Probably the best day of July!
Friends are important
Thank you for being a friend
The true loves of life
It’s been a while and I know you’re all dying to know how me and my jacked up foot are doing. So I’ll indulge you.
Traveling while on crutches and not really able to bear weight is awful. We left Friday morning for Dubai. I hadn’t had a lot of time on the crutches and found it pretty exhausting to get around the airport. The woman who checked us in got me a wheelchair and that was probably the smartest thing we did that day. There’s a lot of waiting time once you check in for an international flight and in most of the airport in Doha, you don’t really get to sit while you do it. I don’t know if they’re trying to make you walk around and shop, but you don’t get to sit. When you’re being assisted though, they have a “lounge” for you to hang out in, filled with mostly empty chairs.
Navigating the aisles of plane on crutches should be an Olympic sport. I didn’t get put on first, so I had to deal with people being around me and probably irritated that I was going slowly. I also booked us into the back of the plane which was not a brilliant idea in retrospect. I obviously believed I’d be a lot more mobile than I actually was.
As I was getting off the plane in Dubai, I moved aside to let someone get past me, and I tweaked my Achilles. It was a nice sharp pain and it immediately brought tears to my eyes. It did not help that I hadn’t really slept the night before and was completely exhausted. They brought a wheelchair down the jetway for me and got me through passport control fairly quickly. Then we were on the way to the hotel.
Getting out of the taxi and up the curb was pretty funny. I hadn’t yet mastered stairs and required a lot of assistance to get up. Once inside the hotel I sat while we checked in. We got booked fairly close to the elevator so I didn’t have to hop around too much. My foot was pretty damn swollen and in pain by this point. But, I had to work, so there was no sleeping. This did not bode well for the next leg of our trip.
I was hella tired when I got up the next day to fly to Brazil. I hadn’t gotten even three hours of sleep and was super cranky. Insert a “Poor Mr. Lyndsy” here.
I barely made it to the counter at the airport. They brought me a wheelchair pretty quickly though and wheeled us through a bunch of different places and elevators to get us to the “lounge” for assisted passengers.
What got interesting was that the plane wasn’t on a jetway. They asked if I could take stairs and Rodrigo quickly told them now. This meant I had to be loaded into a cargo container and driven to the plane instead of taking a bus with everyone else. They raised the container up and I got onto the airplane on the opposite side that everyone else entered. It was hilarious. I’ve never been that close to an engine before.
I made the mistake of booking myself into a middle seat for the 14-hour flight. I hate a middle seat anyway, but when you’re trapped in a boot, it’s pretty much like torture. Mr. Lyndsy and I are both tall and pretty wide (not in a fat way really – at least him) so we were all up on each other during the flight. I hate being in bodily contact with someone for so long. The guy in front of me kept his seat reclined THE ENTIRE FLIGHT. His traveling partner was a complete bitch about my crutches waiting near her seat to be taken to the back and where my bag was.
Landing in Brazil has probably been the happiest I’ve been in a long time. As soon as the guy next to me got off the plane I lunged for his seat to give me and Mr. Lyndsy some space. I moved to the middle row of seats once most of the plane cleared out so Mr. Lyndsy could get our bags. They pretty much had a wheelchair waiting for us once we were ready to get off. We got pushed through the shortest line at passport control and were finally free of airports for a while!
Some days are better than others in terms of whether I can put more weight on my leg or not. I went for a walk today without the crutches and will now be using crutches for the rest of the day. My foot is screaming at me. The damn thing is pretty swollen too. Long flights do that to my right foot apparently. We’ve been icing it on and off to try to help the swelling, but the effect has been moderate at best. Some swelling doesn’t seem like it wants to go down…
Here’s the Frankenfoot: