Post of Drama, Travel Edition
I may have a new candidate for The Trip From Hell.
I was set to fly back to Idaho from Texas on Friday. I had my itinerary number, I knew all my flight info, stuff was packed, I was all set. Shi-chan took the day off from her second job and got a half-day for her first, so she and Awesome Co-worker were able to take me to the airport, as her car is still in the shop. No worries.
No worries until I landed in Phoenix.
I'm not a fan of Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport. They're notorious for changing gates on me, and the place is huge, so no matter where you're going you end up having to run to catch your flight. This time I had my gate number from my ticket, and I was hell-bent on getting there with time to spare.
I did, actually. I was sitting at my gate for a good twenty minutes to half an hour, sending off texts that I'd gotten there, and eating a bag of Doritos. I even talked briefly to Brother, who was currently driving from Idaho to Salt Lake City to pick me up from this flight.
Eventually I was started to worry about my plane not being there yet. So I went to find a flight info board, even though I hadn't remembered seeing one earlier. I did manage to find one, which told declared that my flight was at the next terminal over, and it was leaving in ten minutes.
FUCK.
I ran.
I made it, gasping, panting, wheezing, and with a stitch in my side - silently swearing about how I need to get in shape - to the gate in maybe ten minutes. A calm, disinterested flight attendant told me I'd missed it, to catch my breath, and pointed over to the airline's customer service. I might have cried (especially seeing as the plane was still at the gate, which was why I'd thought I might make it), but I was still trying to breathe.
I got to customer service and managed to explain around some coughing (because I still couldn't get my breath), and the agent went about getting me another flight ... at 7:00am the next morning. The best she could do was give me a voucher for a night in a hotel. Which, seeing as I had $2 left from the money Shi-chan gave me so I wouldn't starve, wasn't going to happen when I had no money for a cab. I was going to be spending the night in the airport.
I sat down to send out some texts, possibly cry, and cough some more, because the coughing was starting to get bad. It felt like I was going to either hack something up or puke. I thought I'd sit for awhile, try to calm down, and the cough would die down and I could breathe easier.
But it didn't.
It was also getting noticeable. Other passengers who'd missed flights were turning to ask if I was okay and looking concerned. One talking to an attendant asked if I wanted them to call the paramedics. I thought about it, but I *still* couldn't breathe, so I said yes. Another guy even went to one of the restaurants across the way to bring me back a cup of water, in hopes it would help.
The customer service ladies stood around talking while I waited for the paramedics. One asked if someone had called them yet, but other than that, they ignored me hacking up a lung in the corner. I'm still rather upset about that.
The paramedics took about fifteen, twenty minutes to get there. (Apparently it takes awhile for them to get into that airport.) They went about checking my vitals, getting a heart monitor on me, checking my blood sugar, asking and questions. My heart rate was ridiculously high - obviously - but the bottom line was that I still COULD NOT STOP COUGHING and breathe.
They asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital. I didn't really, but I argued it in my head for a good fifteen minutes or so. In the end I said yes, because it was the cough that concerned me. It had actually started really early the day before, slowly died down to some wheezing, and had seemed to be gone by the time I got up to start getting ready. Having a history of bronchitis and pneumonia, that's a little concerning. So I finally gave in and said yes.
The ride there was fairly uneventful. The ER on the other hand was full of drama patients; no one badly injured, just people who took up a lot of time while I lay quietly coughing up my lungs and trying to breathe. They did a chest x-ray to see if they could find anything in my lungs, then a CT Scan of my chest, some blood work, and a urine test. A nurse was finally able to get an iv into me - the paramedics had tried three times and failed - but I spurted blood everywhere in the process. (Brother made a comment that I was turning into a DragonballZ character with exploding blood, and I had to admit he wasn't too far off.)
The doctor came in to finally explain that the reason they were doing all these tests was to check for blood clots. (I assumed this was because they couldn't clear me for flight otherwise.) So far all they knew was that I *might* have one.
What they did find is that I am what she called 'dangerously anemic'. As she explained it, they start giving you transfusions when your levels are at 10; mine were at 7.2. x.x We talked about where it might have come from, and I admitted that I had started my period back in the beginning of May - and am still bleeding. (Yes, I KNOW this is a 'WTF why haven't you seen a doctor?!' thing. But I didn't/don't exactly have any way to do so. >.<)
In the end they released me to fly, with a diagnosis of anemia and shortness of breath, which the doctor assumes was caused by the anemia. They gave me breakfast, but no prescriptions or medications. Just warnings not to run or stress my body at all, and to see a gynecologist in the next few days.
