Nothing Like Airports to Make you Feel Your Age
Our trip to San Antonio and the Epicon started out bad right from the beginning. On Wednesday evening our water well developed a geyser. Hubby had to stay home to deal with it. We have to have water.
Disappointed, but still determined to go--after all, I had airline tickets, hotel room and paid for the conference. I was up at 2 and by 3:30 a.m. had driven to daughter, Lisa's, who kindly drove to the airport. I felt like we were really early, arriving about 5:15 a.m. I thanked her, grabbed my luggage and headed inside.
I was able to use the computer gizmo to print out the boarding passes, two. I headed to the already crowded security screening area--took out my computer, all my toiletries in the little baggie, took off my sweater and shoes, the thing I hang around my neck and put everything in the little bins, hoisted my suitcase up on the conveyer belt, put in the boarding pass to get on the first plane, and stepped confidently up to the x-ray machine. Well, I have no idea what did it, but I got pulled out to be patted down. I didn't even have tissues in my pockets. Finally I was released.
Went to gather up all my belongings and the boarding pass for the first plane was missing. The security people looked for it, but it had disappeared. At the desk for the gate a new one was printed out for me.
Plane to fly to Houston was fairly good sized. No food despite it being a 3 hour flight though they served beverages a few times--which of course means a trip to the tiny bathroom.
My troubles increased when I arrived at Houston. Discovered my next gate was miles away and I had about 15 minutes to get there. I hurried as fast as I could with my two carry-ons knowing I was probably not going to be able to make it. When I'd dashed down two very long corridors, turned a couple of corners all of a sudden I faced an escalator. No way can I do escalators with my carry-ons. I have to hang on.
Something happened to me right then. My heart started pounding and I began to sweat. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. My thought was, "I'm going to die and no one will know where the heck I am."
A lady who was waiting with two people in wheelchairs asked, "Are you okay?"
I said, "No."
She grabbed another wheelchair and stuck me in it. I told her I was probably going to miss my plane. She got on her walkie-talkie and called someone to come for the other people and rushed me to the elevator (which I'd failed to see--but it wouldn't have helped me really since I couldn't move fast enough). At the next floor was a train and she put me on that and made another call. When we got off, a cart was waiting for me. The drive looked at my boarding pass and told me to climb aboard and he put my stuff on the cart. He drove me to my gate where everyone was already going in. If I hadn't had all the help, I never would have made it in time.
I had a chance to calm down on the next 30 minute flight to San Antonio. I found the place for transportation and decided to take a taxi. The taxi dropped me off at the hotel, but not in the right place. I had to walk around the block to find the entrance to the hotel.
Fortunately, once I found the front desk, everything well okay from there. Ran into good friends right off who described the layout of the hotel. Went to my room, dropped off my stuff, and headed for the restaurant for a very late lunch. (No food all day, remember?)
I have to tell you, I felt everyone of my almost 79 years during that rush to catch my airplane.
The rest of the weekend was wonderful and I was back to feeling much, much younger--as I do most of the time.
Disappointed, but still determined to go--after all, I had airline tickets, hotel room and paid for the conference. I was up at 2 and by 3:30 a.m. had driven to daughter, Lisa's, who kindly drove to the airport. I felt like we were really early, arriving about 5:15 a.m. I thanked her, grabbed my luggage and headed inside.
I was able to use the computer gizmo to print out the boarding passes, two. I headed to the already crowded security screening area--took out my computer, all my toiletries in the little baggie, took off my sweater and shoes, the thing I hang around my neck and put everything in the little bins, hoisted my suitcase up on the conveyer belt, put in the boarding pass to get on the first plane, and stepped confidently up to the x-ray machine. Well, I have no idea what did it, but I got pulled out to be patted down. I didn't even have tissues in my pockets. Finally I was released.
Went to gather up all my belongings and the boarding pass for the first plane was missing. The security people looked for it, but it had disappeared. At the desk for the gate a new one was printed out for me.
Plane to fly to Houston was fairly good sized. No food despite it being a 3 hour flight though they served beverages a few times--which of course means a trip to the tiny bathroom.
My troubles increased when I arrived at Houston. Discovered my next gate was miles away and I had about 15 minutes to get there. I hurried as fast as I could with my two carry-ons knowing I was probably not going to be able to make it. When I'd dashed down two very long corridors, turned a couple of corners all of a sudden I faced an escalator. No way can I do escalators with my carry-ons. I have to hang on.
Something happened to me right then. My heart started pounding and I began to sweat. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. My thought was, "I'm going to die and no one will know where the heck I am."
A lady who was waiting with two people in wheelchairs asked, "Are you okay?"
I said, "No."
She grabbed another wheelchair and stuck me in it. I told her I was probably going to miss my plane. She got on her walkie-talkie and called someone to come for the other people and rushed me to the elevator (which I'd failed to see--but it wouldn't have helped me really since I couldn't move fast enough). At the next floor was a train and she put me on that and made another call. When we got off, a cart was waiting for me. The drive looked at my boarding pass and told me to climb aboard and he put my stuff on the cart. He drove me to my gate where everyone was already going in. If I hadn't had all the help, I never would have made it in time.
I had a chance to calm down on the next 30 minute flight to San Antonio. I found the place for transportation and decided to take a taxi. The taxi dropped me off at the hotel, but not in the right place. I had to walk around the block to find the entrance to the hotel.
Fortunately, once I found the front desk, everything well okay from there. Ran into good friends right off who described the layout of the hotel. Went to my room, dropped off my stuff, and headed for the restaurant for a very late lunch. (No food all day, remember?)
I have to tell you, I felt everyone of my almost 79 years during that rush to catch my airplane.
The rest of the weekend was wonderful and I was back to feeling much, much younger--as I do most of the time.
Comments
You are more than welcome, Moon_Pie.
Thank you, Ricky.