I know, I know: I haven’t blogged in days. We made it home from Galapagos without any major flight disruptions, but the two days of airports and travel led to a lovely fibro-flare (on top of the cold I already had,) and then I spent most of last night throwing up (not fibro-related.) So, you know, I’ve been busy.
I’m still not sure why I can hike up a volcano at high altitude but not manage two days of travel through airports. By the end of the second flight, though, my legs were painful and shaky; and we were in MIA again, which is miles of walking from one terminal to another. I told Mr. December to request wheelchair assistance for our next flight.
That’s where our travel went downhill: apparently, wheelchairs are commonly M.I.A. at MIA. Surprised? I’m not. We waited an hour for a wheelchair, despite the fact that there were forty or fifty of them not far away—apparently they’re owned by private companies and you have to wait for an attendant to push you the whole way. I’m not saying that’s an inefficient way to do things, but don’t you think it would be better if you could just rent a wheelchair the way you rent a luggage cart, and return it at the gate?
I really need to get over myself and the perceived awkwardness, and request a wheelchair before I start feeling crappy, as a preventative measure. I don’t have to be wincing in pain and limping in order to use a chair, I know, but somehow it feels like I do. When I got out of the wheelchair at the curb in Toronto, Mr. December chided me:
“You can’t just get up and walk away like that! You have to wait for me to shout, ‘BEGONE, ACCURSED DEMONS! I CAST YOU OUT IN THE NAME OF JEBUS! ARISE AND WALK! JEBUS HEALS YOU!’ “
I think that illustrates the problem nicely: we (as a society) still have a perception that if you get up from a wheelchair and start to walk, you were faking. So if I, feeling perfectly fine, walk up to a chair and get in… and then get up at the other end of the building and walk away, still feeling fine… did I really need that chair?
Yes, I did. I can say that because I didn’t take the chair from the outset, and I’m still suffering the consequences. My brain is foggy, my limbs are heavy, and all I want to do is go back to bed. I don’t even have the wherewithal to edit this post—sorry bout that.