Travelin Fool: January 2010

I was really excited about my trip to San Francisco in August. I hadn't been out there since the previous December and I couldn't wait to see my sister and Mike. I flew out that Wednesday or Thursday morning after working five night shifts in a row and being charge nurse all five of those shifts which in my opinion when you're busy takes a lot out of you. So I came home, showered, and off to the air port we went. I checked in, got through security, was fighting the temptation to close my eyes when overhead they announced "If your connecting flight in Minnesota is after 1pm then come up to the ticket desk, you will not be making your connecting flight." Of course my connecting flight through Minneapolis was at 3. So I go up to the ticket counter, they changed me from a Delta flight to a United Flight, my new connection was through Denver, no biggie. They made a call and assured me that my luggage was being transferred and I left the Delta/Northwest side of the airport in Omaha. I had to exit security, go to the United/Southwest side of the terminal, go through security again, checked in with my gate to make sure the correct changes had been made in the computer and they called to "make sure" my luggage was received. So not only did I have to switch airline companies, transfer luggage, that added an additional four hours onto my wait time. I was exhausted. So it was four in the afternoon before I even left Omaha. I slept on the plane ride from Omaha to Denver, that's usually never a problem. Did the usual shop and then eat thing in Denver (you only have so much time to shop and you can take food to go on the plane is my theory), got onto my flight from Denver to San Francisco and fell back asleep.

Lo and behold I sure did wake up JUST IN TIME to hear the steward announce "If there is a doctor or any healthcare personnel on this flight please press your call light." So my very drowsy self reached up and pressed the call light praying that there was nothing "actually" wrong. I heard the steward go to a lady 2 rows behind me and say "Are you a doctor?" The lady replied, "No, I'm a nurse, but I haven't been practicing for about 20 years....." The man replied, "Okay thank you ma'am." So now it's my turn. The man comes up to me. "Hi, are you a doctor?" I reply, "No, I'm a nurse." And then he has the gumption to ask me, "are you practicing right now?" I was baffled. Do I look old enough to not be practicing? Really? But of course I kindly replied, "Yes." Apparently only two of us rang our call lights because he asked me to come with him. So I get up, stumble down the isle to the back due to both my natural lack of grace and the fact that it's a moving plane. I get to the back and there's a pale, disoriented, diaphoretic (sweating) man holding oxygen to his face. My first thought is CRAP! Apparently the man was walking down the isle to go to the bathroom, "passed out" and got up again, and then "passed out" again. He denied chest pain (hallelujah!!), and said he wasn't diabetic (even though I made him drink some orange juice anyway). He wouldn't lie down (typical man) so I just had him put his head between his knees and keep the oxygen on. Of course there's nothing but oxygen on a plane, his pulse was regular and normal. I asked one of the stewardesses for a cool washcloth, put it on the man's forehead and all of a sudden he kind of snapped awake. He started asking where he was, how he got there, and had no recollection of getting up, and walking back to the bathroom, NOTHING! At one point the pilot called back telling us we were flying over Salt Lake City and asked if we needed to make an emergency landing. I reconfirmed that the gentleman was not having chest pain and we continued on. (Although thinking I could say "yes" and make the call for an emergency landing was pretty awesome.) I sat with him for well over half an hour in the back until he regained some color, wasn't diaphoretic anymore and was oriented. They asked if we should have an ambulance for him when we arrived in San Fran, he said he didn't want to go to the hospital, but would get checked out in the "nurses station" at the air port and call a family member to drive him home, seeking further medical attention if needed. It turned out that he spent three days in Denver, so he was visiting so he was not used to the altitude. He told me that he hadn't been "drinking" but he also hadn't really been drinking a lot of water or anything. Nor had he been getting a lot of sleep or eating the right kinds of foods. I think the combination of altitude, fatigue, poor diet, and then the flying all added up into the sweaty, pale mess of a man I got called back to. I asked for a wheel chair to be waiting there for him when we landed. Finally two men helped him back to his seat, I went back to mine and fell back asleep.

