I'm Going to Disneyland!

Traveling with a motorized scooter has its own challenges, but it can make the difference between going somewhere or not. Most of the time, (not always) I'd rather go.  Fortunately, Earl has the strength and willingness to deal with Skeeter and doesn't expect a tip.  Cab drivers are also happy to help and I've found people to be kind and accommodating when asked.

When our brothers and sisters-in-law planned to celebrate their 50th anniversaries at the Grand Californian Hotel in Disneyland, there was no question about taking part.  They were inviting the entire extended clan and this was going to elevate the "Family Vacation" to a whole new level.  An opportunity to be at Disneyland with our grandchildren was a big draw.  In fact, with regard to any amusement park, the only draw.

Disneyland, while expensive, is very ADA compliant and there aren't many places a guest can't go with a walker, wheelchair or scooter-even some rides. There are many scooter rentals. Unfortunately, as I have discovered with parking, malls and grocery stores, there are also growing numbers of people with disabilities.  Often, whatever accommodation needed is already taken. I've learned to 1) go early 2) reserve if possible or 3) take my own scooter.

At family parks, the stroller is king, abounds everywhere, and has the additional advantage of being pushed by an adult human at eye level.  I have never gotten used to my "invisible" status, but I don't deliberately draw attention either. That approach may not always serve me well. Sitting on a scooter puts one about belly button level. People who are standing or walking may not see me.  That was another humiliation bullet–I just wasn't as noticeable as I thought.  That wasn't a major problem until it got dark, the main street closed for the night parade, diverting the crowds to the sidewalk.  Even back in my more upright and mobile times, being in a crowd was never my thing.  On the way to meet the kids for dinner, we were going against the tide (of course).  About 20 years ago, I had my first panic attack under similar circumstances.  This was almost my second. 

I just kept talking to myself, "Don't look at the castle, just keep your eyes on Earl, move slow and straight, and continue to breathe." It helped and I made it to the restaurant without running anyone over. The real tragedy was that there was no wine served at the restaurant.

Going on a trip that you didn't plan, wasn't planned to accommodate you, and just required attendance, is my idea of heaven.  Earl and I had no agenda beyond going to the anniversary party, seeing family, and being with the grand-children at Disneyland.  Mickey, Goofy, Pluto and a host of lesser known Disney characters were an ever present diversion.  Sure the children got tired, hungry, and cranky, but that wasn't our issue.  They had parents. 

Earl had booked an ADA room—another humiliation bullet for me the first time, but that was an easy one to swallow. ADA rooms are truly worthwhile when away from home, again making travel so much more pleasurable and less anxiety-filled.  They're on the first floor, roomier, accommodating and have grab bars.  But, every new environment has it's own learning curve (however brief). Once I figured out the shower and how to prevent flooding the bathroom, life was good again.

The  lesson:  Travel enhances adventure opportunities, but continue to breathe.