There once was a time when I loved flying. I loved flying anywhere. I loved being on a business trip like a grown up, staying in a hotel where someone else makes the bed, and seeing new places, even if only for a glimpse. I loved having several uninterrupted hours to sit in one place and think, or read, or write with no guilt that I should really be doing something else. Now, I hate flying. It’s gone from a pleasurable experience to a miserable one.
I’m not griping about security. I truly recognize the importance of the screening process. But, nowadays it’s just such a chore, especially if you travel with a lot of medical “stuff.” I’m now resigned to the fact that I will have to ask for airport assistance from now on. I’ve always been sort of proud of my great orientation and mobility skills. I’ve always been able to figure out airports, even if I couldn’t read the gate signs, by just using a little logic and asking a few questions along the way. Now, however, it takes me a good half hour to get through security even if I ask for help and they move me to the front of the line. If I don’t ask for help, I’m risking missing my flights.
The whole process is just exhausting. You tug off your shoes (I know wear slip on clogs to make this easier), remove your coat and jacket, wrestle for one of those gray tubs to put everything in, try to unzip the laptop bag without everything falling out while still balancing all your other belongings – and then now I have to remove my entire CPAP and take it completely apart for inspection. I usually stuff my medication and ostomy supplies in the CPAP bag, so as the machine is removed the little bottles go rolling all over the place and you can’t help but wonder if you’re going to arrive at the final destination with everything.
I arrive at the gate feeling as though I’ve just had a work out.
This trip I didn’t get to fly my beloved Midwest Airlines. Instead, I had to take Northwest. It was adequate. The plane didn’t crash after all. The personnel were all very helpful and friendly. But those seats! It’s amazing the flying public hasn’t had more of a revolt about airline seats!
Granted, I’m not a small person. I’ve got a big butt and I’m tall. But, I’m not much taller than the average man. I was almost glad my flight wasn’t direct just so I had a chance to get up and move my legs after being wedged into a three-person row so tightly that it was next to impossible to move. My knees have bruises on them from being jammed into the seat in front of me. My joints were acting up because they just tend to do that if I don’t move around every so often.
Besides wedging human beings into a long flying tube as tightly as possible, these days you also don’t seem to get fed. My connection was too tight to stop and buy anything. On the way to New York, I was offered a “snack pack” for five bucks that did help to tide me over a bit – even though about half of its contents weren’t very ostomy friendly. But on the way home no such offer was made. I arrived home having only eaten the muffin I had for breakfast.
Donna had offered me a banana at breakfast that I declined as I was trying to keep the “poo” at a certain “level” for traveling. I should have taken it and put it in my bag for later! Grin!
But, I’ll still fly. It beats staying home.
I’m not griping about security. I truly recognize the importance of the screening process. But, nowadays it’s just such a chore, especially if you travel with a lot of medical “stuff.” I’m now resigned to the fact that I will have to ask for airport assistance from now on. I’ve always been sort of proud of my great orientation and mobility skills. I’ve always been able to figure out airports, even if I couldn’t read the gate signs, by just using a little logic and asking a few questions along the way. Now, however, it takes me a good half hour to get through security even if I ask for help and they move me to the front of the line. If I don’t ask for help, I’m risking missing my flights.
The whole process is just exhausting. You tug off your shoes (I know wear slip on clogs to make this easier), remove your coat and jacket, wrestle for one of those gray tubs to put everything in, try to unzip the laptop bag without everything falling out while still balancing all your other belongings – and then now I have to remove my entire CPAP and take it completely apart for inspection. I usually stuff my medication and ostomy supplies in the CPAP bag, so as the machine is removed the little bottles go rolling all over the place and you can’t help but wonder if you’re going to arrive at the final destination with everything.
I arrive at the gate feeling as though I’ve just had a work out.
This trip I didn’t get to fly my beloved Midwest Airlines. Instead, I had to take Northwest. It was adequate. The plane didn’t crash after all. The personnel were all very helpful and friendly. But those seats! It’s amazing the flying public hasn’t had more of a revolt about airline seats!
Granted, I’m not a small person. I’ve got a big butt and I’m tall. But, I’m not much taller than the average man. I was almost glad my flight wasn’t direct just so I had a chance to get up and move my legs after being wedged into a three-person row so tightly that it was next to impossible to move. My knees have bruises on them from being jammed into the seat in front of me. My joints were acting up because they just tend to do that if I don’t move around every so often.
Besides wedging human beings into a long flying tube as tightly as possible, these days you also don’t seem to get fed. My connection was too tight to stop and buy anything. On the way to New York, I was offered a “snack pack” for five bucks that did help to tide me over a bit – even though about half of its contents weren’t very ostomy friendly. But on the way home no such offer was made. I arrived home having only eaten the muffin I had for breakfast.
Donna had offered me a banana at breakfast that I declined as I was trying to keep the “poo” at a certain “level” for traveling. I should have taken it and put it in my bag for later! Grin!
But, I’ll still fly. It beats staying home.
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