We’ve just returned home from Pop Warner Cheer Nationals, no trophy in hand, but an experience of a lifetime for the 18 girls and their families. This is only the second trip we’ve taken via air travel, as I was a nervous wreck, and keto consumed our lives for the better part of four years.
I am beyond grateful that Reagan was able to experience this with her peers; it is truly an something I never once thought she would have when she was diagnosed with epilepsy and cerebral palsy. At the same time, I am appalled and infuriated by the lack of accessibility during this trip.
While Reagan’s CP is mild, people with cerebral palsy use three to five times more energy to try and move than people without the condition. Over time, this leads to both generalized fatigue and exhaustion.
Sleep deprivation/fatigue is a seizure trigger for Reagan (and many others). Yet, it is also the cause of many cognitive and emotional stressors in individuals with epilepsy, including slowed thinking, reduced attention span, corroding memory, and lack of energy.
Early mornings, long days, and late nights, coupled with extensive walking and the stress of the final competition, felt like a recipe for disaster. While there was SO much good (and fun), it didn’t have to be so hard. It is essential to note Reagan and I spoke at length about much of this.
I did ALL the airline prep, contacting TSA CARES and ensuring Reagan’s profile outline her disabilities. Only to arrive at the airport to hear airline workers have never even heard of TSA CARES. While her disability is clearly listed, the airline could have cared less, expressing as much as they reluctantly allowed us preferred boarding.
I asked in advance for an accessible room in a quiet area of the hotel. Only to check in and wait 9 hours to receive an inaccessible room, while others who don’t need accommodation receive ADA rooms.
I also asked for a suite, knowing I couldn’t join fellow coaches and parents in the evening at the bar for adult time. Not only would extra space allow Reagan to get around more quickly, but it would also allow me to close the door to a bedroom and invite parents and coaches to our room while maintaining a safe distance in the case of a seizure. I didn’t get the suite, so I sat alone outside our room, wallowing in the sorrows of our squad’s loss and wishing to feel like a normal parent. Until a friend came and sat on the cold hard concrete with me, cocktail in hand (note this isn’t about the cocktail, it’s about the normalcy).
Additionally, I sat in the dark of our hotel room in the middle of the day. At the same time, Reagan tried to nap to prepare for the competition, wishing I could be soaking up Vitamin D at the pool, knowing I would never leave my kid unattended because of seizures and epilepsy.
We didn’t move rooms after finally being told one was available. Though a second-floor walk up, the current room was next to and around the corner from Reagan’s friends and their parents, the only two people outside of me trained in seizure first aid. The comfort of knowing this trumped all (especially when you are the solo parent on the trip), and Reagan said no to moving rooms.
We received the late performance and award times, and panic set in, knowing it would push Reagan to her max. The noise and lights overwhelmed her to the point of her having a panic attack, which felt like the beginning of a seizure. Instead of watching others in our category compete, we found the quietest part of the convention center to sit. I assured her she would be okay, even though I was just as scared as she was that she wouldn’t.
Reagan struggled, yet knew her limits, asked to go to bed while her friends stayed up, and faced SO many fears. She hid her embarrassment from her friends after being constantly told she didn’t seem like herself and laughed at when she mixed up people and things. How do you explain to 11 and 12-year-olds that fatigue and anti-epileptic meds contribute to severe brain fog? On countless occasions during the week, Reagan thanked me for believing in her, making her feel safe, and giving her this opportunity. I know it’s all worth it, but it shouldn’t be so hard.
Please learn about the Americans with Disabilities Act – ADA (authored by a person with epilepsy), a CIVIL RIGHTS law that prohibits discrimination against people with disabilities in all areas of life, school, work, travel, etc…
American Airlines, educate your staff on both disability and TSA CARES. This service provides accommodations for people with disabilities when traveling via air travel, and read the profiles of your passengers with disabilities. Reagan uses AFOs (ankle foot orthotics), a mobility aide, that are cumbersome and time-consuming to get on and off.
Hilton, specifically Doubletree SeaWorld, accessible isn’t just about the room; it’s about where the room is. A second-floor walk up nowhere near the lobby isn’t for a kid with cerebral palsy. Not to mention, she couldn’t open the bathroom door. Alberto, the manager, did everything to try to rectify the situation. While appreciated, it was too late.
Pop Warner, I want to be mad because I cannot be refunded money for my hotel due to booking procedures. But I hope my kid, who performed on a National stage, is paving the way for other kids like her. Inclusion is invaluable to not only my daughter but also her teammates.
The world we live in is not accessible for those with disabilities. Every day, I fight for Reagan to have the same opportunities as other kids. I have been fortunate to find many who will fight with me, especially on this trip. But it’s an uphill battle. I am exhausted, defeated, and sad. This is an opportunity to educate others about what life, specifically traveling in this context, looks like for Reagan and me as her Mom, Coach, and Caregiver. Despite it all, Reagan and I had an experience of a lifetime, one we will not soon forget.