Suitcase Tetris, or how to travel with a disability

By Amy Bekier, San Diego, California

Traveling is supposed to be magical. Think sunsets in Santorini, surprise upgrades, and tiny shampoos you definitely don’t need but absolutely take. But if you travel with a disability, it can feel less “Eat Pray Love” and more “Survive Pray Don’t Break Anything.”

I don’t fly often, but when I do, I pack like I’m prepping for a reality show: Wheelchair Warrior: Airport Edition. The trick? Low expectations and a suitcase packed tighter than a toddler in a snowsuit.

Pack Smart or Cry Later

I roll with a 20-inch hard-sided suitcase. Do I have to check it? Yes. Do I resent that? Also yes. But inside it is a Tetris masterpiece of accessibility gear. If Amazon followed my online purchasing before a trip, their stock would spike. Everything mentioned here can be ordered on Amazon.

• A collapsible bedrail (for not falling out of bed)
• Suction-cup grab bars (they actually stick… usually)
• A shower stool that breaks down like IKEA furniture
• Folding step stool (for when bed heights are built for NBA players)
• Toilet riser (3 inch throne of glory)
• Inflatable wedge and small battery pump (my DIY exit ramp from bed)
• Bedside urinal (her name’s ‘Loona’ and she’s fabulous and wide-mouthed)
• And, of course, my lighted makeup mirror (a girl’s gotta glow!)

And there’s still room for two packing cubes of clothes plus toiletries, makeup, and exactly one lightweight hairdryer. See the photo for how I get it all to fit.

Airport Survival 101

First, call the airline’s accessibility desk. Then call them again. Confirm wheelchair specs and the cargo opening dimensions. There may be only specific flights with a cargo door large enough to accommodate a power chair. You do not want your chair turned on its side.

Confirm aisle chair availability at the gate and your seating needs. Bonus tip: Avoid bulkhead seating unless you enjoy armrests that don’t move and fixed seat backs.

In-flight toileting? That’s a comedy special. Most of us fly dehydrated and hope for the best. Rehydrate as soon as you land—or sooner if you like chaos.

Before boarding, strip your chair like it’s going through customs: joystick, cushion, headrest, backpack, battery charger—all off. Toss it all in a “medical bag”. Label the ‘free-wheel lever” and lifting points on the chair. Then whisper a prayer and send it into cargo with crossed fingers and a mild panic.

Traveling Scared—And Going Anyway

People ask, “Aren’t you scared to travel?”

Yes. But with preparation, patience, and the ability to laugh when everything falls apart (sometimes literally), it’s worth it.

You won’t get it perfect. You might cry in an airport bathroom (been there). But you’ll also collect stories, confidence, and maybe even a fridge magnet.

Bon voyage—and may your chair arrive in one piece.