They did not, however, make sure that I had a ride back to the airport. The nurse who discharged me said they could call me a cab, but blew it off after I explained I had no money for a cab. So instead I went to the administration waiting room and called Brother, and then asked someone where I could find a Western Union so he could wire me some cab fare. It turned out to be about less than a quarter mile away, but in the shape I was in it took me half an hour to walk there, with frequent stops to catch my breath. Thankfully there *was* a Western Union, and I was able to get $50 from Brother. The cab was there in less than ten minutes and had me heading back to the airport at last. (The first thing the driver said was 'What were you doing in that neighborhood? Don't you know that's a bad part of town?' -_-;;;)
I got into the airport, and headed for the airway's check-in counter to explain my story. I gave them my discharge papers with the clearance to fly, and was given a new ticket - for a plane that was already loading. I rushed to security, flew through in ten minutes, and made it to my gate just in time to be one of the last people on. At that point I collapsed in my seat, made brief small talk with the guy sitting next to me while sending off a text to let people know I was on my way at last, and slept through the rest of the flight straight up until had landed in Salt Lake City and were pulling up to the gate. c.c;;;
After that I found a place to sit and called Brother for the umpteenth time. (Poor guy. He had to work that later night, too.) He got me a ticket for the Salt Lake Express shuttle that runs in this area. I hung out for about an hour, sent more update texts, and hunted down my shuttle stop. Apparently the Salt Lake Airport does not actually label their shuttle stops beyond 'All Shuttles' and people who tell you 'it's the middle lane, all the way at the end', which is misleading. Luckily I was close enough to see it when it arrived.
Of course even the shuttle had to have its drama. >.< The service uses several vehicles, but this time I happened to be on one of the large buses. It overheated three times. The door had trouble shutting. They decided to turn off the AC and crack open the emergency hatch on the roof for air to see if that would help. Awhile later, the hatch blew open. Scaring the shit out of me in the process, as I'd been asleep at the time. It didn't break off, but it still wouldn't close completely later. When I finally got to my stop, I was watching some of the other people who had gotten off with me comment to their friends that they were amazed we'd made it.
And then Brother's mom arrived to pick me up, and bought Tiger's Blood icees for both of us. Have I mentioned how much I love her? ♥
So the latest Trip From Hell is over. I feel like absolute crap and just walking up and down stairs leaves me needing to stop and sit down for a minute. My arms are still sore, I've had a headache since yesterday, I may have to toss a pair of blood-stained jeans, and my headphones had to be replaced. But damn it, I am FINALLY in Idaho again.
I was set to fly back to Idaho from Texas on Friday. I had my itinerary number, I knew all my flight info, stuff was packed, I was all set. Shi-chan took the day off from her second job and got a half-day for her first, so she and Awesome Co-worker were able to take me to the airport, as her car is still in the shop. No worries.
No worries until I landed in Phoenix.
I'm not a fan of Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport. They're notorious for changing gates on me, and the place is huge, so no matter where you're going you end up having to run to catch your flight. This time I had my gate number from my ticket, and I was hell-bent on getting there with time to spare.
I did, actually. I was sitting at my gate for a good twenty minutes to half an hour, sending off texts that I'd gotten there, and eating a bag of Doritos. I even talked briefly to Brother, who was currently driving from Idaho to Salt Lake City to pick me up from this flight.
Eventually I was started to worry about my plane not being there yet. So I went to find a flight info board, even though I hadn't remembered seeing one earlier. I did manage to find one, which told declared that my flight was at the next terminal over, and it was leaving in ten minutes.
FUCK.
I ran.
I made it, gasping, panting, wheezing, and with a stitch in my side - silently swearing about how I need to get in shape - to the gate in maybe ten minutes. A calm, disinterested flight attendant told me I'd missed it, to catch my breath, and pointed over to the airline's customer service. I might have cried (especially seeing as the plane was still at the gate, which was why I'd thought I might make it), but I was still trying to breathe.
I got to customer service and managed to explain around some coughing (because I still couldn't get my breath), and the agent went about getting me another flight ... at 7:00am the next morning. The best she could do was give me a voucher for a night in a hotel. Which, seeing as I had $2 left from the money Shi-chan gave me so I wouldn't starve, wasn't going to happen when I had no money for a cab. I was going to be spending the night in the airport.
I sat down to send out some texts, possibly cry, and cough some more, because the coughing was starting to get bad. It felt like I was going to either hack something up or puke. I thought I'd sit for awhile, try to calm down, and the cough would die down and I could breathe easier.
But it didn't.
It was also getting noticeable. Other passengers who'd missed flights were turning to ask if I was okay and looking concerned. One talking to an attendant asked if I wanted them to call the paramedics. I thought about it, but I *still* couldn't breathe, so I said yes. Another guy even went to one of the restaurants across the way to bring me back a cup of water, in hopes it would help.
