Karl (louderback) wrote,

2006.355 traveling and prognosis

Today's Lyric: "Though I know that evenin's empire has returned into sand,
Vanished from my hand,
Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping.
My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming."
Mr. Tambourine Man
Bob Dylan

         This is probably the first of multiple updates today. I slept poorly overnight and am feeling very stressed for no reason I can pinpoint.

         I spoke with lutron last night. He is in good spirits. The news about his injury is all pretty positive. He'll keep his finger, have the restorative surgery next week then begin the tedious process of physical therapy. Given that the injury itself is an awfully bad thing, the news is as good as could be expected. Prognosis positive!

         My son Joe and his wife Lisa were on their way to Seattle last night to spend Christmas with the in-laws when their travel was interrupted by the blizzard in Denver. They are stuck at the airport until tomorrow at least. They are lucky to be at the USO. They can snooze in reasonably comfortable chairs and have little fear of someone taking their stuff. Such cannot be said for the folks sleeping on the floor in the rest of the airport. I am really glad I don't trave anymore.

"I hate traveling," said the large man with the luggage cart in tow. I hear that a hundred times a day and always try to respond, "I quite understand, Sir." I don't imagine it comforts anyone. I picked up his first piece of luggage from the cart and placed it on the scanner. It slid away then disappeared down the slide. He began the rant, they all do it, "I don't understand why traveling has to be so difficult." As I told them all, I told him, "It's for your own safety sir." I slid his next bag into the scanner and he handed me his shoes while fumbling with his belt. He ranted on, "I just think the precautions are absurd given all the other conditions." I kept loading baggage and trying to soothe, "Well Sir, the regulations are what they are... we all have to live with them." He wrinkled his nose and handed me his pants, "I suppose so." I put his last bag through the scanner and collected his clothing over my arm. I would fold it for him, but I thought it best to get things done without making him wait in the nude. I reached out as he said, "When..." and touched his chest with my paddle. His heart stopped, and he gave me that pissed-off fearful look they all did. The techs caught him and slipped him into the life support bag. I folded his clothes neatly, slipped them into the pocket at the foot of the bag, and we lifted him onto the scanner's conveyor. Traveling while dead is something I will never do. You couldn't pay me. But, I guess if you've gotta travel it's the safest way...

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