Fly away with me: let's (legally!) break all the rules to survive your flight (Part 3)
Including a new tip I *just* learned that's too good to gatekeep
Airports: loud, bright, crowded, confusing, sprawling—and then they take away your safe drinks and snacks. Does anyone like them, sick or not?
If you’ve ever gaslit yourself with an “I’m fiiiiiine” while crawling to the gate like a dehydrated Smeagol, then allow me to gently rock your travel world. First, let’s start with Is it Time to Try An Airport Wheelchair? Because yes, yes it probably is.
And if it’s not, some wheelchair-free tips below! (But not all of them, bc srsly, wheelchair is the ultimate travel hack for disabled peeps and MEeps.)
1. Start with a good seat.
Book a seat to your preferences when you check out. (This may seem obvious, but airlines often bury the link in the checkout—use it!!) This may mean you pay a little more.
My rules:
Always pay a little extra. It’s $12-26 more on most flights to get premium seating, closer to the door with a little extra leg room. While this may sound extravagant, I don’t think you can put a price on your sanity. BOOK IT.
Always book a seat in an empty row. Because having a row to yourself means you get a window seat AND an aisle seat AND multiple ways to sprawl out.
While I *love* seeing the window views (and get motion sick if someone closes the shade) I go for the aisle seat on the left side of the plane…that lets my worse shoulder avoid jostles and my frequent bathroom trips leave other travelers undisturbed.
I never book the very first row (behind first class), because there’s no underseat storage. I haven’t a prayer of accessing the overhead bin throughout the flight for all my comfort items, so I need that seat in front of me’s understorage.
2. Then…ditch that seat at the gate.
Your beautiful whole row seat plan will probably fall apart by check-in. When you get to the gate, ask the agent if there’s any possibility of switching to a whole row near the front of the plane. (Just pass if it’s the first row.)
(This is where it really helps to arrive in the wheelchair, signaling that travel is already a trial for you. Plus, you usually have to talk to them anyway to coordinate the next agent to walk you down the jetway.)
Does asking sound scary to you? Then I dare you to do it. Chronic illness is one giant lesson in asking for what you need. Try it. You never have to see that agent again (probably.) The stakes could not be lower. Seriously.
Script: “I was wondering if there was any chance of moving my seat to an open row? No worries if not, it would just be appreciated!”
ALSO: be extra nice to gate agents. My brother is a gate agent. Travelers are nasty at the airport and gate agents take a good brunt. Most agents love a chance to make someone’s day better in a world where they’re usually juggling sheer chaos and disappointment. A little kindness goes a long, long way.
3. Check in EXACTLY 24 hours early to unlock upgrades.
I’ve never bothered checking in until right before flight…until this last trip. The instant the email appeared in my inbox, I almost ignored it, but by some divine intervention, Googled early check in. Supposedly, early check-in unlocks upgrade priority. Scoffing skeptically, I checked in within a few minutes of receiving the email because sure okay why not.
Lo and behold, who was tucking into a whole-row (okay, of one, but still) first class seat upgrade 23 hours later? Heyo.
From here on out, I’m setting an alarm 24 hours ahead of flight time and checking in as soon as I get that email.
4. Bring an emotional support human through security. No, really. Even if they aren’t flying.
Did you know your non-flying loved one can come with you to the gate? NEITHER DID I. My sister insisted I try this, it looked like a pain in the ass online (website said it could take 2 hours to get a gate pass WTF?), and I almost didn’t ask.
But I did. Because as usual, the lesson in chronic illness is, ask and ye shall receive. My Mom provided her Real ID (necessary), and in approximately three and a half minutes, she had a ticket to take me through security and hang out.
It’s called a companion pass or gate escort or gate pass or family escort, depending on the day. My Mom was my whatever-you-call-it, but she has a different last name than me and no one made us prove relations, so guessing you could recruit a non-related friend.
Hugely helpful—and I got an extra 90m with my Mom. The usual airport wheelchair pushers range from adequate to good, but nothing beats somebody close who will indulge your every preflight craving and extensive bathroom routine with maximum giggles.
And if there’s no one you feel you can trust to take you through the airport yet…THAT’S UNDERSTANDABLE. It took me years to work up the nerve to ask for help like this, from anyone, including said mother. And in some cases, to make the kinds of friends who’d say yes. I’ll get into community building soon, promise.
5. Flying solo? Here’s how to use the airport wheelchair on your own
Never swung an airport wheelchair? Here’s what you’re gonna do once you’ve booked it (see how here).
Ideally, have a good friend or family drop you off. If they can, have them grab the nearest wheelchair near the car (they’re everywhere) and get you to the gate, where you’ll tell them you need more wheelchairage.
If they want you to wait in the corral, CHECK INTO THE CORRAL FIRST, and then do a bathroom run (yes, you can ask them to take you). I hate the corral and always feel trapped there…it’s kind of a purgatory where they decide your fate on when the pusher comes to take you away. I’ve had good luck telling them I needed to get through security sooner because of bathroom issues (which at the time were…frequent, to say the least.)
