FICTION STORY, blended from a friends experience.

BACK FROM THE TRIP TO HELL AND BACK

The trip started out like any other, there was excitement in the air, preparations to be made and packing to be done. 

Finally the day arrived.  Everything in place, we were ready to go.  We left in plenty of time for the 2 hour drive to the Vancouver Airport, giving ourselves plenty of time for the check-in and to go through security.  The drive down the Sea to Sky highway was busier than usual for a Sunday, with some unexpected construction delays.  Good thing we had left early.

Nearing the Lions Bay area, we discovered that we had forgotten our tickets.  We had been on the road for 45 minutes by then, what with the delays and all.  Thinking we had plenty of time to spare, we made the decision to head back.  Lucky we did, because sitting there with our tickets was the envelope with our passports and vaccination forms. 

We set off again.  The drive was smooth sailing this time with no delays.  Things were falling into place, or so we thought.  We made good time and got to the Lions Bay area in ½ hour.  We drove past Horseshoe Bay, easily cruising along the Upper Narrows highway towards West and North Vancouver, still confident that we would make it to the airport in plenty of time.  Just then we were pulled over at a roadside radar check.  We had been clocked doing 117 in a 90 km/hr zone.  10 minutes ticked by while the policemen checked us out in his computer and wrote us out a speeding ticket.

Out on the road again, we continued on our way.  We took the Lonsdale exit heading towards the Lions Gate bridge.  The roads were congested and the going was slow for a Sunday.  The reason was clear as we listened to the news on the radio.  The streets were blocked off in downtown Vancouver for the annual Labor Day rally.

Needless to say our confidence was turning into anxiety as we crawled across the Lions Gate bridge and through downtown Vancouver.  No time to stop for a bathroom break, we continued on down south Granville and over the Arthur Lang bridge, the airport now in sight.  We hurriedly said our goodbyes as we got dropped off at the departures level.  After a much needed bathroom break, we made our way to the check-in line, only to discover 10 minutes later that we were in the wrong terminal.  We needed the International departures which was a 10 minute walk.  We made it in 5 with the help of a ride on a golf cart.

The ticket agent informed us that we needed to go directly to our gate as quickly as we could.  The line up for the security check was quite long, so we asked one of the workers if we could go ahead of others as we were in a hurry.  We don’t know if that was what triggered them to do a more thorough search of our hand luggage, further detaining us.  We finally arrived at the departure gate happy to see it still full.  We had made it.  We had a seat, grateful for a much needed rest. 

And this is when the trip from Hell and back really began.  A few minutes later we heard the announcement that the flight from Vancouver to Baltimore via Chicago had been delayed.  It was 2 hours later that we were allowed to board, where we all sat for another hour waiting, no air conditioning, no food and no water.  Then we were all herded off the plane again and had to go to another departure gate, where we sat for another ½ hour before boarding another plane.  Finally with a loud cheer, we were in the air heading for Chicago.  The rest of the flight was uneventful.

We had missed our connecting flight to Baltimore and had another 2 hours wait at the boarding gate for the next flight.  No chance to leave the security area.  Arriving at the Baltimore – Washington International airport, we retrieved our luggage and zipped through customs and immigrations.

We were excited to see the family members that were there to pick us up.  After a much needed bathroom break, we started off on the hour drive to our nieces home.

Monday morning, I was feeling sick.  Tuesday I was feeling worse, luckily no one noticed.  Wednesday and Thursday, I was still feeling lousy but determined to have a good time with the family.  Friday was much the same.  Saturday and Sunday was hell.  I just wanted to be home in my own bed.

Still feeling lousy, Monday was our flight back to Vancouver via Chicago.  Our niece dropped us off at 8 a.m. for our 10:30 flight.  Luggage checked in, successfully through security and sitting at the boarding gate, we heard the announcement that the flight had been cancelled.  Nothing we could do but wait around.  The next flight was 3:30 p.m. which ended up being cancelled also.  We were told that the next flight wasn’t until the next morning at 8 a.m.  After being told that we would have to wait overnight at the airport, we eventually got them to get us a hotel room.  We were told that the hotel bus would pick us up and to wait by the door.  2 hours later the bus arrived and took us – no luggage, as the airline couldn’t find it, to the hotel.  It was now 10 p.m.

We got the bus back to the Baltimore – Washington airport at 6a.m. to be told that the 8a.m. flight was an hour late.  Finally got on the flight to Chicago and made the connection to Vancouver on time, a 6 hour flight.

After 31 hours from Monday morning to Tuesday night when we landed in Vancouver, it was now grossly obvious to everyone that I was really sick and I was put into quarantine for 48 hours where I was treated for a bladder infection and dehydration.

The humane society investigated my owners to determine if I should be removed from their care.  It was determined that the long waits without bathroom breaks caused the bladder infection and that the flight delays and circumstances were beyond my owner’s control.  I was eventually reunited with my owners and finally got to sleep in my own bed again.

By Lynn Keeling  April 8, 2009