“Hey Dave, remember when we watched the Colbert Show a few weeks ago and Elton John was on?” I ask my husband.
“Sure, Laurie. What about it?”
“Remember I said I'd really like to hear him play. Live.”
“Yeh. So?”
“Well, he's playing in Las Vegas in a couple of months.”
“You want to go? It's too far to drive. We'd have to fly.”
“Yes, I know.” Dave's in a wheelchair and flying creates a lot of anxiety and hassle. And he's never very enthusiastic about leaving the comfort and security of home anyway, even for a short road trip.
“I'm going to look into it.”
“Okay. You do that.”
His lack of a direct “No” was as good as a “Go ahead” as far as I'm concerned. One learns to interpret.
We have never been to Vegas; it has always seemed so tawdry. So I start my research by asking friends what they liked about it and where they stayed. I look for other shows we could see while there, and if there are ADA hikes in the area. Preparing a proposal for Dave, I suggest we see Penn and Teller and Jim Jefferies, a comedian we enjoy, while we're there. To sweeten the deal I add, “We'll be there for on our anniversary. This will be our gift to ourselves.” The fingers of my right hand are crossed behind my back for luck.
“Have you checked to make sure the seating is accessible?”
“Of course, and I've looked at the seating charts. There are still good seats available.” I'm trying not to hold my breath.
“Since it's our anniversary, I think you should buy the tickets before they're sold out.”
Yes! “I'll get the tickets and then I'll look into hotels. ADA taxi service looks good in town, but I'd like to take a couple of days to see the surrounding area. Red Rock Canyon looks inviting and there are lots of interesting drives is the area. Would you please look into an accessible van? Best to get that reserved as soon as possible.” And get you invested in the trip.
First, I order the Elton John tickets and put the date on the calendar. Then come the Jim Jefferies tickets, and last but not least the Penn and Teller show. I smile to myself as I add them to the calendar. I love planning trips.
Having events on the calendar helps remind me there is more to life than just our boring daily routine. I enjoy putting special events on the calendar and we go out to concerts once or twice a month. I find that if the tickets are prepaid, we are a lot less likely to back out for some reason or another.
During the two months of waiting to go to Vegas, I buy some new clothes. I don't want to wear practical Seattle fleece to flashy Las Vegas. I love my new shoes, both stylish and comfortable for walking, and a sweater with a black and white geometric pattern, unlike anything I've worn before. I try to get Dave to buy new pants; he really needs some, but I fail.
Finally, turning the calendar, there it is, less than two weeks away. I have butterflies in my stomach. Dave and I go over our notes from past trips and make a new to-do list specific for this trip. We carefully prepare our onboard luggage with all of his medical equipment. And don't forget the battery charger for his chair. I call the airline to reconfirm that we need an aisle chair and Dave will need help transferring.
I practice quickly preparing his heavy power chair to be loaded into cargo. To avoid the possibility of having my tools confiscated by security, I velcro the tool kit under the chair seat. I have a florescent pink sign ready to tape to the back of the chair when it's folded down that says, “Caution! 375 pounds. Get help.” I call my sister to remind her to pick us up Tuesday.
I don't sleep well Monday night and am relieved when the radio alarm starts playing. Dave and I are ready and waiting when my sister shows up and we load our suitcases, packed last night of course, into her car. Twenty minutes later we hug her goodbye and walk into the airport.
I'm excited to be here, but my stomach is tied in knots. We are so close, and I know I'll feel better when we're in our seats. Luggage checked, a TSA agent takes us aside and we walk to a booth where he calls a special agent who will take care of Dave because he can't walk through the Xray gate. It takes so long for the agent to show up my palms are damp and my mouth is dry. What if we miss our flight? We're finally released and make it to our gate just in time for preloading.
As Dave is taken aboard, my sweaty hands quickly prepare his chair to be taken away. A flight attended comes off the plane saying, “Your husband tells me the arm of the seat swings down so he can slide over from the transport chair.”
“Yes, it does,” I respond.
“Do you know how to do it?”
“No, I don't. But you can look it up on your phone. That's what the attendant did the last time we flew.”
“This plane must be a different model,” she replies.
“Nope, my husband was a Boeing engineer and he always knows which model we fly on. This is the same as all the other times we've flown Alaska.”
She finally leaves so I can get back to working on the wheelchair. My hands are trembling when I finally plop down next to Dave.
He gives me a big grin and says, “We made it.”
Nodding, I say, “We've done everything within our power to make this trip a success. If your chair arrives in Vegas undamaged, I'll consider this vacation to be 'All systems go'.”
Luck is with us. The chair is fine when we receive it in Las Vegas and our long-anticipated vacation can begin.
Author: Laura Nicol
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