Saturday, March 23, 2013

One of the worst days



Another gorgeous Pacifica day; clear blue skies, slight breeze, wonderful ocean with mist rising into the air; I love living here. I had my plan: Chinese consulate to renew my visa, stop at Costco for gas and a few items, doctor’s office, then to the mall to conduct a mystery shop for dinner.

I left a little later than planned, so I felt rushed to get to the consulate before they closed. Traffic was heavy, like it was nearing rush hour, but it was only 1:20. I found a parking spot only 2 blocks from the consulate, which was good for the part of the city I was in. It was now ten to two and the sign stated no parking from 11-2. There were many other cars parked, so I thought I’d take my chance, but no need to worry. I got half a block and suddenly I realized I didn’t recall grabbing my passport. I checked my pockets and the contents of the envelope in which I had placed my application. Nothing. All that way, all that traffic, for nothing. Back to the car in shame.

                Because of the traffic, I decided to go back a different route, which did seem better. I found a good parking spot at Costco and as I grabbed my wallet to show my membership ID, I realized I DID have my passport. Now I was really kicking myself. How could I have not realized I actually had it on me? Why didn’t I feel it when I searched my pockets? And the whole drive back south I was racking my brain on where I had put it the night before after making the required copies for the application. I just couldn’t remember.










Cloudy


                My brain has been on vacation for a while. It was very bad after my illness in November of 2009. It’s been a long, slow process of healing and feeling like I’m on top of things again.  A few weeks ago, I nearly missed my first trip back to work after thinking it was on a Sunday, when it was actually on a Saturday. I still don’t know how I did that. Now this.

                I felt bad and a bit worried about myself so I called Mom and told her. She laughed, saying she does things like this all the time. I hear that a lot, when explaining odd things I have done in my recovery. But I was never like this. Mom used to always tell me what a great memory I had. I graduated in the top 10% of my class. I’m a smart person. Or I used to be.

                I told Mom I was in Costco to get some mouthwash. I also needed to buy ink for my printer, cash my annual cash back check and stop for gas. I walked around as I talked to Mom and got a few food samples. I found the mouthwash and got in line. Before leaving, I thought I’d treat myself to a mocha freeze. I pulled out of the parking lot to head to the doctor’s office, not half a mile away. I still had 20 minutes, so I parked in the garage with a view of San Bruno Mountain and texted a friend of mine, who I knew would enjoy hearing of my time with trying to renew my visa. He did laugh.

                As I sat in the waiting room, I realized I had left Costco without getting ink or cashing my check. Now I was really feeling stupid. I was also feeling quite tired and while I waited to see the doctor about my sleep apnea, I wondered if there isn’t something more seriously wrong than just, well, “I do things like that all the time, it’s normal.”

                Things checked out OK at the doctor’s. My next stop was the mall. My assignment there was to have dinner at Five Guys to evaluate customer service and timing. I had also received in the mail a week prior a post card from the mall. Turn it in to receive a gold egg and maybe inside will be a $500 prize. Taking a better look at it, I now realized I was in the wrong mall. It was the right mall for the assignment, but the prize was another mall entirely. Not sure how I didn’t realize that, either.

                On the way home, with my failed day still going through my head, I thought about how I now am constantly worrying myself. When I leave for errands, when I leave a hotel room after a layover, when I board a plane or walk into the briefing room before a flight, I’m always feeling like I’m forgetting something. I take careful notes on what time I have to be places and what things I need to take. For weeks I’ve been forgetting to buy aspirin. Last week I went to cook meals for the pilots, turning on the oven without placing the meals in them. It caused me to overcook the meals for the passengers. I think now know what it feels like to be 80! And it’s scary as hell. This constant feeling like I’m forgetting something is stressful. What if I forget something important, like arming doors for takeoff?


                As I drove down Highway 1 towards home I enjoyed the view of the Pacific Ocean as the sun neared the horizon.  The sky was clear and there was now enough mist over the ocean that it rose quite high and created a haze as I looked out to the ocean. The breeze blew this haze on shore to where it nudged into the hills and gave way to the blue sky above. The light on my gas gauge came on. I had forgotten to get gas at Costco. God damn it.

Monday, March 18, 2013

Going back to work hits a bump


March 2, 2013
Being back to work is so bitter sweet. I really missed being on airplanes and mixing with pilots and crew, talking to people from all over the world, making a passenger’s day, staying in hotels and seeing the world. But I’d come to really appreciate my freedom- to do as I pleased whenever I chose to do them.
                The 12 month furlough from work was voluntary- a fact I’d wanted at first to keep from my family. I was still struggling with medical issues stemming from an illness in late 2009, which nearly took my life and was tired of my health always being the driving force in conversations. When I first took the furlough, I felt as if I may not be alive at the end of it. I was constantly tired and run down and there was just an odd feeling that loomed over me like a sinister parrot on my shoulder. I felt like if I didn’t take the time off to work on my health, I’d die, which explains why I also wanted to use my time off to visit friends and family and do some leisure traveling.
                One of the more sinister fingerprints of that illness was how my brain was affected from the 106 degree temperature I suffered. I was having a very difficult time thinking in the months right after I got out of the hospital. It was as if my internal thesaurus no longer worked; I couldn’t think of words and in the middle of a sentence I would completely forget the topic. Many people told me they do that all the time and that it comes with age, but for me, it was new…and terrifying!
                I’ve been doing much better in the past 12 months, but apparently I’m still having some issues with how to read a calendar. As part of returning to work, I received my line of flying (a series of dates and trips) for March. I was very happy with the line I was awarded because it made easing back into that routine easy…with late check-ins, long layovers and for the most part, one leg a day. My first day back was a Sunday. Or so I thought.
                To get ready for my return, I spent Saturday afternoon getting things ready. I packed my suitcases and got my uniform ready. I sat down at my computer to send out some last minute letters and received a confused note from my neighbor, who thought my first flight was Saturday. I was about to set her straight when I thought I’d better check my schedule, just to be sure. I felt the blood leave my face as I realized how wrong I was.
                I looked at the clock; 9:00PM. I had to check in for my flight at 10:15PM. I dropped everything, got dressed, realizing I’d not shaved and would have to look like a bum. I grabbed my bags and shot out the door. I got 10 blocks away and realized I had left my airline ID. It was questionable if I could return home and still make it on time. Surely, I’ve never driven so fast to work in my life!



                This was not how I wanted to start things off with my return to work. As I sat on the employee bus, which seemed to move like molasses, I tried to figure out how I could make such a mistake. I looked at the calendar on my phone, which had Sunday as my first flight. Had I simply recorded the date wrong? I was to attend a party on Sunday morning and was happy when I saw my schedule that I could still attend. What made me think this?
                Even with difficulties getting through security, I still arrived with 5 minutes to spare. My flying partners were relieved I had made it on time after telling them what I had done. I left a message thanking my neighbor for sending a note when being confused about my schedule; had she said nothing I would have missed my first flight back, and that would have been bad. I also thanked the gods for me living so close to work and that I had not put off getting things ready. When I showed up, I was winded and disheveled, something I am used to with this job. So, not much has changed, it seems. Yep, I was back. Just a little more confused.