Wednesday, December 17, 2008

The Airport

(Editor's Note: Sorry for the long delay in blog updates! Although entirely unrelated to my recovery, it's been a hectic and at times difficult end-of-month.)

Okay... now where were we? Ah yes, our trip home.

We were scheduled to fly home on Friday, November 28th, the day after Thanksgiving. After some breakfast, we spent the morning packing up eight days worth of luggage and memories. Luggage is heavier and bulkier, however, and takes longer to pack.

I had arrived in Denver with one large suitcase, a backpack, and a laptop. I had also arrived with the ability to lift things. As we were packing, however, it became clear that we had added to that list Stacey's suitcase, backpack, various odds-and-ends, and a brand new, fresh incision on the back of my neck that came with the warning that I was not to lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk. As we hadn't planned on flying home with a gallon of milk, this severely limited my contribution, and correspondingly resulted in the first of Stacey's many valiant efforts on my behalf (which have already won her the '2009 Wife of the Year Award').

After the luggage was packed, I shuffled along with my wife as every piece of luggage was lugged (hence the name) from the hotel room down to the car. I helplessly watched her partake in this activity as I'm sure onlookers pondered why she was with this skullcap-wearing deadbeat (that's me).

When we were finally loaded up and checked out of the hotel, we drove to the car rental return, and once again I swallowed my pride from the sidelines as Stacey pulled everything out of the rental and then onto the shuttle. I ignored any (real or imagined) furtive glances from other passengers.

When the shuttle dropped us off at the airport, my wife once again hauled our entire week's supply of belongings through the airport into the near mile-long line at the ticket counter. As she meandered through the maze-like line that would give any Disneyland ride a run for its money, I sat despondently on a bench, away from the action, waiting for my cue to skulk up to the ticket counter and check-in. At this point I thought, and I'm sure you're thinking too, that my self-respect had been entirely depleted. Oh no. No, not quite.

We had previously arranged for a wheelchair to cart me around, which sounded like a great idea at the time, but by now I was feeling so emasculated that I wasn't so sure I wanted it. Stacey insisted, and I was in no position to argue. After checking in the two largest bags, we received our tickets and were directed around the corner to a small room, where I was given both a wheelchair and a designated wheelchair pusher, both courtesy of the airport. Stacey was given approximately two miles of Denver airport to traverse with our remaining luggage in tow.

The good news is that with a wheelchair, you're given special (read: quick) access through the security terminal. No need to wait in long lines, which was a boon. (I need to briefly thank Jenn for giving me this advice. In hindsight it was a real timesaver!) The bad news is that the Denver airport is large, and my wife -- who was probably very tired of carrying things by now -- still needed to walk much of it, although she refused to complain.

After what seemed like a fairly long time, we made it to the terminal, and after boarding the plane, we had a pleasant flight (worth the $39 Economy Plus upgrade) home.

I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that getting off the plane in Sacramento and to our car was virtually the same experience as what happened in Denver, wheelchair included. Thankfully Sacramento International is roughly 1/10th the size of the Denver Airport (which could probably incorporate as its own city if it wanted to). Once we were in our car, we could finally breathe easy... we'd be home in less than thirty minutes.

I'll repeat in case I haven't said it enough -- Stacey was absolutely amazing on this trip. In addition to everything else, she managed to drag five bags (2 large suitcases, a backpack, and two carry-ons) onto two car rental shuttles, through two airports, and in and out of two cars while I glided along on four wheels with ne'er a care in the world. She did everything to ensure that nothing would jeopardize my condition, and I simply could not have done this without her.

Coming up Next: Home at Last

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