Hello Fellow Travelers!
I flew for the first time since brain surgery in 2011 and like almost everything else in my life, it was completely different from my prior flights. In addition to all the usual security concerns (baggage, shoe removal, etc.) I contended with many additional situations that only the "handicapped" get. I was the first on and off the plane, I was escorted by airline personnel. Speaking was not a requirement for me. In other words, the optimum conditions existed for a physically impaired person such as myself.
What has changed flying travel for me from a fairly pleasant experience to a white-knuckled journey in terror?
What has transpired in air travel to make me regard passenger planes as nothing but 200+ human beings strapped to tanks of highly explosive jet fuel?
It wasn't Malaysian 371 (Although it's complete disappearance didn't help matters) that soured it for me.
What now compels me to mentally count all the bodies as they file past my seat? As the passengers keep going by my fear increases exponentially!
Next to the MRI (Brrrrr!) only an airplane comes close to my irrational, overwhelming fear of being buried alive!
As we left the tarmac I glanced at some of the other :"handicapped" passengers seated across from me. One couple in particular held my attention, They had obviously filled out all the same forms we did because they availed themselves of all the services available. It turns out they weren't "disabled" at all, they just didn't feel like walking! I know because I asked. I had to!
And they weren't the only ones! Apparently, this flight abounded with able-bodied passengers that had claimed handicapped status.in order to avoid self-movement at the airport. We saw them hanging out by the gate for hours! I devote most of my energy towards moving forward. Allowing myself to be pushed in any circumstance is counter-intuitive for me. Actually requesting "handicapped" status for me indicates I'm suffering from a profound disability The people across the aisle? They were embarrassed, sheepish, even. And able to walk.
The only thing I hate more than my wheelchair? A random "loaner" wheelchair, You've seen them, at hotels, hospitals. Where were these "walkers" (As in, people that can actually walk) seated? All, except for me were lined up at the gate in airline loaner chairs waiting to get pushed! I judge nothing and nobody. In my view, everyone is doing the best they can. However,if someone is going to all of the trouble to get a handicapped placard for their car (or check off the disabled box with a straight face) it seems to me you'd need to be fairly handicapped, or, at least, somewhat impaired
I don't really understand why flying now terrifies me and I'm not sure it matters. It does and I'll deal with it. What I understand is that as soon as I don't need any assistance I won't accept any. "Fear of Flying" makes me even more determined to stroll through airports, to saunter into terminals, I'll be planning a big airport hike where I skip through several airports in succession..
I flew for the first time since brain surgery in 2011 and like almost everything else in my life, it was completely different from my prior flights. In addition to all the usual security concerns (baggage, shoe removal, etc.) I contended with many additional situations that only the "handicapped" get. I was the first on and off the plane, I was escorted by airline personnel. Speaking was not a requirement for me. In other words, the optimum conditions existed for a physically impaired person such as myself.
What has changed flying travel for me from a fairly pleasant experience to a white-knuckled journey in terror?
What has transpired in air travel to make me regard passenger planes as nothing but 200+ human beings strapped to tanks of highly explosive jet fuel?
It wasn't Malaysian 371 (Although it's complete disappearance didn't help matters) that soured it for me.
What now compels me to mentally count all the bodies as they file past my seat? As the passengers keep going by my fear increases exponentially!
Next to the MRI (Brrrrr!) only an airplane comes close to my irrational, overwhelming fear of being buried alive!
As we left the tarmac I glanced at some of the other :"handicapped" passengers seated across from me. One couple in particular held my attention, They had obviously filled out all the same forms we did because they availed themselves of all the services available. It turns out they weren't "disabled" at all, they just didn't feel like walking! I know because I asked. I had to!
And they weren't the only ones! Apparently, this flight abounded with able-bodied passengers that had claimed handicapped status.in order to avoid self-movement at the airport. We saw them hanging out by the gate for hours! I devote most of my energy towards moving forward. Allowing myself to be pushed in any circumstance is counter-intuitive for me. Actually requesting "handicapped" status for me indicates I'm suffering from a profound disability The people across the aisle? They were embarrassed, sheepish, even. And able to walk.
The only thing I hate more than my wheelchair? A random "loaner" wheelchair, You've seen them, at hotels, hospitals. Where were these "walkers" (As in, people that can actually walk) seated? All, except for me were lined up at the gate in airline loaner chairs waiting to get pushed! I judge nothing and nobody. In my view, everyone is doing the best they can. However,if someone is going to all of the trouble to get a handicapped placard for their car (or check off the disabled box with a straight face) it seems to me you'd need to be fairly handicapped, or, at least, somewhat impaired
I don't really understand why flying now terrifies me and I'm not sure it matters. It does and I'll deal with it. What I understand is that as soon as I don't need any assistance I won't accept any. "Fear of Flying" makes me even more determined to stroll through airports, to saunter into terminals, I'll be planning a big airport hike where I skip through several airports in succession..
Chef Kevin Warren, husband to my goddaughter, is a big strapping healthy gym-work out robust wise and courageous gentleman in his 30s. He won't get on a plane for similar reasons, passed up a gourmet tour of India's culinary highlights. And Ray Bradbury refused to drive a car, actually for similar reasons, but let others drive him.
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