Travel

Over the last 19 days I have spent approximately 30 hours on airplanes…specifically, Delta operated airplanes. Normally I could care less about being on a plane but I've got to be honest…I am so tired of rude flight attendants and rude passengers.

On the 10.5 hour flight from JFK to Istanbul, we had the most incredibly rude flight attendants. Any time we asked for something, they bit our heads off. We ordered vegetarian meals - Delta says they have a whole plethora of vegetarian options - haha! When we got our main courses, there were no sides - no salads, no cookies, no water…nothing! Zip! And then, after picking up the meal service, they completely disappeared.

Returning from Istanbul to JFK was not much better flight attendant wise. I was snoozing, got jostled awake by the male flight attendant who was bringing me my lunch - except it wasn't mind - and, he wanted to argue with me about it! Sorry, I did not order a "muslim" meal! Really! We ordered one "Asian vegetarian meal" and one "dairy acceptable vegetarian meal" - but guess what, they were absolutely the same! I don't mind that they were absolutely the same but don't tell me I have an option for a different kind of vegetarian meal when I don't. Again, we were given little packets of food - no salad (which we had to ask for), no cookies (which we didn't bother with) and…no water!

Okay, Delta, I know you are hurting -that $549m profit (excluding special expenses) must just not be enough! Is it asking too much to hire nice flight attendants? Is it asking too much to make sure your flight attendants are customer service oriented? I am polite, I'm not demanding but really continue to feel like the flight attendants (at least those I have flown with lately) feel like they are doing me a huge favor by even serving me anything at all! I feel like they have got the general malaise I see all over the USA - "what are you going to do for me now?"

My other issue comes from buying tickets, reserving seats and then finding out, when I check in to the flight that the equipment has been changed and my exit row seats are no longer existent. Well they are still there but I do not get to have them, even though I had them to start with. I don't understand why, when you change equipment Delta, you can't honor my seat request. My sky miles status isn't that high (my husband's is) but I am Silver and I do get to access premium seats - at least that's what I think. Preferred seat selection is supposed to be one of the highly touted but few benefits I get for flying at least 25,000 miles a year on Delta. Instead, my exit row aisle seat turned into a middle seat on a plane that even I didn't have room to move around in.

But there were two incidents on my return trip from Minneapolis to Atlanta. A very large man was sitting on the aisle directly across from me; an equally large woman came in and had the window seat; a skinny little guy had the middle seat…about two minutes into the flight, the rude guy in front of the very large man laid his seat back into the man's lap! Unbelievable. This guy had bulkhead seats - plenty of space. He laid right down in the lap of the very large man! The very large man could not move, he could not get up without almost pulling the other guy's seat completely down. When we landed, the guy sitting right behind me opened one of the overhead bins and something fell out and hit a lady in the head. Unfortunate, sure. But the lady wanted the man's information so she could sue him if she needed to! Good for him - he apologized but refused to give her his information. Talk to Delta he said! Haha.

I am going to post stories from Istanbul, I promise. Pictures too maybe one day…

Cassie

We lost Cassie today - we will miss her more than she could ever know. She loved vanilla wafers, Joe, Lesley and Andy. Oh yeah and popcorn!

I don't have a picture of Cassie and Lesley…maybe Lesley does!

The Aftermath

I've been home from Bogota for a week now…unfortunately I have been sick as all get out for a week. Being sick isn't something I do well - but this time I managed to get it all right. Started slow - a little cough/runny nose on Saturday, moving to a fever on Sunday and then by Monday- all hell broke lose. I played tennis Sunday morning - played badly then got in the pool. Probably didn't help my sickness too much.

Spent Sunday lazing around - achy, nasty…Tim was home briefly Sunday. Monday I went to the pool - achy body and all - it was freezing, but felt good. Came home crashed. By Tuesday I was coughing so bad my entire body hurt - my head, my ribs - everything.

