Oh geez. Flying. I don't anymore. Period. Last time I flew anywhere, I was almost completely limp by the other end of the flight from sitting up so long (which may have also contributed to the time I turned grey and nearly passed out and went totally limp the day after the first flight). I just can't sit in that position for hours like that. Nor can I afford for them to mangle my powerchair. So barring some incredibly unforeseen circumstance, I never want to fly again. It takes too much out of me not only the flight itself but for weeks after. It's just hell on my body.
And that's without any additional concerns, of which there are zillions. I'm lucky in one respect which is that the progression of my movement disorder makes my reflexive violence basically never happen anymore. Not in a long time. And (especially coupled with wheelchairs) I look so unusual by now that they never expect much normal behavior out of me anymore. They don't even expect me to understand them. So the eye contact is less of a problem. Usually. The trouble is usually more of getting them to see me as enough of a person to avoid them doing a bunch of nasty unpleasant crap on THAT end of things.
I don't want to know what they would make of my pissing implant though, nor what it would make of their security scanners (which have been known to cause malfunctions in such implants, which could range from just turning it off and making me incapable of peeing, to for all I know turning it up until it's shooting flaming-spikes-of-death level pain down my nerves). The manufacturers did give me a card to show to airport personnel, because it's a problem for lots of people when electronics are discovered in their buttocks either by patdown or scanning. But I don't plan on having to test it.
Oh yeah and there's stuff that's happened to disabled friends in airports that I don't want to try. Like being wheeled onto planes with straps around their necks while unable to speak well enough to object. Just... I won't go to an airport again unless it's the only way to save my life (and it had better do so because I don't want to RISK my life on airplanes). It boggles me that they don't have mandatory wheelchair seating, or any way for a person to lay down if they can't sit up that long. Too many things to go wrong too many ways.
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And that's without any additional concerns, of which there are zillions. I'm lucky in one respect which is that the progression of my movement disorder makes my reflexive violence basically never happen anymore. Not in a long time. And (especially coupled with wheelchairs) I look so unusual by now that they never expect much normal behavior out of me anymore. They don't even expect me to understand them. So the eye contact is less of a problem. Usually. The trouble is usually more of getting them to see me as enough of a person to avoid them doing a bunch of nasty unpleasant crap on THAT end of things.
I don't want to know what they would make of my pissing implant though, nor what it would make of their security scanners (which have been known to cause malfunctions in such implants, which could range from just turning it off and making me incapable of peeing, to for all I know turning it up until it's shooting flaming-spikes-of-death level pain down my nerves). The manufacturers did give me a card to show to airport personnel, because it's a problem for lots of people when electronics are discovered in their buttocks either by patdown or scanning. But I don't plan on having to test it.
Oh yeah and there's stuff that's happened to disabled friends in airports that I don't want to try. Like being wheeled onto planes with straps around their necks while unable to speak well enough to object. Just... I won't go to an airport again unless it's the only way to save my life (and it had better do so because I don't want to RISK my life on airplanes). It boggles me that they don't have mandatory wheelchair seating, or any way for a person to lay down if they can't sit up that long. Too many things to go wrong too many ways.