From Hospital Floors To Castle Doors: My First Disney Trip Post Surgery

One of my very first outings after leaving inpatient rehab was a trip to Disney and I was so excited.

Disney has always been a place of joy for my family and me, a space where life feels lighter and magic feels possible. So going back, newly disabled, felt both thrilling and intimidating. This time, the parks would look different but I was determined to enjoy them anyway. My family and I stayed at the Swan and Dolphin, and for the weekend we rented an electric scooter. And let me tell you, this was not just any scooter. It was

Darth Vader–themed, had a sunshade, a walker holder in the back, and even a mister to keep me cool. Truly the Rolls-Royce of scooters. If I was going to do Disney on wheels, I was going to do it in style.

Epcot has always been our favorite park eating and drinking around the world is basically a family tradition. Learning how to navigate the park on a scooter was definitely an adjustment. It required patience, spatial awareness, and a whole new level of confidence. I won’t lie, there were moments that hurt. Some people were inconsiderate. Some stared. Some gave nasty looks that made me painfully aware of my body and my difference. But what stays with me most isn’t that, what overshadows it is the kindness. The people who stepped aside without being asked. The Cast Members who went out of their way to help. The strangers who smiled, made conversation, or treated me like I belonged there just as much as anyone else. Their kindness mattered more than they’ll ever know.

At the time, it was going to be a while before I could ride any rides. Instead, we spent a lot of time watching shows, taking breaks, and simply being together. Disney became less about thrill rides and more about presence about learning how to exist in my body in a place that once felt effortless.

As time went on, going to Disney almost became a personal challenge. Every visit, we rented a wheelchair. My sisters and friends would take turns pushing me around the parks while I proudly held everyone’s water bottles. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was teamwork. And it was love.

Then came a moment I had been waiting for. The day I was finally cleared for rides again. The first ride I rode was Soarin’ with my family back when it had just changed to Soarin’ Over California, a version I hadn’t seen since I was a child. Sitting there, suspended in the air, it felt surreal. Emotional. Almost like reclaiming a piece of myself I thought I had lost.

It took me well over a year to work my way back to bigger rides. So much time had passed that when I finally rode them again, it felt like experiencing them for the first time. I had forgotten what it felt like the speed, the anticipation, the joy. Some rides still make me a little nervous, and that’s okay. But being able to ride Guardians of the Galaxy again? That felt like true victory.

Going to Disney while newly disabled taught me that magic doesn’t disappear when life changes it just looks different. It shows up in adaptability, in kindness, in small wins, and in moments you never thought you’d get back. And sometimes, it shows up in a Darth Vader scooter with a mister.