So I’m flying this summer — I do more summers than not. And I hate it. It hurts. But it’s necessary to get where I want to go.
It hurts because airport — and airplane — seats are excruciating for this big girl with chronic hip and low back pain.
I have done a lot of things wrong, with flying, over the years. But I have learned from my mistakes and have come to do more and more things right — where “right” is the same as what minimizes my pain.
These won’t hold true for everyone, but I figured they might be worth sharing. They all hold true with the caveats if they help you and to the extent they are reasonable for you. Everybody’s needs and priorities are not the same as mine. That said, sometimes it can help to consider a point, even if it’s to decide something is different for you. Because then — at least you know.
Choosing Dates — Admittedly, this first one reflects my own privilege and luxury. Most of the time I fly, I am in vacation mode and so my dates are somewhat flexible. Because of that, I try to travel on days when I’m less likely to be in much pain — or at least to avoid the days when pain is likely to be worst. Even in cases of leisure travel, this does assume that one’s pain is moderately predictable — and even then, it can backfire — but it’s a nice place to start.
Choosing Times — I know some people have the most pain when they get up in the morning. My bigger issue is fatigue-related pain that sets in toward the evening. Because of this, I’m likely to select flights earlier in the day (thanks to everyone who’s driven me to the airport at 5:00am!) — where I’m less likely to encounter flight delays and where I’m likely to be done with airporting before I’m at my worst pain levels for the day. Again, not always possible due to individual pain issues and flight levels, but it can be beneficial to consider.
Choosing Flights — While this may not be as relevant for all flight lengths, I most commonly fly between Michigan and Arizona. Depending on the specific flights and directions, that’s usually between 4.5 and 5.5 hours in the air. Since extended sitting is excruciating for my back and hips, my flying experience is so much better if I can break up that air time into two flights of relatively equal lengths. (Dear Texas, for this reason, I will be forever grateful for your existence and geographical placement.) A comfortable layover time (about an hour) is my own personal jackpot, but I’d rather rush to make a connection or be stuck in the airport for an extra hour than to be stuck on a non-stop flight for that long.
Choosing Seats — Yes, in a perfect world, we’d all be able to upgrade to first class or at least spring for the “good” coach seats — you know, the non-middle seats in the aisles that purport to have extra leg room. And such seats would be available on every leg of every flight. As neither of these are options I can really count on (the one more than the other), my primary tactic here involves less money but more time.
Most airlines, save those that don’t have assigned seating, will allow passengers to select their seats before the entire transaction is complete. (That is, if something goes wrong, I can opt out before I’ve given them any of my financial information.) In that, I can also see the seat layout of each plane. A lot of coach sections have three-by-three seating — three seats, then an aisle, then three more seats. Some, however, have two-by-three seating — two seats, then an aisle, then three seats. While some of the two-seat rows come with an extra fee, it’s not usually any more than the corresponding three-seat rows (so, first several rows of the plane and emergency exit rows). This is a huge deal for me because it means I can avoid (in order of importance):
- The dreaded middle seat. (Seriously. If those seats were people, I’d be wishing them runny poop and one-ply.)
- Climbing out from the window seat of a three-seat row, especially while the plane is in motion. There are nerve damage issues to contend with; plus, the slant of the seats in front of me combined with the low-hanging overhead compartment make my torso scream.
- Standing up in the aisle whenever any of the other two of my row-mates needs to get up. Certainly they get to move about the cabin as the captain and flight attendants see fit. But maintaining a stable standing body in a moving vehicle hurt.
A two-seat row eliminates my first (and biggest) problem and significantly reduces the other two. If I get to consider other factors as well — for example, in front of a bulkhead or in front of an emergency exit row, to reduce the chance that people will jostle my seat from behind — even better. Additionally — because I know it’s been a factor for me — it’s also sometimes possible to select a seat relatively close to the restrooms.
And of course, for folks needing assistance beyond this, most airlines have contact numbers available.
Huh. I did not know I was about to become so prolific on flying and pain. I had meant this to be a single post — but I’m not even to packing, let alone to what I do at the airport. I guess there will be more coming up?
