchair and a child. For an added challenge, I made delicate handcrafted flowers to put on the wedding cake that Brandon and I have to make in the two days before his wedding. I am terrified that they’re going to break on the way to the wedding. One of the reasons that we needed to get to the airport so early is so that I can get a special gate tag for my wheelchair. We have nearly two-hour layover in Phoenix before we get to Tampa. I specifically planned our flights this way because it’s nearly impossible for me to use the airplane facilities.
When you have a gate tag, the airline personnel are supposed to bring your medical equipment to the plane for your use. As you may have guessed, when we got to Phoenix, there was no chair of any kind. No aisle chair, no guest chair and certainly not my wheelchair.
There was no way that I was going to be able to make the nine hour flight without relieving myself. So, my husband helped me drag myself the dozen or so rows back to the airplane bathroom. Unfortunately, it was too small for him to be able to assist me so I fell against the sink. I could barely make it back to my seat and was completely exhausted. After my husband got me settled, I sent him and my son off the plane so that they could stretch their legs and get something to eat. There was no need to trap Justin just because I couldn’t move. Eventually, the new shift of flight attendants came on board and gave me some water. Hot, sticky airline seat—1 Mary—0. All I can say is, thank goodness for my Kindle. 😉
Needless to say, we were all very grateful to get off the airplane in Tampa. We had to rent an accessible van to drive to Sarasota. (In case you’re curious, it’s almost cheaper to rent a limousine– but those aren’t accessible.) I had done everything humanly possible to make sure that things went smoothly at this step, I had spoken to the manager at the hotel, the booking agency had confirmed my reservations and my paperwork confirmed that I had reserved a fully ADA compliant room with a roll-in shower and grab bars. When we entered the room, not only was there no roll-in shower, the door was so narrow that I could not even get my wheelchair into the bathroom. After six hours of intense searching and negotiations to get our money back and an incredibly rude remark from the hotel staff about having to refund the deposit, we finally found an accessible hotel that that cost us $900.00 more to stay over the course of five days. But, we had no choice. It’s not as if we could camp on the side of the road.
In case you’re wondering, this is where the anger part comes in. I did everything that I was supposed to do; yet my family was still stranded 25 years after the passage of the Americans With Disabilities Act.
The wedding was beautiful, the weather gods cooperated, the cake was delicious, the bride was stunning and my son has never been happier. So, we said tearful goodbyes and headed home to Oregon. Of course, this meant another plane ride. Unfortunately, for this leg of the trip our layover wasn’t until Seattle. That made for a really long plane ride. Despite having gate tags and requesting my wheelchair again, my chair was not available. But, at least this time there was an attendant with a push-able wheelchair. Which is great in theory, until that attendant—who was a complete and total stranger to you—is standing in your bathroom stall with you while you try to relieve yourself and she’s telling you that if you don’t hurry up you’re going to miss your connecting flight. I can tell you from personal experience that this is not conducive to performance, even if you’ve been on a plane for seven hours.
When we got to the departure gate, it was discovered that there were equipment problems, so our flight was delayed for another hour and a half. I watched my wheelchair with its florescent gate tag sitting on the tarmac while I sat in a rigid plastic chair unable to move with tears of pain streaming down my face. Fortunately for me, my son was sacked out on the airport floor. The airline representative tried to make it out as if it was my fault that my chair got left out on the tarmac, suggesting that perhaps I simply left the gate too soon. I’m not really sure how that was possible considering that we were absolutely the last people off the plane by the time they hustled up the aisle chair to retrieve me.
So Susan, if I’m ever privileged enough to be sitting in front of you on a flight someday, I apologize if I don’t take the time to warn you in advance that I might encroach into your space by four inches or so. It’s quite probable that I’ve got bigger issues to consider. #RealLifeProblems
Quote from Susan Elizabeth Phillips’ Facebook Status:
To every person who tilts his/her seat back on an airplane… Yes, you have every right to do that, but please understand exactly what message you’re sending and what this says about you. It says you are selfish, self-absorbed, but most of all, it says you care absolutely nothing about the comfort of the person behind you. And…I kinda hate you. Grrrrr…..