“I wish I had the money to pay my way past the lines in security,” I once heard a snarky lady comment as my family trouped through the frequent flyer line at the PDX airport when I was a kid. My thirteen or fourteen year old self wanted to turn around and tell her we didn’t fork out cash for this privilege but rather I’d paid with years of my life spent having my dad fly across the country each week and spend only the weekends with me and that this was hardly fair compensation that on our single week together as a family we got to cut a security line before flying to whatever destination we had where my dad also had business meetings to go to but we called it a vacation.
People don’t often realize certain travel perks received are just as often flimsy compensation for crappy life circumstances as they are the purchased privilege of the upper class. I’d happily trade my inability to walk for the privilege of standing in a two hour line, trust me. Unfortunately, I just don’t have that capacity any more, and this week of travel, while amazing, was completely exhausting – and that includes those compensations of cutting occasional lines.
I’m a perpetually joyful person – and that’s honestly a huge gift. I try to write here about the celebrations of all that I can accomplish despite my paralysis, and I want to highlight all the good that has come in my long recovery process. However, I can’t gloss over or erase the fact that it’s a long and painful process. I am super grateful that because of my disability classification, travel by train is much more affordable since a companion can ride with me completely free. The German railway is also very helpful in providing a lift on and off the train at each stop on my reserved route. Last weekend’s trip to Erfurt was amazing as my parents and I traveled by train and then discovered our hotel was right across the street from the handicapped accessible tram that could take us right into the old town where we got to visit the Augustinian monastery, and I managed to park my wheelchair and take a few steps in my braces around the courtyard holding on to a ledge built hundreds of years ago where many other people have come to pray. Unfortunately, there was still a lot of maneuvering to get me to that place as my parents had to drudge along some moveable ramps provided by the facility to get me up and down the one or two step level changes throughout the building.
Coming back on Monday, I was already exhausted and wary about the flight and four days in Barcelona I had after we repacked our bags. Fortunately, the handicapped assistance crew and Easy Jet team were incredibly helpful and patient as they pushed me to the front of the necessary lines, and I chose to ignore any derisive stares as I wheeled past people who saw me getting to sit on my butt while someone moved me in front of them. I know my story is more complex than most people give me credit for as I wheel past them never to have a place in their life other than a line cutter.
After an hour delay on our flight, I was more than ready to crash at the hotel in Barcelona, and I had a momentary panic when the front desk didn’t seem to know we’d require a handicap room despite the request made online when booking and having called ahead the week before to confirm. Praise God, it worked out, and the accessible bathroom was wonderful. I slept well, but was already in serious spoon debt as we headed out to visit Park Güell in the late morning. I enjoyed the artistic architecture, but I was done for the day after barely a couple hours. In fact, my body made that painfully clear with a massively upset stomach in addition to the muscle aches and overall exhaustion.
I’m glad I didn’t push myself any further because the next day, while amazing, was incredibly draining for me. My mom had planned a trip out to visit the ancient Montserrat monastery which is about 1000 years old. It was a half hour cab ride to a train station where we waited another half hour to ride the train for an hour to make a transfer to another half hour train before arriving in the incredible hide away. I’m so glad I had the opportunity to visit, but it was certainly not easy for me to be jostled about up and down cobblestoned hills after hours of being jostled about on public transportation. Most people think being pushed around in the wheelchair must not be that difficult because all I’m doing is sitting, but that doesn’t adequately account for the discomfort of uneven surfaces that even the best eye can’t catch from up above that I can see coming and have to fight with the person holding my handles to avoid. Nor does it account for the toll constant cobblestone vibrations have on the chronic aching I already endure in my lower back or the spasms it triggers in my legs. Nor does it consider the psychological energy expended to put my life in someone’s hands as they blithely push me on various inclines and surfaces that I know could potentially lead to me being tossed out of my chair by accident. (As most of you know, I’ve only ever been dumped out of my chair once which ultimately led to a hilarious story and the coining of the term “pulling a Mr. Bryan” in reference to the potential of me being launched from my chair, but the unlikelihood of ending up on the pavement doesn’t diminish the mental exhaustion I still endure having anyone take control of moving my body from one place to another.) I don’t regret the decision to see the magnificent buildings and beautiful nature surrounding them at Montserrat, but it took a huge load of energy that I was already borrowing from days in advance.
I slept well Wednesday night and mustered up the strength for the visit to the Sagrada Familia a couple blocks away from our hotel. Everyone I know who had visited before said it was amazing, and it definitely lives up to the magnificence of the pictures. The basilica has been under construction for 135 years and is still about a decade away from the projected finish date. During the century of progress, adaptations were made to make the beautiful church accessible to wheelchairs. Despite seeing only one at all in the two previous days, I saw about a dozen milling about in and around the church. There were smooth floors and ramps where needed, and I really enjoyed the chance to celebrate the creative Creator in the church inspired by designs in nature. I had a few well spent hours there before returning to the hotel to rest up and recover some energy before our early evening flight on Friday.
Yesterday I woke up with just enough energy to get in a cab with my parents and spend half an hour walking along the Mediterranean beach before returning to the hotel to keep my feet up until we needed to leave for the airport. I snapped the shot above of my parents taking in the view of the sea before we headed back. Living in Europe is such a gift because I’m just a couple hours of travel away from these amazing places. The distance I travelled to Barcelona is akin to my Portland friends hopping on a plane to San Diego, and Erfurt is half that distance. Despite the relative closeness, they were both huge trips for me as I managed new cities in my wheelchair, and I’m so grateful for the “perks” that come along with the wheelchair which really just make travel at all possible for me.
I didn’t have any miraculous moments in any of the holy sites we stopped in, but I’m not giving up on miracles, and this morning I managed to walk without my braces all the way from my house down to the bridge by BFA. I walked down there with Ellie, the recent graduate who was the first student I met when I moved to Kandern. When I stopped at the bridge and told her I needed to sit in my chair for her to push me home, she told me when she comes back to visit at graduation next year, she’s planning another brace free walk with me where we reach the second bridge at least – a full kilometer from my house rather than the 300 meters I made it today. Please keep praying with me for many miracles to report along the way to that goal. It’s likely going to be painful for me, but I won’t give up.