On the way home from the pool Wednesday morning I stopped at the grocery store and talked to the pharmacist - he fixed me up with Mucinex DM and an antihistamine. I was also determined to get something to eat - went to my favorite soup/sandwich place all the way down in Buckhead - Souper Jennys - and inhaled a bowl of gazpacho - it was sooo good - just spicy enough, cold. Homemade pitas with sprouts and homemade hummus.

On the way home from lunch, after the 7th hour of straight unproductive coughing, I stopped at CVS and purchased the strongest over the counter cough suppressant available. Sat in the parking lot there and took the stuff. My daughter thought I might have an issue!

Homemade remedies were absolutely the freaking best though. Since I blame my disease on travels to South America, my friend recommended a South American remedy: rum, honey and lemon juice. So, the rum was 27 year old Guatemalan rum, the honey was wildflower and the lemon fresh squeezed. The first night my first honey/lemon:rum proportions were off - required more rum. Second night I got the proportions exactly right, which were, of course based on the more rum to honey/lemon measurements…I wanted more. Didn't do it, of course but it was sure good. Other remedy I used was a fabulous hibiscus tea, I was first served at the USAID office in Bogota. Soooooo good.

Its now Friday - I'm feeling 100% better - still coughing, but not nearly so bad. Tim is sick!

Fleas

This time it was the fleas. More specifically, las picaduras de pulgas - flea bites. And, I know my translation is probably not accurate. But I wanted to make sure that I didn't ever forget that phrase. Flea bites!

Yo Mujer has a flea infestation in the residencia. They are in the mattresses, in the bed linens, biting the people who live there. Using the term bite here is relative - it's more like an all out attack, a complete battalion assault.

When I first saw Moise (he's two years old) he was crying and scratching, holding his arms out to his Mom. I don't know if he was telling her he was hurting or if he wanted her to scratch his arms but she pulled the long sleeves of his jacket down over his arms and rubbed them. I asked what was wrong. She said pulgas. (My Spanish is limited and I didn't really know what pulgas were, so I found Carlos, he explained that they were flea bites.) Then she pulled up the sleeves of his jacket, the legs of his pants and showed me the bites, hundreds of them, all over this little guy.

Then she raised the back of her shirt and showed me her bites. Again, hundreds…all over her. Amelia came over to show me her bites - hundreds - all over her arms, her back, her legs. Some of the bites had been scratched so much that they were open sores. Some had become infected. Slowly other women and children came over to show me how they had been bitten. Then they told me that the pulgas were in their beds, and everywhere, that there were so many they were picking them up off the beds and killing them with their finger nails.

This was so disturbing to me - completely devastating. Poor people forced away from their homes, living in a place they don't know, can't afford, with no food, no medicine, no schools - and then fleas.

I didn't know what to do or say! Completely at a loss.

My mind went into overdrive. How would I handle this if I were at home? What would I do?The next day I went to the drogueria/farmacia in Sierra Morena (the neighborhood of Ciudad Bolivar) where we are working and asked for an antibiotic creme. There was none. So, forget about stopping infections. There was Caladryl. I bought two bottles and took it out to Yo Mujer.

When we arrived Moise, obviously becoming a little more comfortable with the strangers who had come to his temporary home, came up to me, crying as he pulled up the sleeves of his jacket. I gave the lotion to one of his aunts for her to put on his arms - I wasn't sure he would trust me enough. She rubbed the lotion on his little arms, pulled his sleeves down. For a while he stopped crying, scratching. I tried to convince some of the others to use the lotion, a few did, a few were not willing to try it.

On the way home we stopped at Exito (the WalMart of Bogota) for some things, among them antibiotic cream, perhaps a different type of anti-itching creme and maybe a bug bomb or spray to use in the residence. There was none. Nothing at all that I could find to eliminate the fleas in the house. Nothing I could do to make Moise's bites go away and to prevent them from returning. Nothing.

