For many of us, some of our best memories are made on family trips. Whether you go to the beach, amusement park, or perhaps a cruise, this is an exciting time, one that is met with great expectation. And the best part is, everyone gets along so well and there are absolutely no problems at all. Well okay, maybe not…
Every trip has the potential for things to not go quite as planned. Between family conflict, and a myriad of otherwise interesting moments, hardly any trip ever taken fully lives up to our expectations.
Now that I’ve painted a picture closer to reality, let’s jump in with two feet, or perhaps two feet and a wheelchair. To say that travel requires a great deal of preparation for Steve and I, is to put it mildly. We do not travel lightly. Walk into our bedroom and you will notice a Hoyer lift
What item does the thought of forgetting make you anxious?
For us, it’s everything. Our bodies aren’t designed to be in a paralyzed state, so it takes quite a bit of medical intervention so that Steve can maintain as independent lifestyle as possible. Because of that though, medicine and various medical supplies are imperative, and yes, all of that must come with us. Forget any of it and there will be problems.
Alright, so we have finally arrived at our destination and everything is accounted for. We check in and open up the “handicap accessible room”, only to discover that while there is a walk in shower, it has a huge lip on it, making it quite difficult to roll the shower chair up into it. Okay, could be worse…I’ll just have to use my muscles to lift the chair up over the lip. Uh oh, the bed is on a permanent platform with no room underneath. So, what’s the problem with that you ask? Well, there wouldn’t be, except for the fact that when a bed isn’t elevated at all, it is impossible for the legs of the Hoyer lift to get underneath. The solution…straddle the end of the bed as much as possible and pull Steve up into the bed that way.
At least we got the room with a view of the ocean….yep, and Steve can almost see it from as close as he can get to the balcony. There is a huge lip going out to the balcony, way too large to lift a power wheelchair over, and it wouldn’t matter anyway, the balcony itself is too small for him to fit even if he was able to make it out there.
I wish I could say I was exaggerating about this, but it was a reality for us one year at Myrtle Beach, and some version of it in several other places we have been.
I would not be truthful if I said that none of this has bothered me. To be frank, it is very frustrating, especially in the moment. When Steve and I have reflected on it though, we have realized some things.
- First of all, no matter what we have dealt with, we have had good vacations with wonderful people, filled with the kinds of memories that last a lifetime.
- Secondly, we have been blessed to have accommodations that have been pretty “accessible” and we live in a time and place where it’s always getting better.
- Thirdly, most people just don’t know. They are ignorant about what “accessibility” is really all about, and we can’t fault them for that. Once they realize that what they thought was accessible doesn’t work for Steve, they are genuinely apologetic (usually).
- Lastly, part of the reason that there is not more awareness is that oftentimes, people in wheelchairs don’t want to and / or don’t have the means to go anywhere. We have been very fortunate to be able to travel.
So what now?
Accessible travel is something that Steve and I are very passionate about. It all starts with creating an awareness, and we believe that we are not alone.