and Hoping They See Me, Not Just My Disabilities: Part 1
Off I go, across the Atlantic.
Booked on American Airlines with a few layovers; armed with snacks, so many medications, my medical nutrition (formula), contingency plans, medical records to identify what’s medically necessary to travel with; and just enough optimism to be considered bold.
Let’s talk about it.
✈️ The Wins (Because There Were Some)
First, let’s give credit where it’s due.
American Airlines does offer allergy-friendly meal options on international flights, but- and this is important- you must request them well in advance. This is not a “decide at boarding” or “request at meal time” situation. This is a “plan your survival like a tiny, dairy-free general” situation.
While my specific constellation of mast cell triggers meant I couldn’t eat everything provided, I was able to safely pick and choose enough to stay nourished until landing. And honestly? That matters. The dairy free options weren’t just stale bread and an apple juice. It had some variety. I took pictures of each of the brands, because I may be interested in ordering + carrying these along with me for future travel plans.
They also allowed me to gate check my walker/rollator, which is non-negotiable for me. Being able to keep it until the very last possible moment before boarding made a significant difference in conserving energy and maintaining my stability.
And in a plot twist I genuinely appreciated:
Because American maintains a firm, unwavering, absolutely immovable stance against creating allergen buffer zones, they allowed me to use my respirator with a rechargeable HEPA filter onboard.
So yes, I sat there like a medically complex Darth Vader, waiting until the entire cabin finished eating, trash was collected, and the air had (hopefully) stopped circulating dairy and allium particles like a chaotic little allergen trigger soup… before I removed my mask to eat.
Was it glamorous? No.
Was it effective? Meh. Cant say for sure. But it was safer. And I didn’t have any breathing issues- And sometimes safer is the win. Mast cells really have a mind of their own and traveling via plane comes with certain risks one has to make peace with.
🧳 The Reality Check
Now let’s talk about the ✨character-building moments✨
The flight was on a Boeing 777, which is a beautiful aircraft unless you are 5’2” and simply trying to access your belongings up above without summoning a ladder or divine intervention.
The overhead bins? Comically high.
Like, “this was designed exclusively for tall people and optimism” high.
A very kind, much taller stranger helped me retrieve my bag, which was both appreciated and a gentle reminder that accessibility often relies more on community than design.
The bathrooms were also noticeably smaller than what I’ve experienced on some domestic flights and other international flights (currently I’d say British Airways and Lufthansa both win as far as sizing goes). Tight turns, limited space, and not exactly friendly to bodies that need a little extra room to exist comfortably. In fact, a man in the row next to me shared he’d just have to wait until we reached London because he couldn’t fit in the bathroom. I felt terrible. How much pain that could put someone in. Gosh.
🫠 The Allergy Reality (A Slightly Unhinged Interlude)
Let’s circle back to the allergy policy for a moment.
American Airlines’ stance is clear:
No buffer zones. Under any circumstance. Ever.
I was made aware via telephone beforehand, at the gate, and by the flight attendants- that no matter what your allergy is, they will not accommodate any passengers with buffer zones, and it’s on the passenger to book a seat they feel is most comfortable for them, and bring what they feel they may need on the flight to avoid medical events from occurring. I have so many thoughts about that. What a stance to take. The customer service representative over the phone transferred me to a specialist who stated even peanut allergies cannot be accommodated but they do not serve peanuts any longer. again. So many thoughts. But nor the time or place, this post is already long enough.
This means if you have severe, airborne-triggered reactions, your options are:
✨ Vibes, ✨ Hope, or ✨ A respirator and a dream
I chose option 3.
💛 A Moment at the Gate I Won’t Forget
Before boarding, I met a family in line at the gate counter.
They were requesting pre-boarding for their daughter, who had just been diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. This was her first international flight, and they were trying to do something incredibly reasonable: let her board early, get familiar with the space, settle into her seat, and avoid the sensory overwhelm of a crowded boarding process.
A thoughtful, proactive, completely justifiable ask.
While we waited, I spoke with their daughter. She asked if she could touch my walker.
I told her that generally, people with mobility aids prefer that others don’t touch them- but I was honored she asked and would love for her to learn what it felt like.
She gently explored it:
- Testing the brakes
- Pressing the squishy seat
- Tracing the pattern of the fabric with her finger
It was quiet. Curious. Intentional.
A small, beautiful moment of understanding and trust in the middle of a chaotic travel day.
🫠 And Then… Everything Fell Apart
Fast forward to boarding.
We’re already delayed, and then suddenly- chaos.
Three passengers.
Same seat number.
One of them? The child mentioned up above.
So now we have a situation where a young child on the spectrum is at risk of being separated from her family on her first international flight because of a seat assignment error.
And instead of a swift, compassionate resolution, we got… a 27-minute standoff.