If they haven’t gotten you out of there in 30 minutes, use the time to report them for an Americans With Disabilities Air Carrier Act violation. (With a polite warning, of course!) Don’t feel bad. They are breaking the law.
My hometown airport is tiny, so we can park super close and a friend or my partner can walk me to the gate. If your airport is not and you’re totally alone, my understanding is that if you call the airline they will bring the wheelchair to you. TBH, I haven’t tried this, but would love to hear if anyone has!
6. The airport wheelchair puts you in the fast lane
Look. There are a few perks to being disabled that IN NO WAY even remotely make up for the rest of the experience. But we take them where we can, because three perks is better than no perks.
Here’s one: if you’re on that heavy-ass adult stroller known as an airport wheelchair, then you get to go through the fast lane in security whether you have TSA PreCheck or not. And this can be a lifesaver when the hustle and bustle of security is an overwhelming claustrophobic nightmare.
If your pusher tries to take you through the regular line, they’re new. Sometimes, a more seasoned employee will redirect them. If they don’t, venture a “Hey! I think we’re allowed through the expedited lane?” And then smize bc of course you’re wearing a mask, right?
If you’ve looped in your family escort companion gate pass pusher, just head down the shortest express line. There may even be a little wheelchair sign on it. Someone will redirect you if you’re a) in the wrong spot and b) it remotely matters (which honestly, it usually doesn’t.)
7. You aren’t cargo—you get a bathroom and store stop with your free ride
The point of wheelchairs is to provide disabled people with an equal airport experience to everyone else. Meaning, yes, your wheelchair pusher will have no problem dropping you off at the bathroom and watching your stuff (multiple times, if needed), or cruising you into a little shop to buy snacks, magazines, and water for in flight.
One weird trick: Skip the Nalgene and buy a bottled water brand you tolerate. I used to keep it environmental and just refill, but airports are notorious for moldy water lines. You might not taste it, but you’ll feel it when you show up. If you haven’t identified a brand yet, watch out for waters that have weird added minerals.
8. Stuff your pockets (and bra, if you have one) with dollar bills
Is this an unfair disability tax? Yes. Do I tip pushers anyway? Also yes. Because brain fog, I usually can’t find my wallet, so I just stuff a bunch of dollars everywhere I can reach, including my bra.
9. Get this cushion—as a backrest, buttrest, whatever you need
The Klymit inflatable cushion is a sickie must. (NON-affiliate Amazon link for cheapness, but buy wherever suits your values.) It weighs virtually nothing, rolls up without much effort to the size of a small wallet, and realllllly rounds out everything from the odd shape of airline seats to a hard airline wheelchair.
It’s so cheap I own 5. (Partly bc I keep throwing mine down in nettles, oops.) I use mine in non-travel life ALL the time.
The airport may be a nightmare, but with a few tricks, we can at least turn it into an acceptable daydream.
The Full Fly Away With Me Lineup!
Flying with Fatigue Part Zero: Why Even Bother Traveling When You’re So Unwell? (Because we’re still ALIVE goddammit and sometimes you just want to hog a whole new bathroom) COMING SOON
Flying With Fatigue Part One: Maybe you CAN travel with a severe chronic illness...for free, even? You can’t travel like you used to—but you CAN hop a plane (probably)—here’s how.
Flying with Fatigue Part Two: Is it time to try an airport wheelchair? Here’s how. There’s a reason able-bodied people don’t walk to the airport, and it’s not that they “can’t”
Flying with Fatigue Part Four: How to Have A Good Time Away From Home When Your Body Hates It And it’s gonna hate it but there are ways to reduce that to a survivable level of dislike COMING SOON
Let’s get you out there if we can/you want. It’s hard, it won’t be like you used to, but I still think it’s very, very worth it.
What’s your in-airport hack?
Don’t hold out on us now. Maybe you know something I don’t?
Make sure to pack a Meatscon!
I use mine as a handy-dandy screenshot. Confession: I can never remember what my numbers mean (brain fog!), so I keep it on my phone for quick reference. It jogs my memory into what usually works at times like these.
Substack is just the nicest.
In the spirit of letting good things happen, I gleefully accept decaf Americanos at Venmo kira-stoops, any payment you like on the Meatscon, and useful gifts here.
PS. Because we could all use a break right now:
• Get $100 when you open a new Ally account using this link. (It’s my friend Amy’s over at the Tonic, so she’ll get $50! Also, subscribe to her if you haven’t already.) This one’s my fave for the buckets feature, which works very well for my apparently bucket-y brain.
• Take $60 off an Electric Liberty Trike like mine with this link (I think it gives me $60, too?) For the cheapest deal, get the “Classic” (aka, old, aka, mine) model or a refurb. I gotta do a post about how good this thing is for low-stamina folks like me!
• Take $10 off Instacart (and give me $10 too!) with this code: KSTOOPS109C5. (My hot tip for good Instacart service: tip above 15%!)
As usual you have the best tips and stories! Thank you and safe travels!!
Crawling to the gate like a dehydrated Sméagol. Oh Kira! Thanks for sharing your humor!