Friends who have your back while climbing up a hill

Last week I spent five magical days between Sonoma and San Francisco with my friends. This girls' trip was the deep breath my soul needed. And as it turns out, my friends are the support system I didn't know I still needed. I went into this trip hopeful yet nervous about how my prosthetic would handle walking on the uneven dirt paths of a vineyard and up the incredibly steep streets of San Francisco. But I wasn't about to worry myself into missing an adventure, and after several major bumps in the road that threatened to cancel our trip, I learned that my friends were just as determined to drink all the wine in Sonoma as I was.

While checking the weather weeks before our scheduled flight and solely for outfit selection purposes, I saw a banner at the top of the screen about a tropical disturbance headed towards the warm waters of the Caribbean. As a native Floridian, I knew exactly what that meant, a distinct possibility that a major hurricane would soon be at Florida's doorstep. What are the odds the timing would line up in a way that would affect my travel? No way, right? Wrong. After the storm shifted ever so slightly to the East, Orlando was expected to take a direct hit, and all United flights were canceled. We were on a group call within minutes, panicking and immediately searching for alternative routes. How far north could we drive and be sure we were out of the storm's path? We settled on Atlanta. A six-hour overnight drive and an unspeakable amount of gas station snacks later, we arrived at Atlanta- Hartsfield Airport.

It was out of sheer exhaustion and desperation that we collectively decided to take a nap on the dirtiest airport floor I've ever seen. I was too tired to care when I heard a five-year-old seated across from my makeshift floor bed ask his Mother why so many girls were sleeping on the floor. A connecting flight to Chicago later, I was reminded that if you require the use of an airport wheelchair, you need to be prepared to fight for it.

Although I was picked up from the gate by a transport attendant who was ready and waiting as we stepped off the plane, she made it clear that I was an inconvenience and that this was one of the busiest airports in the US, so she would not be able to allow me to go anywhere but the gate after which she would need the chair back, meaning I could not grab food, go back and forth from the bathroom, or anywhere else while I waited for my flight that was still a full three hours away. Not wanting to deal with my concerns, she handed me a wheelchair belonging to a completely different company and was gone before we could ask any questions. There was an argument with the attendant of that wheelchair company after he asked for it back, and after not getting anywhere, my friends and I made it clear I wasn't giving up the chair but would be happy to leave it at our gate on the way out for him to collect. The fact is that as someone with a disability, it was my right to have the use of an airport wheelchair. Although I was physically able to walk, I was using it to avoid having to take several breaks and wear myself out before the trip even started. For others, the use of a wheelchair is much more of a necessity. Would they also be treated this way? Made to feel like a second-class citizen that was lucky they even had chairs available at all. The girls with me, all able-bodied and perhaps for the first time, were getting a glimpse of what people with disabilities deal with regularly.

Over the next few days, we made the most of our time together. We toured winery after winery and never once used our spit cups. We soaked in the California sunsets and all the avocado toast and laughed so hard we almost fell out of our shared double beds. When the hills of San Francisco felt more like Mt. Everest, I had one friend holding me on either side for support and another walking behind me in case I should wobble backward. We made it up to the elevation of The Painted Ladies together, and no one was left behind. On a particularly long day of adventuring, I was dreading the long windy walk back to our hotel cottage located at the back of the property, so they grabbed a luggage cart, and I hopped right in. We made light of the situation, and they drove that thing like a race car. I never wanted to make it about me, and my friends knew how to help without making it a conversation. We carried on sharing funny stories and making core memories in a way that told me I wasn't dead weight they were carrying. They knew when I did and didn't need help, and it wasn't an annoyance. Just as casual as asking someone to pass the ketchup.

This trip and my friends renewed my faith in the power of people. How little we all know about what others struggle with is an opportunity for learning, compassion, and personal growth. If we all took a bit more time to educate ourselves on mental health, disability, and how to best support one another, this world would be far more full of love. If we all took a bit more time to help others and thank those who have been there for us, the world would be far more full of hope.

Here's to a world full of love and hope. Special thanks to my Angels on earth, Lacey, Jax, Jules, and Cassi. And the ones that couldn't make the trip but NO DOUBT would have been just as supportive and have always been... Sarah, Jessica, and Faith.