My flight back to the US was at noon on Carnival Tuesday. I woke up and was moving slowly – I had reached home only a few hours before so I wasn’t ready to wake up but “all good things must come to an end” so I got ready. By the time it was time to leave for the airport I was fine. Boarded my flight without incident and headed back to reality. I remember feeling a little out of sorts but chalked it up to being tired and I think I slept most of the 3.5 hours. About 45 mins before it was time to land, I pulled out my immigration form to complete it. uhm…uh oh! I was having an extremely hard time holding the pen and writing. What the?!? The more I “wrote”, the worse my handwriting got. Eventually I gave up because had I continued the immigration people woulda told me, “eh eh…you go right back where u came from!” I took a deep breath and asked the chick next to me to complete it for me. She was happy to oblige but all the while, I kept apologising because I really felt bad and couldn’t believe it had come to that.
I’m usually the first to board a plane and last to leave. Now because I ask for an aisle chair, they would normally bring it for both the departure and arrival airports but as I mentioned in my last post, I usually tell them not to bother when I land. Also, most times I don’t ask to be transferred to and from my window seat, I’ll just shuffle the 2,3 steps across the other seats to the aisle. That day when we landed, at first, I could not move (literally). I couldn’t do shit…could barely unbuckle my seatbelt. That’s when I realised that I wasn’t feeling well and appeared to be getting sick. The fellas arrived with the chair and I still hadn’t moved – except to finally unbuckle the belt. They had to transfer me from my seat over to the aisle chair. I just couldn’t get up to walk over. I went as far as to ask the guys to transfer me to SS – I just didn’t trust that I could get on. Shit!!! What fresh hell was this? I was in Fort Lauderdale…I still had another flight to catch 3 hrs later to get back to Atlanta…uh oh. I had to go thru immigration, get my luggage, drive to a completely different terminal, check in, go thru security, get to my gate AND wait three whole hours…the way I was feeling, I knew I wasn’t going to make it on my own.
i asked one of the guys if he would please go with me all the way to my gate cuz I wasn’t feeling well (see, they automatically help if u’re in one of their chairs but because I use my scooter, my ass is grass – LOL – what I mean is that I’m independent so the assumption is that I don’t need help). Well I certainly did that day. I’ve learned that people are generally nice…I’ve never asked for help and received a “no” for an answer…guy helped me with my luggage and walked with me all the way to my next gate. I cannot begin to explain how grateful I was. If only I could have curled up and slept while he waited for boarding time. Finally, after what felt like days, I was back in ATL. Atlanta airport is 5000x busier than Fort Lauderdale so in that airport, I was actually rolling with someone who was pushing a passenger in a chair. By then, I could barely lift my left arm (my problem side) to work the controls of SS – I actually had to use the right to stretch the left to reach the handle. And steering? Especially around corners? It was embarrassing!!! I kept running into doors and all kinda things cuz I just didn’t have the strength. At one point, I actually said to them, “listen. I drive this like a pro normally but I’m not well right now so please bear with me.” It was one of the few times that I actually asked G to come inside the airport to meet me.
Turns out that I’d come down with the cold – just the common cold but here’s the thing about my contracting the common cold (with my already compromised immune system) – my body has to fight (however many more times) harder than a well person and all my “MS Issues” kick into overdrive, so essentially…it COMPLETELY KNOCKS ME DOWN!!! I couldn’t do anything for myself. I actually had to have someone with me 24/7 for the following week and a half. I was supposed to go to work the Thursday and Friday after I came back. I didn’t…not until Monday, and even then I wasn’t completely healed. It was horrible; I wouldn’t wish my experience on my worst enemy.
Was going home for Carnival worth it? Hell yeah!
What did the whole experience teach me? Next time, I will stay home for at least a week after. I not rushing rush back…If i’m to get sick, let it be at home!
Allyuh have a great weekend. I have to go say goodbye to a friend who died last week Friday. I loved him…even though he used to call me Bert (LOL – I had a uni-brow in those days). Life is unpredictable and tomorrow is never promised. Live each day like it’s ur last.
P.S. I’m completely healed and back to my normal self with no lingering effects