That sense of helplessness is something I don't understand. Why is it that people who have already experienced such tragedy and such devastation must be assaulted again? When I even see an ant in my house, I call the bug guy and he comes over and takes care of it. My dog doesn't have fleas because I have her treated at the vet. I have money for solutions, Moise and his family don't.

The images of the faces of these children and their bodies covered with bites will stay with me for a long time. I am still devastated.

Some of the bites

Some Very General Randomness

Today I went to the grocery store. Actually, today I went to two grocery stores. I go to at least one grocery store everyday. I go to the store because I need fresh veggies/fruits almost every day. Today I am making succotash - with corn, fresh beans (lima beans and pink lady peas), fresh tomatoes (they didn't have mixed heirloom cherry tomatoes so I bought mixed heirloom regular tomatoes) - but all that required two different grocery stores. I will probably mix the succotash with some whole grain pasta or grains or some sort. But, I also bought bread that is made from beer.

I've also been hungry a lot lately - I'm trying not to eat as much…constant gnawing hunger. I'm not a skinny girl (no desire to be a skinny one - just a healthy curvy one) so it doesn't hurt me to be hungry. But, it makes me think of those who can't just spend a day to go to the grocery store in search of mixed heirloom cherry tomatoes.

I'm over the summer heat. I shower, walk outside, sweat, change clothes, sweat some more, probably go get in the pool which is tepid at best - but the relief from the heat lasts a little longer than a shower. Unfortunately, I can't spend my entire day in the pool. I could try, I suppose!

We played tennis yesterday - mixed doubles. First round of playoffs. Tim and I have not had a very good season this year. We have won twice and lost three times. I'm thinking that we should not play together next season. But I don't know who I should play with and I'm not sure who Tim would play with. He gets frustrated with me, I notice it and it gets in my head. I hate when that happens. It was so hot on the tennis court yesterday and I was sweating so much that one time I was going to hit a ball and had a big stream of sweat roll right in my eyes. It was impossible to see the ball. It took me the entire day to get over the heat, the sweating…I went in the pool, that helped, then I spent the afternoon in the house, in the air conditioning.

Cassie is doing well. She is moving great, still sleeping most of the day, diarrhea basically under control. She's a funny lady. I had dog/house sitters come to take care of her when Tim and I went to Minneapolis. She did fine with them. I'm sure she enjoyed having someone here to visit with. Sirpa came over and took Cassie out in the afternoons. I'm trying to get a handle on Tim's schedule so that we can coordinate dog care - if I'm gone and he's gone we need to have someone here to help Cassie!

Gonna go cook.

Cassie

Cassie has been sick, again. She had diarrhea over the weekend, I stopped giving her the duramaxx (the meds she takes for arthritis) and switched her back to a very gentle diet - remember the BRATY diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast and yogurt) that we gave our kids when they got diarrhea? Monday morning she was her great usual self - outside for a walk, breakfast. But by Monday afternoon, she couldn't walk. She had a huge limp - seemed to me like it was on her front right side. So, in order for me to get her outside I have to pick her up and carry her out. I'm kind of strong, but she's 65 pounds and not too happy to be picked up so, I'll say it's a challenge to carry her out to go to the bathroom. She was able to walk a little. But clearly was out of sorts. I called Lesley - sad meltdown. She called Joe - but he pretty much already knew because he has been here all summer and he and I have talked about Cassie's situation and how to tell when it's time. Lesley finally got Andy and they decided that they felt very very very strongly about being here if I was going to put Cassie down. So strong in fact that they had decided they wouldn't talk to me if I put her down without them being here…not a good thing (well, or maybe it could be a good thing!!! - haha).

