On the Road Again (Again)

My husband and I woke up early last Thursday morning, puttered around the apartment, and took a cab to the airport. Several smooth hours later, we landed in Boston. Next was a drive to New Hampshire, where we visited friends for the weekend, going to Maine both Saturday and Sunday. Monday we spent in Boston; Tuesday, we flew back to Toronto. In most ways, it was a short and satisfying trip. In terms of accessibility stuff, though, it was kind of frustrating.

I hesitate to write about what went wrong because lots of things went right, and I don’t want to give the impression that I’m not grateful for having progressed to the point where travel is even a possibility. I am grateful: to myself, to my husband, to my support system. I’m grateful to have friends I really, really wanted to see IRL ASAP. I’m grateful to have the financial privilege necessary to scratch that itch.

I’m grateful for the independence I’ve reclaimed upon returning to Canada.

Being the person I am, I feel the need to again emphasize that many aspects of this trip were great. Indeed, that we made it happen in the first place was a victory of sorts. We last saw these friends in February, when they made the trek to Toronto. I remember saying at the time that it wouldn’t be long before it’d be us visiting them. I meant it but didn’t really believe it, if that makes sense, but make it happen we did, and they were generous hosts who went out of their way to show us New England.

And following through on this well-intentioned promise wasn’t an anxiety-provoking process, nor was it a stretch of my physical or emotional capabilities. Remarkably, I only started panicking twelve or so hours before we departed, and this panic was—wait for it—about the fact that I wasn’t panicking (trying to interpret the workings of my psychology would be nothing if not an exercise in futility, so I won’t even try). Until then, I was excited about the trip but too busy to think about it much. Yay for being distracted by a fulfilling life! I did all the logistical stuff I needed to: no more, no less. I made the fun plans, did all the accessibility checks I could, and packed a bag. It didn’t occur to me to worry that I’d forget something or that some emergency would force us to stay home.

My brain of a year ago would be horrified. My brain of today is super proud.

I didn’t forget anything, and no emergency arose. Those accessibility-related issues did, however, mar the experience. Even though my husband was incredibly considerate, and even though we struck a good balance between me self-propelling when possible and him pushing me when the terrain didn’t allow me to operate my chair myself, having to bring my manual chair was more challenging than I anticipated it would be. Compounding this annoyance, the ADA doesn’t include requirements for automatic door openers as the accessibility laws here in Ontario do. As a result, I was forced to rely on my partner in life and in travel to help me enter and exit our “accessible” hotel room. In short, I felt my lack of independence really hard, and that feeling was very much not good. If I conduct my usual search for a silver lining, the only one I can easily find is that having been deprived of autonomy makes me appreciate my near-total independence at home more than ever, which is saying something since my typical day is frequently interrupted by my internal egotistical cheerleader rahing “LOOK AT YOU GO, GIRL!” in my head.

In yet another attempt to avoid making it sound as if I’m not happy we went, I will once more list a few highlights. Reuniting with friends was a huge one, as was exploring Maine for the first time. I toured the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, where there was a special exhibit of the works of Georgia O’Keeffe and Henry Moore, two of my favourite artists. It was an impressive exhibition that I won’t soon forget (the rest of the museum was also incredible). There were accessibility/health wins, too. The airline we used was awesome, and my increased strength and stamina meant that I didn’t require the rest breaks I needed even in August, when we last travelled.

Still, one of the biggest highlights of all was my relief upon easing back into my life in Toronto, a life I’ve worked hard to build and that I love and treasure. Five minutes after we were dropped off at our building, I hopped on my power chair, let myself out using the magic of an automatic door opener, and went for a ride. It was raining and a little chilly, but what did I care? I was out by myself, and it was glorious.

With this heightened awareness of what impedes my ability to fully enjoy venturing outside my city, I’m looking into purchasing a travel power chair before my next trip. Until then, I’ll keep racking up kilometres and listening to that voice in my head cheering me on. Rah!