This time of year the first bit of small talk is, how was your vacation? My answer will sound a lot like the relationship status of a Facebook addict.
Skiing is amazing. Skiing for me is a lot like running, there’s fear and failure, bumps, falls and endorphines. Skiing is healing, unfortunately this isn’t the first death to be healed with a day of moguls.
Let me give you a day by day recap of the trip.
December 28th, we show up at the airport to drop our bags off. We’re checked in already, the man behind the counter says, “your flight is delayed another five hours. It will leave at 9.30.” There is no departure board in sight, there no sense that he is willing to be helpful, kind or forthcoming with more information. I check my iPhone and the website says the flight will leave at 6.30. Hmmm… who to believe?
I call Frontier and they assure me that although they believe the flight is only delayed until 6.30 if the man at the counter says 9.30 then we should listen to him. Uh, it’s 4pm and I live 20 minutes from LAX. I’m going home.
We get home and there are frantic messages on my machine, “return to the airport, your flight is departing at 6.30.” Gee thanks asshole at the counter! I still wonder about the woman in line in front of us. She went to a movie and probably missed the flight entirely.
We return to the airport for the 6.30 flight, guess what? It’s leaving at 7.30. We sit down for a drink and a snack. Alexander says to me, “my throat hurts.”
We have a perfectly miserable flight, as everyone on board has been mistreated right up until the second we load the airplane, and a few are taking it out on the flight attendants. Unlike the return flight (which was also delayed), Frontier has the gall to charge for television and further annoy the passengers. Ugh, enough with Frontier, all I can say is, “you’ve been warned.” Suckage top to bottom and calling with your input after the fact is an absolute waste of breath.
We arrive at our cabin in Winter Park at 1am and our beds are made, Larry stumbles downstairs to welcome us, and I realize that with my girlfriends and their families I’m always home.
Six hours later I’m being shaken awake, “My tooth fell out!” It’s Alexander and he’s officially toothless on top.
And then he started puking.
Hmmm…. sore throat, fever, vomiting… Strep Throat is the Mommy Diagnosis. Maybe? He did lose a tooth, there’s the icky blood taste. We go back to sleep, but at nine am he’s clearly quite ill.
I pick up the yellow pages and find the one and only pediatric group in Winter Park, make an appointment, and realize they’re only a few blocks from us. I bring Alexander in the door, and the receptionist asks me how I am. That’s when I burst into tears.
I cannot begin to tell you just how wonderful the office was. From receptionists to nurses to PA’s every person in that office was positively delightful, and they practiced good medicine with us. I am forever grateful to Peak Pediatrics, Alexander would be too if he had the words for it.
Within 12 hours Alexander was feeling great, but we made him wait another day before getting on with his routine. Jane and I headed out to Winter Park for a little skiing and snowboarding.
More tomorrow (I know, I suck)