All I had to do was avoid death for the next four days. This being said, the Monday morning before my trip was not exactly a good start. The weekend had been a booze fueled blur–with my birthday party and then the Super Bowl the next night. I remember sitting down at my desk and staring blankly at my monitor for the first five minutes. In the muddle of thoughts in my head I still knew what I needed to do. Hydrate of course. I knew hydration was key, not only to remedy my current situation, but also was important in the high altitude of the Himalayas to stave off AMS (altitude sickness). The next few hours were filled with many a trip to the break room…and to the bathroom (I’ll spare you the gory details). I was feeling much better and more importantly, had avoided doing any actual work.
Work was not the only thing that I wanted to avoid though. This was early February….flu season. Despite being stabbed and injected with numerous drugs I was not impervious to illness. Sickness seemed to be all around me, and in Dolby® 5.1. This was not the soundtrack that I wanted to hear. I wanted something by John Williams…not a compilation of shitty top 40 hits. *Cough*…*Sneeze*…*Hack*…each terrible sound sending invisible mortars into the air, but where would they land? Where was a Japanese tourist when I needed one–they always have those handy surgical masks. Unfortunately, by late Tuesday afternoon, I was beginning to succumb to the relentless bombardment of germs. I could feel it beginning…hot then cold…the sniffling…the slight cough.
When I woke up Wednesday morning I did not feel well–at least not well enough to go to work (I was mentally checked out anyway). At this point, the only thing on my mind was getting healthy for my trip…everything else be damned. Chicken Noodle Soup, fluids, rest….that is what I needed. Oh…and drugs, sweet drugs…take….my….pain…away.
Thursday came quickly, as I had spent most of Wednesday sleeping. The bad news is that the drugs had not worked. I had just an awful runny nose and still a bit of a cough. Despite this, I felt that I should go to work. For some reason, I felt that I shouldn’t take two sicks days and then leave to go on vacation. Like all days before a big trip, this day at work felt like it lasted FOREVER, partially because of my sickly state and partially because all I could think about was clocking out at the end of the day. The seconds, minutes, and hours inched by at a snail’s pace. Finally though, it was 5 o’clock.
Luckily for me, I had finished pretty much all my packing like a week beforehand. All that I needed to do was double check that I had all the major things: money, credit cards, insurance info, emergency contacts, flight itinerary and passport.
Everything that I needed for the next two and a half weeks was packed into two bags. Life was about to get a lot simpler. The time had finally come to head off on my next adventure. I went to bed that night with excitement flowing through my veins and was surprised that I was able to get as much sleep as I did…I’m sure the NyQuil helped with that.
My alarm startled me awake with its blaring beeps and flashing red numbers. For once, I did not curse its existence and was glad to get out of bed at 4:30 AM. My dad was picking me up at 5 AM to take me to the airport so I had just a little time to quickly shower, eat some breakfast, and do any last minute preparations. Once my dad showed up, it was off to the Omaha airport.
Upon arrival at the airport my dad helped me with my bags and we said our goodbyes. He wished me well and I said I’d email them (my parents) when I got to Kathmandu. I was on my own now…finally.
I went through the usual airport procedure: print ticket, check bags, security, with no issues. I was going to have a brutal 30+ hours of airports and airplanes. This was the first of 5 flights to get me to Kathmandu. Omaha -> Las Vegas -> Los Angeles -> Toyko -> Singapore ->Kathmandu. I was flying Southwest from Omaha through to Los Angeles….and of course the one thing that I didn’t do was check in close to 24 hours beforehand and was in the last boarding group. I was saved though, by the Southwest upgrade to board first for an extra $40. This seemed well worth it to me, as I wanted to avoid being stuck in a middle seat and not having room in the overhead bin for my carry-on….which was all my camera stuff.
Now, settled into my aisle seat, baggage safely stowed I was ready to go. The plane taxied out to the runway as the flight attendants informed us of the aircraft’s “safety features”. This was it, the moment was finally here. The plane turned onto the runway for take-off. The engines roared to life as we sped down the runway…3…2…1….lift-off. After a few more seconds I heard the familiar noise of the landing gear going up. Wheels up!
“There is no moment of delight in any pilgrimage like the beginning of it.” – Charles Dudley Warner
Disconnected: Escapes from the 9 to 5 