The airport was a good hour away in the busy morning traffic
and I still had to shower, pack my case and order a taxi. What should I do
first? I was like the man who jumped on his horse and galloped off in all
directions at once! I had twisted my knee a few days before and it was causing
me a bit of discomfort not to mention a great deal of distraction. Should I take my crutches? No! How can I lug a suitcase while balancing on crutches?
Still dripping wet and with suitcase in hand I climbed into
the taxi and asked him to get me to the airport a.s.a.p. He didn’t speed but he
was expert at getting ahead of the busy traffic. It was all going fairly well
until we hit the motorway. Bumper to bumper backed up to the back-of-beyond! I called my friend and told him
that I wouldn’t make the flight. I phoned someone to have me put on the next
soonest flight to Sydney. Bummer!We must have broken some sort of record for getting to the airport through rush-hour traffic but alas! It was too late as the check-in closes at least half an hour before boarding. I felt like old Chester in Gunsmoke must have felt as he limped as fast as he could to warn Marshal Dillon of some impending danger in Dodge City! It is all fancy computer-booking and checking-in of baggage at Qantas in Brisbane Airport. A nightmare for a troglodyte like me! However, I did pluck up enough courage to ask the nice young airport lady to assist me with all of that technical stuff. Glory be! The flight I was supposed to be on had been delayed and she was able to get me on my original flight! Woohoo! (multiplied by ten!)
I limped through the airport security metal scan and replaced my belt, mobile phone, keys etc. and met with my friend and we sat and drank coffee in the fancy Qantas
lounge of which he is a gold-card-holding member. My heat-rate slowed down to my usual rate (which is that of a lizard's on a cold morning!) I sometimes wonder if I'm alive at times and love it when I feel my heart beating after completing some adrenalin feat. Yeah, like just before I twisted my knee playing indoor-soccer and they carried my off in excruciating pain. I was full of life-in-abundance until my knee decided it didn't want to be on my team anymore! I digress... As you do I used “the wee boy’s room” before we headed towards the boarding gate. “Rats! Where’s my wedding ring?” I love those new Dyson hand-driers where you place your hands into the thing and the air actually dries your hands! How original! Beats hands down those useless hair-dryer things that only pretend to but never really dry your hands. I digress again... Anyway, alas! My thirty-four year old wedding ring was not there! Did someone see it and pick it up? Did they hand it in somewhere? Cripes! I dawned on me that my wife would be wondering what I was up to when she discovered I’m not wearing my ring! Why do the innocent have to feel guilty when they are still innocent? Anyway, I didn’t have to explain too much as it turned out that I had left my ring on my dresser at home. My wife just wondered why I hadn't put it on before I left. Well, a hurried and harried person tends to be an addled person.
When I arrived at the conference I was assigned a room about
a kilometre away from the venue and it would involve a bit of walking back and
forth sometimes in the dark. Dragging my suitcase behind me I limped back and asked for a room next to the venue. I was
upgraded and now had a room that included Wifi and an ensuite! This I appreciated very much but my knee didn't appreciate the long walk. However, the extra pain was a small price to pay for the extra creature comforts!
I’m always amazed at how God looks after a numbskull like
me!