When we landed of course there wasn't a wheel chair waiting for us, they wanted to know if we still needed it, I stayed with him and insisted that we did, he was compliant and agreed. So I sat with him on the plane, he had been journaling what all he remembered that had happened. So he went off in the wheel chair and I went on my way. I arrived at baggage claim, exhausted, and towards the end of the luggage unloading and didn't see my luggage anywhere. I looked, and looked, and looked. Finally I went up to the "crap I can't find my luggage" desk and made my claim, and naturally I couldn't find my luggage ticket with my number to give the lady so she said if I found it to call. I walked away from that desk with tears brimming in my eyes. I was exhausted, I had been delayed, I had done my good deed for the day and now this. I sat in a phone cubby, recollected myself, went through my carry-on and found my ticket. So with a smile on my face I ran up to the "crap I lost my ticket" counter and gave her my luggage number, and then made my way to the nearest Starbucks counter I could find. I deserved my non-fat, decaf caramel macchiato.

Thankfully I received my luggage later in the afternoon the following day after several failed phone calls of "you will receive a call when your luggage is found." And naturally the phone call came five minutes after I left the house that day. Oh well, now I know to pack at least one days worth of clean clothes in my carry-on and a toothbrush.

That Saturday Danielle and I went and got a mani/pedi at this really nice place in Walnut Creek. We were sitting there and between the massaging chair we were sitting in and the being pampered by the staff there I started to fall asleep and awoke to giggles of "is she sleeping?" My sister kindly explained to them "oh she can fall asleep anywhere." It's true....

After Walnut Creek we rode BART to the city, and made our way to Fishermans Warf and Ghiradelli Square. While we were at Fisherman's Warf we went in some of the stores, walked down the Warf, and went and saw where Alcatraz was. As we were making our way back up to the main street this girl stepped back to pose for a picture in front of a store and as she took a step backwards I was taking a step forwards and I slammed my left pinky toe into her shoe followed by immediate limping and face scrunching (of course I was wearing flip-flops). At first I thought oh, I'll just walk it off. Well, we walked.....and walked......and walked.....and it just got more red, purple, and swollen. Poor Danielle was concerned about getting me some pain meds, such a great sister. So we, or I, hobbled over to Ghiradelli Square and it was beautiful! There is this amazing place called Kara's Cupcakes and the cupcakes are made with a little touch of heaven -- no joke! The chocolate icing on one of them feels like silk on your tongue, I kid you not. We had a wonderful afternoon there. Did a lot of walking so by the end of the day my toe was about two to three times its normal size, and had circumfrencial bruising and swelling.

Holy crap! I was looking back through my pictures and I almost forgot the GIANTS BASEBALL GAME!!!! It was SOO cool! The baseball field faces the Bay which is amazing! I got some great pictures and we had a blast. I got chicken instead of a hot dog though, I guess that wasn't very festive of me, but I was in a chicken fingers mood that night. They also have these amazing garlic fries. And I embarrassed Danielle and Mike (like that's never happened before) and bought a foam finger!!! I was very proud of my foam finger. I waved it proudly whenever we got a home run. There was this funny guy behind us who kept saying that we would keep him fro m getting hit by a baseball....not really sure where that stemmed from, perhaps he had a traumatic baseball to the head experience, I dunno. The game was great, there were all kinds of crazy cool vendors. And there was even some shopping! It was perfect! It was cold though, good thing I bought my Giants fleece blanket and took it with me. Oh, I forgot to mention that I was wearing my Giants nike shirt with my nice warm Giants zip-up hoodie. I was fully prepared for my first Giants ballgame. It was awesome!!!

