There are a few things I wish someone had handed me early in life:

📝 A how-to guide on being paralyzed with style
📉 A manual on avoiding airport catastrophe
🎁 And maybe a coupon for lifetime bubble wrap

I didn’t know what I didn’t know—until I learned the hard way. And by hard, I mean metal-on-metal-cargo-hold hard.

As a full-time wheelchair user paralyzed from the chest down (with limited arm movement), I’ve been through the “congrats-your-chair-is-now-art-supplies” phase of air travel way too many times.

Over the years, I’ve worked with engineers, wheelchair techs, caregivers, and fellow flying wheelchair warriors to build what I call my Cirque du Soleil of chair loading. It’s a high-stakes dance starring my caregiver and some very expensive hardware.

🎥 The video below? It’s part choreography, part survival ritual.

THE ONE PROBLEM 😬

Even with all that prep? There’s still a 50/50 chance something breaks. Why?

Because when you hand off your $40,000 mobility device to a rushed, under-trained (no fault of their own), third-party ground crew, it’s basically a high-stakes trust fall—with no safety net. So I made my own net.

MY FLYING RULES FOR WHEELCHAIR SURVIVAL 💼🛠️📄

🧠 Talk to the ops crew before boarding. I walk them through exactly how my chair needs to be handled—especially if the plane has a smaller cargo hold.


👨‍✈️ Speak to the captain directly. I give them a printed letter with my photo and loading instructions, and kindly let them know my wheelchair is… well, my legs. Nine times out of ten, they radio ahead to make sure the ground crew is ready.

👀 Verify before anyone leaves. Once I deplane, I don’t let a single staff member walk away until my chair is reassembled and inspected. Multiple eyes, multiple angles. Trust, but verify.


THE BIGGER PROBLEM 🧱

The truth is: this isn’t just a me problem. It’s a systemic issue—one caused by lack of training, patchwork communication, and the outsourcing of accountability. Many of the folks handling these chairs are doing their best with zero formal guidance. That’s not their fault. But it is our collective responsibility to fix it.

There are ongoing efforts and legislative pushes many of us in the disability community are working

on—but that’s a post for another day.

WHY I’M SHARING THIS 🎯

I wanted to give you a behind-the-scenes look at what actually happens before I even get on a plane. A few weeks ago, I shared what it takes to be lifted and transferred onto an aircraft—but prepping my chair is an entirely different adventure.

This isn’t just a disability story. It’s a logistics story. It’s a leadership story. It’s a human design story.

And it’s one I’ll keep telling—until trust falls are optional, not necessary.

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