I get to the Albuquerque airport around 5 am, as my flight is scheduled to leave at 6 am. Nothing unusual about my day so far. I get some water, get my book out and sit at the gate. Around 5:45, I hear an announcement that there are some technical issues with my plane, and we're going to be delayed about an hour! Well, that was settled, I was going to miss my flight! I went to the counter and the woman told me the 2:20 was booked, so she would hold me a spot on the 6 pm! 6 pm! I cried! That's nine hours in the airport! At this point, I should drive home, in my new bug that I think I'm planning on keeping. Well, I'm still optimistic. I'm a sucker like that.
The plan arrives at 9:20 am on the dot. My connection is at 9:25, but I'm hopeful it's a little delayed. After all, both flights to Albuquerque were, my first one back was also, plus there's the snow issue. So, I'm thinking, maybe, just maybe I can make it!
I get off the plane and I start hauling ass. Full out, balls out sprinting through the airport.
Suddenly, and the details here are a little murky, I find myself heading toward the ground. As I see the floor rushing up to meet me, the thought running through my head is "wow, this is going to be embarrassing." I don't manage to catch myself and I slam hard into the floor. As soon as I made contact, there was no room for thoughts of embarrassment, all thoughts were turned to intense, excruciating pain like I don't remember ever feeling before. Some kind strangers help me up, and my knees, shoulder, hands and head are all throbbing. I sort of half jog/half miserably walk to my gate, and of course, the plane has left.
At this point, I start crying. Well, I went into a little corner and start bawling. I'm in intense pain, I have 9 hours to spend in the airport and I'm a hot mess. A good cry always makes you feel better, well, sometimes anyways.
After I calm down a little bit, I go back to the desk, and she informs me there is in fact seats available on the 2:20. I am mixed between relief at not having 9 hours at the airport, and livid because I probably wouldn't have been in such a panic mode if I'd known there was this earlier flight.
The woman at the American Airlines counter was very helpful. She got me some bags and filled them with ice, and I spent the next four hours alternating between icing my knees, my shoulder, and walking so my knees didn't get stiff.
Finally 2:20 rolls around and I board the plane. Once the plane is loaded, we're sitting there and the captain makes an announcement.
"By now, you're probably wondering why we haven't taken off yet (it's 2:45). The maintenance people found an issue and we'll need to replace a part. If it's in inventory, it should take about an hour to get replaced. If it's not, this plane will be out of service."
Are. you. kidding. me!?
Thank the Good Lord they had the part, only about an hour and 15 minutes delay for my second flight of the day. Seriously, why is the 9:25 am flight the only one all weekend that left on time?
I get back to Richmond, and one would think I'd made it home safely. No such luck! I now have to brace the snow and the terrible plowing job that Richmond does to make it back home. With a bum arm. At this point, my shoulder was aching. I didn't have much movement in my shoulder, so it was a little difficult to drive, especially considering the road condition. L and D both did offer to come pick me up, very sweet, but I needed my car so I could get to the doctor's tomorrow! Something is wrong with my shoulder.
I finally made it home safely. And there was a small light at the end of the tunnel. There was a parking space shoveled out smack dab in from of my house. I would have felt guilty except for the fact it was exactly in front of my house. So I took it, got drugged up on some Tylenol PM and hit the sheets.
Stay tuned for Monday, also known as the Day After.
Here's a picture of my knee. Lovely, isn't it?
And don't worry, my shoulder hurts worse than this looks!