Well, now I know why I take so many pictures....I would clearly forget what all I did on vacation. So I decided to venture out on my own again in the city one day while Danielle was out at work to find the Golden Gate Bridge (GGB). I started very early in the morning because I anticipated that even though I had asked the best way to get to it, I figured I'd allow myself a three hour window to find it. Keep in mind I was doing this all by public transportation and foot. So I got to Ghiradelli Square and started walking some more (takes a bit to get there even). I was trying to get to the Muny which is basically a bus of some sort and you take different numbered Muny's to get different places. Well I was looking for 30 and/or 28. I basically ended up walking until I ran into interstate and couldn't walk any further. Every Muny station I found had every number BUT those two. So I find a bus stop and just wait. I'm not walking on the interstate to the GGB. That's just preposterous. The bus rolls up and I ask if this'll take me to the GGB (even though I see NO 28 or 30) and this man says "yes." So this bus takes me to the GGB, I was very proud that I made it even though I walked all the way to the interstate (many, many, MANY blocks from Ghiradelli Square). So I do my touristy thing and take pictures of all the plaques because I really don't want to read them at the moment. Oh, did I forget to mention it's the humid of all humid days and my hair became a major poof ball while I was walking??? Had to do some poof control, it was bad. Anyways, I finally make my way to the bridge and 2/3's of it is covered in FOG!!!!! I came all this way to see the bridge and all I see is the base? Grrrrrr. So I start walking on it, and I'm doing okay, overcoming my fear of heights, afterall I came a long way to be standing on this bridge. I'm snapping away with my camera, there's a high fence that offers a great sense of security. About 1/4 to 1/3 of the way down the bridge that high fence offering that great sense of security STOPS. And then it's just this lame non-secured walk-way and you're suddenly getting closer to the middle of the bridge and when you're on foot you can feel how that bridge is starting to rock. But being the constant finger-clicking photo-taker that I am, do I turn around and walk back right away and succumb to my fear? Nope! I squat, lean over the lame "rail" or whatever they call it and get some pictures looking down off the bridge, all the while reminding myself to continue breathing. After I got my shots, I then proceeded to hasten my way back to the high fenced area offering me my great security back again. Oh the relief!
After the GGB I hopped on the bus to go to the Golden Gate Park (GGP). The Golden Gate Park has several attractions. I went to the Japenese Tea Garden that took me 45 minutes to find.....using a map. I never have, nor will I ever claim to know how to use a map. Finally I gave in and asked someone, and then I still had to ask someone else after I got lost from the first set of directions. The garden was beautiful, I do wish the sun had stayed out though. That seems to be a recurring theme for me. I took several other pictures as well around the park, took many different paths and pictures. I decided to take a different way out of the park than how I came in, all in the spirit of adventure. So I'm walking, thinking that this one sidewalk would lead me around a different way to the way I came in. Well guess what....it didn't. It took me a completely different way. I tried to stay oriented to which direction I had come from to begin with. (All this walking I'm doing is on my broken toe, maybe that's why it took so long to heal). So I finally find another Muny bus and see that it says 28 or 30 so I'm all proud of myself. I got on that bus, was sitting on it....kept riding....didn't really feel like I was going in the right direction. Turns out I wasn't. I sure was taking a full lap around the city of San Fran and going in the opposite direction of where I wanted to go. Lucky for me one of the stops was at a BART station so I just got off there and took BART back to my original starting spot of the day and started over. It was a good day, but by the end of it I was wiped out.

Sunday we went to church and then met Lisa, Wendy, Bob, his daughter Michelle and her daughter Emma for lunch in Vacaville and did some outlet shopping. It was so good to see Bob and Wendy again! They are too sweet! And Super Bob (what I call him) was hilarious as usual even though we had a terrible waitress. The rest of the visit was wonderful. There was an afternoon where my shirt started unraveling, I left my jacket at the theater, and something else happened, it was clearly not my time to shine. But other than those little "oops" moments I had a wonderful visit. Look forward to going every time! Only now I don't wear flip-flops!!