Flying with a 6 year Old and a Set of Crutches…. REALLY?

So I did it ! Not in the cool comfortable style of young urban hipster, but in the aging mom with a 6-year-old and crutches type of flying. OK, it was worth every effort that me and my family had to put into the trip but I would not volunteer to do this again. Things went down hill quick at my last Dr appointment on 31st of Oct. The Dr said he would remove the stitches and give me my walking cast at this appointment  and that did not happen. It left me broken-hearted.

As this photo shows, I traveled from Pittsburgh PA to St Louis MS with an Ace bandage, splint and a set of crutches . I had already bought my reservations and car rental when I found out that I was not going to get my walking cast. I left the Dr office thinking I would reschedule my trip, even if this was my birthday trip.I would just wait until the crutches were gone before I traveled. Well with out travel insurance the cost to rebook my flight was going to increase my ticket price from $470 for two tickets to about  another $500 dollars, putting my trip in the $1000.00 range with car rental.I just  could not see paying 500 more dollar for a weekend trip.So after talking with my family we rearranged everything so that my husband would drop us off curbside at the airport, my brother would pick us up and drop us off again when I returned home and finally a close friend volunteered to pick us up from Pittsburgh when we arrived home. I would only be responsible for getting a wheelchair to navigate the air ports and getting Christopher through security, boarding and unloading. Believe me, that was enough to worry about while on crutches.

So in the next 24 hours I packed a 6-year-old and myself for a flight across the Mississippi river to see my mom and brother. The curb side drop off is wonderful at Pittsburgh International Airport.The minute a ticket counter gentleman saw me open my door Larry was grabbing a wheel chair to get me checked in. He did everything he could to get me through check in quickly and talked with Christopher in the nicest way. He arranged for a porter to get me through security and did all of my paper work so I could rest comfortably.He put my faith back in the human race… because he didn’t even work for American Airlines.. he was from US Air.

The TSA is actually not to bad for people in wheel chairs. I got to skip the long lines that are the reason we are all at the airport  two hours early.The agents helped Christopher walk through the metal detectors by himself and wait for me on the other side. He was sooooo goood about all of this. They wheeled me through a side door and we waited on a female agent to do a pat down. Yes, I got the dreaded pat down. This was the first time in all the years that I have flown that  I was one of the millions who get the pat down every year. It was not any worse than a police pat down. Really what are people whining about… the ladies from the TSA were polite, clean, and explained everything that they planed to do and were professionals.I was able to perform everything that they needed me to do while sitting (thankfully). I now wonder what all the fuse is over  when someone has to get a pat down… I have been touch more in a crowed train or elevator… really people unless you are hiding something in you underwear this is not a big deal.

I was then taken to my concourse and gate ready to board. Now remember I wanted to fly non-stop because of Christopher. I thought it would be faster and easier on us both to not have connections. That meant I chose to fly a commuter flight. You know the airplanes that have only three seats per row with one single on one side and two seats on the other. Well I am not a small woman and I had completely forgotten how small the loading ramps and aisles are on these small flights. I could not walk with my crutches across the loading ramp or inside the plane, so I hopped to our seats. Christopher needing the window seat was kinda bewildered at the fact that we were all shoeing him ahead of me into the plane.He kept looking back at me with eyes that said where are we going now. I just kept saying “go buddy, go!” until we reached our seats and he was able to get comfortable in the window seat.

This was Christopher’s’ first flight that he actually remembers and it was so funny watching him discover the seats, the lights and A/C and even his seat belt. He was sooooo excited he actually squealed when he realized that we were off the ground and flying above traffic and houses. He was so glad when we were able to get through the clouds and see the bright blue sky above the rain in Pittsburgh.The trip was clam and he played and looked out the window for the next hour and a half.

We landed in St Louis and unloaded last off the plane.Hop hop hop back out off the plain into a wheelchair on the jet way. The crew worked fast and racing me back to the gate and concourse, leaving Christopher to run after us,… scaring us both. Everyone in St Louise was in a hurry and my country bumpkin mind-set was just not ready to race anywhere. Christopher was a little confused too, I needed to make a phone call, we needed a minute to acclimate to the new airport and Christopher needed to get caught up to my wheelchair. Sadly, the next thing I knew we raced down a ramp  and into a long hall at top speed where finally the lady porter asked if Christopher could ride on my chair because he just could not really keep up. “Aaaa Ya, sure just put him in my lap” I said as she power pushed us farther down the hall into baggage claim.

Once we retrieved our bags and got into my brothers car I finally relaxed. I was safe and Christopher was a sleep just a few minutes into our 2 hour drive south to Rolla. It had been a long time since I have left the comfort of my mountains, it had been a longtime since I had to ride in bumper to bumper traffic on a 5 line highway. St Louis even on a beautiful Saturday afternoon was a mess with accidents, reminding me why I hated living in the Denver Metro Area all those years.Then I remembered that this was what the Missouri called mountains and laughed. This mountain girl who lived 22 years at the foot of the Rocky Mountains in Boulder Colorado, and the 24 years in the hills and valleys of North Central West Virginia found the description of the Mountains of Missouri a joyful joke. So beautiful yet not a mountain in sight.

We all arrived at my brother’s house to a roaring fire and I was so sore and tired that I was thankful that we had no plans to go anywhere or see any more family that night. Christopher and I had a warm quite bed in the Ozarks and we had managed to stay safe and together all the way. It was a good night  and I was glad I had made the trip even on crutches.