Orlando Airport

Every year in July I fly down to Orlando to help run a martial arts tournament with the USBA/WBA Breaking Team.  They're pretty much the best team of people ever, and they're wonderfully kind to me.  Well, last year, like normal, they are flying me down to run this tournament, but I'm still not in the best of physical conditions after hip surgery.  My surgery had been in April, and as I was off crutches for average everyday walking, I was concerned that at the distances I'd be needing to walk at the resort and at the tournament my hip would give way.  So, here I am with crutches in tow.


My mom drops me off at the airport in Columbus and I check my bag and move slowly with a large, bulky, yet wonderfully fashionable carry-on from Victoria's Secret.  It's a white duffel-esque bag that is large enough to fit a 5 year old inside with his or her favorite teddy bear. It goes over the shoulder or has two handles for those who prefer to carry their bags by hand and look cool.  I, however, had the bag on my butt, slung over the shoulder, and my crutches were hitting it every step of the way.  It was miserable!  I boarded the plane and got to Orlando without incident.  From Orlando I decided against walking myself, as I had to get my checked bag to take the the resort, so I used a wheelchair service to get downstairs and get to the shuttle.  The people at the airport that push you in the wheelchairs do NOT want to wait in line with you under any circumstance, and as it's mandatory that you wait in line to get your stupid pass to the Disney shuttle, the attendee was frustrated and anxious.  He eventually dropped me off at the shuttle waiting area and hurried along to his next tip-bearing cripple.


Being at Disney was just fine and I managed to get around quite well given my condition.  The resort was very understanding and worked with me to ensure I was as close as possible to the convention center.  Being at a martial arts tournament on crutches gets you some strange looks, but the people there presume you're badass enough to beat them to death with your crutches.


On the way home to Columbus my trip was not so pleasant.  I was desperately tired and my body was in pain.  I boarded the shuttle in the sweltering heat of the Orlando July, and 30 minutes later arrived at the airport where I went to check in and check my bag.  I was provided with a wheelchair instantly when departing the shuttle as the gentleman driving the bus had radioed ahead that I was gimp-tastic.  The gentleman pushing my chair to the check area left me and another man took over to get me through the check point to my gate.  This second man was totally creepy.  These guys wear little radios to be directed to where they need to pick up another wheelchair-bound guest, and when they don't respond to the man speaking in a foreign language through their walkie-talkies they get in trouble.  So, the foreign man was yelling at my "driver" and he said to me "excuse me, I need to take this page and make a call to him."  I didn't think much of it, but we had just exited the elevator and we were in the main thoroughfare of the airport where people go from the gates to get their baggage.  So, here I am with the driver and suddenly he stops and runs off to my left.  HE LEFT ME IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WALKWAY.


I'm sitting in this chair clutching my crutches and he's left my carry-on behind me.  I can't get to it to scoot myself along so I can get to the gate myself.  So all these people are passing me by looking at me like I'm a lost child or unattended baggage.  Or maybe they're looking at me like "bitch, get out of the way!"  I couldn't tell, but what I did know was that I wanted to go home.  So, in the midst of all this chaos, I called my mom.  I told her I had been stranded in the middle of an aisle by a man that spoke no discernible English and that I wanted her to come get me right now before I started crying.  She's talking to me like mom's do and calms me down, meanwhile the awkward glances are only increasing because now I'm not only in the way, but I'm in the way on my cell phone.


Finally 10 minutes or so goes by and the driver of my wheelchair shows back up and literally says "I'm not waiting with you through the gate, someone else will come get you if you need them."  At this point I was about through with trying to ease the pain and burden on my hip, so I just told the guy to get me to the checkpoint and I'd do the rest myself.  Of course my crutches can't go with me through the gate, so I have to let them get scanned, then go through the metal detector, then go through the metal detector with metal crutches.  Well, the scanner goes off (obviously) with my metal crutches, so they take me to the side and try it again and scan my very obviously metal crutches AGAIN, then they checked my hands for explosives.  Yes, like I'm going to have explosive crutch material on my hands they swabbed me down.  I hobbled down to my gate, which was the one farthest away from everything and sat down.  Then our gate got switched.  I picked up my goods and walked about 5 minutes away to the new gate we would be using.  As I'm approaching my gate a different guy pushing a wheelchair tries to scoop me up and help me out, but I was out of cash and I don't want your help now as I'm like, 5 feet from where I need to be!  He was displeased that I didn't want his services.


It has come to my attention that I'm going to be flying on crutches again, but this time I'll be coming home from Colorado after surgery.  Hopefully they are a little more helpful in the wheelchair department and they don't leave me awkwardly placed in the middle of a very, very busy walkway.


So the moral of this story:  If you have to travel with crutches, bring cash and patience.