The customer service ladies stood around talking while I waited for the paramedics. One asked if someone had called them yet, but other than that, they ignored me hacking up a lung in the corner. I'm still rather upset about that.
The paramedics took about fifteen, twenty minutes to get there. (Apparently it takes awhile for them to get into that airport.) They went about checking my vitals, getting a heart monitor on me, checking my blood sugar, asking and questions. My heart rate was ridiculously high - obviously - but the bottom line was that I still COULD NOT STOP COUGHING and breathe.
They asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital. I didn't really, but I argued it in my head for a good fifteen minutes or so. In the end I said yes, because it was the cough that concerned me. It had actually started really early the day before, slowly died down to some wheezing, and had seemed to be gone by the time I got up to start getting ready. Having a history of bronchitis and pneumonia, that's a little concerning. So I finally gave in and said yes.
The ride there was fairly uneventful. The ER on the other hand was full of drama patients; no one badly injured, just people who took up a lot of time while I lay quietly coughing up my lungs and trying to breathe. They did a chest x-ray to see if they could find anything in my lungs, then a CT Scan of my chest, some blood work, and a urine test. A nurse was finally able to get an iv into me - the paramedics had tried three times and failed - but I spurted blood everywhere in the process. (Brother made a comment that I was turning into a DragonballZ character with exploding blood, and I had to admit he wasn't too far off.)
The doctor came in to finally explain that the reason they were doing all these tests was to check for blood clots. (I assumed this was because they couldn't clear me for flight otherwise.) So far all they knew was that I *might* have one.
What they did find is that I am what she called 'dangerously anemic'. As she explained it, they start giving you transfusions when your levels are at 10; mine were at 7.2. x.x We talked about where it might have come from, and I admitted that I had started my period back in the beginning of May - and am still bleeding. (Yes, I KNOW this is a 'WTF why haven't you seen a doctor?!' thing. But I didn't/don't exactly have any way to do so. >.<)
In the end they released me to fly, with a diagnosis of anemia and shortness of breath, which the doctor assumes was caused by the anemia. They gave me breakfast, but no prescriptions or medications. Just warnings not to run or stress my body at all, and to see a gynecologist in the next few days.
They did not, however, make sure that I had a ride back to the airport. The nurse who discharged me said they could call me a cab, but blew it off after I explained I had no money for a cab. So instead I went to the administration waiting room and called Brother, and then asked someone where I could find a Western Union so he could wire me some cab fare. It turned out to be about less than a quarter mile away, but in the shape I was in it took me half an hour to walk there, with frequent stops to catch my breath. Thankfully there *was* a Western Union, and I was able to get $50 from Brother. The cab was there in less than ten minutes and had me heading back to the airport at last. (The first thing the driver said was 'What were you doing in that neighborhood? Don't you know that's a bad part of town?' -_-;;;)
I got into the airport, and headed for the airway's check-in counter to explain my story. I gave them my discharge papers with the clearance to fly, and was given a new ticket - for a plane that was already loading. I rushed to security, flew through in ten minutes, and made it to my gate just in time to be one of the last people on. At that point I collapsed in my seat, made brief small talk with the guy sitting next to me while sending off a text to let people know I was on my way at last, and slept through the rest of the flight straight up until had landed in Salt Lake City and were pulling up to the gate. c.c;;;
After that I found a place to sit and called Brother for the umpteenth time. (Poor guy. He had to work that later night, too.) He got me a ticket for the Salt Lake Express shuttle that runs in this area. I hung out for about an hour, sent more update texts, and hunted down my shuttle stop. Apparently the Salt Lake Airport does not actually label their shuttle stops beyond 'All Shuttles' and people who tell you 'it's the middle lane, all the way at the end', which is misleading. Luckily I was close enough to see it when it arrived.
Of course even the shuttle had to have its drama. >.< The service uses several vehicles, but this time I happened to be on one of the large buses. It overheated three times. The door had trouble shutting. They decided to turn off the AC and crack open the emergency hatch on the roof for air to see if that would help. Awhile later, the hatch blew open. Scaring the shit out of me in the process, as I'd been asleep at the time. It didn't break off, but it still wouldn't close completely later. When I finally got to my stop, I was watching some of the other people who had gotten off with me comment to their friends that they were amazed we'd made it.
And then Brother's mom arrived to pick me up, and bought Tiger's Blood icees for both of us. Have I mentioned how much I love her? ♥
So the latest Trip From Hell is over. I feel like absolute crap and just walking up and down stairs leaves me needing to stop and sit down for a minute. My arms are still sore, I've had a headache since yesterday, I may have to toss a pair of blood-stained jeans, and my headphones had to be replaced. But damn it, I am FINALLY in Idaho again.