TRAVEL FROM HELL
Stepping outside that building was such a good feeling I almost cried. After 16 days and endless setbacks you almost wonder if you’ re ever getting out or if more bs will happen. I remember how nice the cool fresh air was compared to the hot, humid, stale little room I had sat in. I remember adjusting my eyes from white HD light to natural evening light and the size of the open landscape. Andy had a beer ready for me and I cracked it, not caring about the mix of antibiotics or pain meds just to sip and take the edge off. I sat there and soaked it in a little longer, telling an interested military guy next to me at the bus stop about my spider bite journey while I waited for the car to pull up. We finally left, went home, had Chinese takeout and I slept like a bear for 10 hours. I am forever grateful for the help that family gave me. The food, the pickup, the delivery to the airport and helping with my gear bag. They are my English family.
TRAVEL FROM HELL
That’ s right, it’ s not over or about to go smoothly. One more test lay in front of me. The doctor said the altitude pressure could cause more inflammation in my leg and I should wait a few days before flying but I could not care less at this point. Beyond this, my good friends from HK Army had so generously offered to help me get a flight out the day after I was released from the hospital, with as few stops as possible and extra leg room. These guys were saviors, helping me after I had missed my return flight weeks ago, just trying to make things less stressful on me. They are brothers who I am forever indebted to, and I was not about to miss the flight they booked.
But this test, although painful was more a test of patience. I’ d have to deal with a 10-hour flight back to Orlando, followed by another hour flight to Miami, followed by a five-hour drive home alone back up to Tampa. The seat was about as good as it gets without being first class, and we had movie screens and meals every few hours. I had painkillers that I was willing to finish to get through this long flight. But behind me sat a pathetically soft backboned father and two 5-7 year old kids that did not stop screaming at each other for nine straight hours.
Finally this flight comes into the Orlando area, and of course there is a Florida thunderstorm. It doesn’ t even look bad out the window and I’ ve been on flights that land in storms before, but this pilot and five others we are taxiing behind refuse to land till it improves. We circle for an hour and then due to the long overseas flight run out of fuel and have to get rerouted to Tampa. I am now at the airport in my own backyard, and can’ t get off the plane because we are refueling and returning to