December 10, 2012
I am still struggling from Vertigo from last August. It can really turn your world upside down and it's a lot more complex than I ever knew. But first as if the ordeal at the hospital and Rehab center were not enough last August; my trip home was a traveling nightmare. It was over an hour drive to the airport. I arrived at the curb side check-in only to find that my flight had been canceled. Due to the Vertigo I needed to use a wheel chair to get around. The next flight was not until 7:30 pm. I did get a voucher for lunch and $200 towards another flight plus no charge for my second bag. My son had left after lunch to return home. I had to get a sky cap to take me to the gate. There I sat all afternoon by myself. At one point the place filled up. I was getting ready until they announced the flight was going to San Francisco. I thought about getting onboard but alas the flight was full. Next thing I knew it was past time to board and there were no people. I checked my boarding pass and I saw that the sky cap had taken me to the wrong gate. By the time someone came to take my wheel chair to the correct gate I found the second flight had also been cancelled. Now it is 8:00 pm and the airlines are trying to rebook flights of the last remaining passengers. I discovered being in a wheel chair was not conducive to having a conversation with the ticket agent behind a tall desk or hearing what they were saying.
My flight was rebooked for 7:30 am the next morning. There was a couple with what appeared to be a college age son waiting with me. Now the ticket agent also had to hand out more vouchers for overnight accommodations and dinner. Plus I got another voucher for $150 towards another flight. The airlines told us we were booked for the same flight in the morning and asked the couple if they would assist me in getting to the hotel and getting to my room. Then in the morning assist in getting back. By now I was really exhausted and I was grateful this family took me under their wing. None of us had any baggage. I did have my med bag and some clean underwear. So I got to sleep in the same clothes I had been wearing all day knowing I'd be wearing them again all the next day.
The next morning at 5:00 am my travel angels came to get me for the half hour trip back to the airport. When we got to security I was asked if the family was with me because I was taken to a handicapped only line. My response was today they were part of my family. We got to the concourse area heading to our gate. They were pushing my wheel chair. I was holding my now 3 third boarding pass and was looking at it and saw my gate number started with a letter C and all these gates began with a letter B. So we went to the nearest ticket counter agent to find out where my gate was. We pretty quickly realized that we were not on the same flight at all. Matter of fact my flight was in a different terminal on the other side of the airport. On top of that my flight was in the process of boarding and there was no way I could make it on time. I said goodbye to my travel angels who were on their way to the Midwest for another son's graduation.
As a consequence of fuel costs, airlines have reduced the number of flights. Now I had to reschedule yet another flight for the fourth attempt to get home. In addition, my brother was picking me up in Virginia and helping me get to my car which was at his house. So every flight change meant a call to him who in turn had to change his plans.
Initially the airlines wanted to book me on their next flight which was the same 2:30 afternoon flight I was suppose to take the day before. I told them that I had two flights cancelled and was given the wrong info for a third flight. I insisted that they find me a flight home on a different carrier before noon. The only thing they could do was into a different airport. I insisted again that they get me to the airport where my brother was waiting for me. It would have been about a two hour round trip drive in rush hour traffic. They finally agreed to cover the cost of the hour taxi ride. By the time I got to my car, I still had a 2 ½ drive home.
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