A Trip to Paradise with a Detour to Hell
Hello, my polite travelers. There are times when our most perfectly planned trip goes sideways. When this happens, we can either roll with it or fight it. I choose the former choice and roll with it. Or, as I like to say, "Just flow with the current." How would you respond to this event?
Typically,
a flight to the beautifully vibrant islands of Hawaii is about five
hours for those of us in California. Most of the time, these trips are
uneventful and result in a marvelous, relaxing visit.
In
fact, the Hawaiian Islands are one of my favorite vacation spots. I love
the brilliant, clear skies and the fragrance of tropical flowers wafting
through the air. Five hours in the sky seems nothing compared to the joy I
experience once I've landed. Nevertheless, on this particular trip, one
disaster after another nearly quashed my love
of travel.
Planning Our Trip
It
was a well-deserved vacation to the main island of Hawaii, better known as
Oahu. My husband and I chose a date and a reputable airline specializing
in flights to Hawaii. At the time, my MS
mobility issues necessitated the use of a wheelchair. I notified the airline
about my specific needs, and all seemed perfectly planned. Nevertheless, no one
can possibly plan for what happened next.
What’s That Smell?
All
began as it should with our flight departing on time. However, roughly halfway
through our flight, we received a dreaded message from the pilot: "There
appears to be a gas leak, so we will need to return home." Consider this;
we were 2-1/2 hours into our flight, which meant we would be in the air for the
full five hours and yet no closer to the sunny skies of Hawaii.
Disappointed
as we all were, most remained positive expecting repairs to go quickly.
However, as time clicked by, moods darkened. Dark moods worsened, as we didn't
take off for another five hours.
Fingers Crossed We Land In Hawaii
Once
again seated on the plane, we remained there until arriving in Hawaii. Deplaning hundreds of passengers into a dark
and empty airport in the middle of the night was another drama-filled event.
However, the real drama was about to unfold.
Wait; is That My Brand-New Wheelchair?
Tired,
sore from sitting for over 13 hours in cramped seats we wait for my wheelchair
to be returned to me. What arrived looked more like a pretzel
than a brand-new wheelchair.
At
two in the morning, shocked and nearly in tears, my options were limited to an
airport wheelchair. It was gigantic with tall poles on each side, but it
worked. To this day, I can't keep from chuckling about what other vacationers
thought when they saw me wheeling toward them in that oversized airport-issued
wheelchair.
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