February 27

We left for DC Friday evening because our flight left at 6:30 am Saturday morning. We stayed at a hotel just minutes away from the airport, so it was perfect. When Dusty and his family checked in, I wasn't with them, so they made the assumption that they didn't actually need a handicapped room and changed it without us knowing until we got to the room and realized it wasn't going to work. They were so apologetic, but it made me wonder if people actually do that... I'll admit that I'm guilty of using the handicap parking spaces thinking "I'll only be a minute..." What I didn't realize is how much that may affect someone who actually needs it. Everyone around me has been made more aware of the necessity of all things labeled "handicap" and especially those things that lack that label when they should have it. It's something we run into all the time. I'll tell you about our day of travel and you'll understand...

Our taxi got to the hotel at 4:15, needless to say, we didn't get much sleep. Things went fairly smooth in the morning, though, and I rode on my first handicap taxi. I was surprised at how easy it was. There was a ramp in the back and I wheeled up it no problem. We waited in line to check in, but that was pretty much the only line we waited in. JetBlue was so good to us! We got moved to the front of the line at security (ALL 7 of us). 

 I was first on the plane for our trip from DC to Florida. Dusty transferred me to this little tiny aisle chair. It was barely big enough for my behind! They fastened straps around my shoulders, waist, and two down my legs. I don't know how anyone bigger than me gets down the aisle in that chair...the space between the seats on the plane is so narrow, I'm surprised my thighs even fit through!

They actually had my regular wheelchair waiting for us when we landed in Florida. And one of the JetBlue employees wheeled me all the way to our next gate. She even made sure the whole family was together (bathroom breaks and all).

The next flight was a little longer. They warned us that Punta Cana would use some sort of elevator to get me off the plane since they don't really pull up to the terminal, they use one of those moveable flights of stairs. It was just our luck that the elevator contraption was broke when we landed. Dusty had even said he didn't have a good feeling about it when we were landing and I said "why, because the airport looks like a straw hut?" Haha. They used a similar aisle chair as the US, but of course, there were only shoulder straps so I was practically falling out. Then, no lie, FIVE men carried me down the flight of stairs like an Egyptian princess. It was hysterical. You couldn't help but laugh. I wish there was a video! 

One of the men that helped me off the plane stayed with us, got our baggage, let us skip the customs line (!!!), and helped us find our shuttle. Dusty has never been out of the country, so he had no idea what a disaster the customs line can be. Luckily, he didn't have to experience it. The employee took us all the way to the front, past hundreds of people and probably a few hour wait. 

The shuttle to the resort was another adventure (and the driver was no Herb!) Dusty had called repeatedly to make sure everything was handicap accessible, but that has a different meaning around here. It would've made my parents and therapists cringe, but Dusty and his brother got me into the shuttle...we'll leave it at that haha. 

The resort suite was also supposed to be okay with the wheelchair, but surprise, it wasn't. My loaner wheelchair is literally half an inch too big for the bathroom doorway. The first night and day here were... Interesting.  But Dusty's cousin just found a wheelchair that fits in the bathroom, so showering and getting ready will definitely go better this evening!