By Tuesday morning, when I went in to get Cassie early (I have pilates early on T/TH mornings through this week) she was really out of it. I picked her up, took her out to pee and she tipped over and rolled down the hill…it was so fucking sad. I had to go right her and bring her back in - no pee. She couldn't stand up at all. I went to pilates, came home, hoping for a miracle - there was none. So I called the vet, I couldn't control myself and was crying as I was trying to talk to the lady at the vet's office. They got Cassie in right away. I picked her up again, put her in the Escape and drove her to the vet with the complete intention of putting her down. Again, the emotion of it all just had me a complete mess. I sat in the floor with Cassie, brushing her with my hands and collecting all her fur. Figured that if I did end up putting her down, then I would have lots of puppy fur to send to Lesley and Andy - maybe then they wouldn't be so upset with me. Doc comes in - we talk about Cassie - he takes her temp and she has a fever - he felt that maybe she had an infection. I asked him what he would do…we talked some more about Cassie's demeanor before Monday - she was up, she was around, going for her walks, etc. He thought we had several options - I chose the one where we treated her with an antibiotic, fluids and a shot of rimadyl for her hips. Long day yesterday - she was listless, lethargic, not peeing, not eating…I went to the store and bought ground chicken breast, cooked that and some rice. Joe handfed her some of the chicken and some mini nilla wafers (I swear there is something restorative in those mini nillas). Still no success with getting her to pee and she was still unable to walk - Joe carried her out once and then I tried again…nothing.

This morning she barked to tell me it was time to get up. I bought puppy "wee wee pads" - that's really their name - she had peed - fortunately on the wee wee pad - and was anxious to get up and go outside. She is still hobbling but I didn't have to carry her and yea, she peed outside! I'm talking to the vet right now to see what he wants me to do today. Hopefully he will give her one more antibiotic injection and one more rimadyl injection. And, vet says yes - so I have a 9:45 appointment!

Andy and Lesley are coming home this weekend to see her. I'm physically trashed - my shoulders, upper back, lower back…all incredibly sore and tight!

Joe leaves today.

cassie

Tonight I took my dog Cassie for a walk as I have done almost every day for 14 years. Well, except for the time that my daughter was home and she took over the evening dog walking chores. As I helped Cassie get up, to get all four feet under her, she knew we were going for a walk and she was excited. She moved quickly to the rug at the front door, waited patiently for me to put her leash on and then we both went out the front door. We used to go out the back door but Cassie doesn't like going down those steps any more. The front steps are a little gentler on her. As we got down the steps her back hips sort of zigged of their own accord. But she used her tail, very effectively I might add, as a rudder to right things.

It all of a sudden dawned on me that, all things said, I'm watching my dog as she is entering the last phase of her life. I thought of that book I've heard of that I always thought was very poignant but incredibly silly - the lessons you learn from your dog - you know the one about unconditional love, always ready for a walk, faithful…

I realized that my hope is that when I enter the last phase of my life that I am as full of grace and clever as she is. She barks at us when she wants attention, when she wants me to get up with her in the morning. I get irritated that it's a little too early but when I walk into her bedroom (she sleeps in the laundry room) there she is, happy, tail wagging. She struts out the front door looking, sniffing - catching all the new scents of the morning. I still get the puppy breakfast dance when we come in and she's ready for breakfast. During the day, at least once of twice, she comes to find me in my office, or the kitchen - or she starts barking because she wants to know where we are and I suspect she realizes that her barking drives us crazy and that we will come to find her to see what's going on. If she's in pain, you wouldn't know it - it doesn't make her cranky or stop her from wanting to be a part of everything - including lying right smack in the middle of the kitchen floor during dinner preparations so that, without a doubt you have to acknowledge her presence as you try not to step on her. If she's in pain, she's not willing to miss out on our walks. If she's in pain it doesn't show when she wants to greet everyone that walks in our home with a sniff and a tail wag - sometimes a bark.

Tonight as we walked, she sniffed, I admired the amazing fireflies and one of those Georgia nights that you can feel smell. Our walk was slow. We met a friend, chatted for a while - Cassie laid down and waited patiently for us to be finished with our conversation then we returned home. Walking slowly, Cassie sniffing all the great spots on the way home using her tail as her rudder.

I hope I am half as pleasant as my Cassie. I hope that I have the grace my dog has when it's my turn.