Not wanting to get too far away from the airport, Shannon and I decided to turn yesterday into a productive day at the hotel. We checked out and set up camp in the lobby. Shannon got caught up on some work stuff while I got caught up on our finances (not easy from the road). Later in the afternoon, we made our way to the airport and boarded on time. However, shortly after boarding, we were de-boarded due to “faulty relays.” We were loaded onto a different plane and made it to Atlanta, but missed our connecting flight to Dallas/Fort Worth. AirTran set us up with a hotel in Atlanta for the night, but still frustrated at the lost time and inconveniences, I decided to send a letter of complaint. Some might think that this is ridiculous, but my time is more valuable to me than ever these days. When I hear back from AirTran, I’ll be sure to post their response.
On a recent flight, the stewardess announced that there was a medical emergency and requested assistance from a licensed physician. The gentleman next to me raised his hand and was taken to the front of the plane to assist. The rest of the passengers, alright myself included, were rubber necking and whispering trying to determine what the emergency was about. This exemplifies a thought that often runs through my head. I have been told that I am at risk for a blood clot, which I interpret as there is a chance I could keel over anytime with little warning. So, we’re flying back to Texas to pick back up on the road trip of a lifetime…what’s on my mind as the plane takes off? What if I died here? I’ve always avoided making a public scene, and the thought of dying in a public place, like an airplane leaves me very unsettled. People gasping and gossiping to understand the story that they will be telling their friends for years. I think about this as I ride my motorcycle down the highway, fly on an airplane, or am clustered into any other public situation. When the time comes, I think it’s important to me that it be a private, quiet, and peaceful place.
Also, lately I’ve developed sort of a dark sense of humor about my condition. I joke about things like whether or not it makes financial sense to get a new 6 month supply of contacts, or whether I can justify signing a 2 year agreement to get the new iPhone. This frustrates everyone around me as they find it difficult to respond, but I think it is one of my coping mechanisms.