Here’s how it unfolded:
- The child was moved into her dad’s seat
- The mom begged another passenger to move one seat over so she could stay with her child
- The dad relocated two rows back to an open aisle seat
- The original passenger took the child’s assigned seat
- The last passenger was eventually upgraded to first class
All of this took nearly half an hour. On a delayed flight. With rising tension. With a flight attendant that seemed to be frustrated with existence itself.
And while the situation itself was frustrating, what stood out most was how preventable so much of it felt.
💔 When Systems Fail, People Feel It
This same flight attendant denied a religious meal to members of this family because their seat numbers had changed.
Let me say that again.
She participated in the seat reassignment.
She was aware of the changes.
And still chose not to ensure that a pre-requested religious meal followed the passengers it belonged to.
Instead, they went without food.
On a long-haul international flight.
A small child had already said she was hungry. And now the adults, too, were left without the accommodations they had planned for and were entitled to.
And this is where a small systems fix could make a massive difference:
- Confirming the passenger’s name, not just seat number, before handing out specialty meals
- Ensuring meals follow the passenger if seats change
- Even having a small buffer of additional religious or medical meals onboard for situations exactly like this
Because people are not just seat numbers. And their needs don’t disappear when logistics get messy. After everything this poor family went through, on top of not being able to eat the meals they were served- they undeniably were left to think these acts of poor service had to have been racially biased. The flight attendant did nothing to assure them or anyone else she was sorry, and at one point raised her hands and said “your pre orders should’ve been more clear, how was I supposed to know you were going to play musical chairs”. Like what? Idk. Maybe she needed rest- but a career in hospitality doesn’t give room for disregard to guest needs. So many thoughts on this. So many.
🥺 A Small Moment of Resilience
Through all of this, the little girl handled the changes better than most adults would have.
She cried for a bit when she couldn’t see her dad. Which… of course she did. That’s her safe person.
But then she stood on her seat, turned around, and waved back toward him- making sure he could still see her.
And eventually, she settled back in next to her mom.
Kids adapt.
But they shouldn’t have to adapt to chaos that could have been prevented. Especially when there were opportunities to fill the gaps that the overbooking of the same seat created. So much more could’ve been done but this one flight attendant just kept reiterating it wasn’t her job to accommodate. And while this situation had nothing to do with me- being in spaces where a total lack of regard to others, especially to minorities in a clear demonstration of race inequality, makes for the most uncomfortable trip for all involved (and this isn’t to remove any light away from the discomfort and disrespect felt by the family targeted). All of it was highly unfortunate and should never have escalated the way it did.
🌍 Arrival at Heathrow: A Masterclass in “Figure It Out Yourself”
Flying into Heathrow Airport was… an experience.
When you gate check a mobility device here, it is not returned to you at the aircraft door.
I repeat- it is not returned to the aircraft or jet bridge. You have to go find it. HEATHROW. MAKE THAT MAKE SENSE.
Instead, you:
- Walk the entire jet bridge
- Enter a gated waiting area (of which there are no signs, just hoping you’re in the right area)
- Stand there… with no chairs, no benches
- And wait (in my case, nearly an hour) for your mobility aid
No assistance staff. No proactive support. Just hoping the airline can relocate your mobility device.
And while I personally would have declined a wheelchair if offered as I appreciate my ambulatory ability (and maybe a sense of internalized ablism is peeking out there), I do rely on my walker for stability, propulsion, and subluxations.
Standing, unsupported, after a long-haul flight is not accessibility. Blehk. Not a fan.
🤍 So… Would I Fly American Again?
I’m not swearing off American Airlines.
But I am… thinking.
There were things they did well:
- Allergy-friendly meal availability (with planning ahead)
- Allowing protective medical equipment like my respirator
- Gate checking mobility aid
- Multiple restrooms available
And those things matter.
But so do the moments where systems- and people- fall short.
✨ Let’s Talk
If you’ve flown internationally- especially transatlantic- I would genuinely love to hear from you.
- Which airlines have you felt safest with?
- Who actually understands accessibility beyond the bare minimum?
- Where have you felt seen, supported, and accommodated?
Because we deserve more than just getting through the journey.
We deserve to experience it safely, fully, and with dignity. If you’re comfortable responding below, I’d be honored to hear about what airlines and airports have been the best for your needs.
Talk soon 💛
Hi friends! My name is Lauren. Thank you for being here and for making it this far. If you like what I’m doing here and want to support me/the blog – feel welcome to follow along on Instagram or TikTok– where we’re now 9k strong and continuing to grow! You can also Buy Me a Cup of Coffee (isn’t that cool? I’m learning something new everyday!). Click around for some of the best resources I’ve found for food allergies, clinical trials, and drug info. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m also accepting patient stories, if anyone’s interested in sharing their rare disease experience or looking for a place to share their diagnostic odyssey or promote your blog/business – reach out to me, I’d love to elevate other rare voices. I’m so happy you’re here and happy you’re alive for another day. <3 XoXo, Lauren
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