I have been writing blogs and with the changes on the site been slow to get anything posted. This is a letter I recently wrote regarding showing how grateful I was.
Dear Mr. Airline,
I have been humming about sending you my note but realized if you don’t know you cannot learn from it. The catch is, this enters a very personal space of my life, so I know it will be kept in confidence.
I was flying home from xyz from a work conference. I was so pleased to get to go, as I have spent over the past year working with assistance with PTSD from numerous traumatic events. The flight there was the first time I didn’t feel overly emotional getting on a plane and was feeling optimistic about the whole trip. I was so excited and enjoyed the week of fellowship and blessings.
Upon the return I want to tell you about a few people, places and how things began. This might assist you in the future and how grateful I was for two workers.
It was 4am and I am up and ready to go downstairs to my hotel around 5. We are waiting for our cab and the hotel has advised it is coming. Needless to say, our taxi finally arrived and we got to the airport at 6 am. We already knew we were late which is not us, and it was stressing us out, as we we were heading home and there is no place we would rather be.
As I approach the lady for the flight, that was when she started into her reprimand on the flight, the time and it just kept going on and on. I am quiet at this point, as this gate keeper decides if I get home to my family and my dog. Four days without her is hard, as she is there for the Ptsd. She keeps continuing on, tells me my bag is overweight and I say charge me.
Dumbfounded she says you don’t want to take anything out? I said nope charge me. My insides are screaming and it’s being added by the MS that I deal with starting to take over. She keeps talking about the time etc, I finally say in my small voice, just for reference, I know we are late, we are sorry, we have been waiting for our cab since this time.
I take my bag over to another lady at an Xxxxxxzzz sign and say xcxxxc? She says yes. Both are not seeming to be all that happy that morning. These jobs, like mine are where we play actresses. We smile, we do the work, each guest needs to be separated from the last.
At this point I hear her fumbling my name out loud and she has just realized another thing. At that moment all I want is to run, scream into something, but I am cool and turn. She is stuttering I see it says you may need a wheelchair? In my head I’m thinking not from you, as I’m sure you would like to push me off something. I respond with the no thanks, my ms was currently at bay, and to leave it on my status as I do not know how I will be when I hit Xxxxxxx I can feel the shakes starting, I am at the very max this morning, and the stress is starting to rise. Now I’m thinking ok, you got this and head to security.
Everything is fine as I pass through, then another woman who begins talking to me, as if she has watched one too many reality tv shows is telling me she is confiscating my cane because I am not on it. I am now angry and start with the bombarded emotions inside me trying to keep them at bay. I tell her absolutely not as I have been on this cane since I was 27 and it is set and configured to me. She is full of something, is the way I will describe her.
She tells me I have to come in on my cane and be on it or not have one. Seriously people? I deal with grief and loss every time I have to go on the cane. Yet right now the first woman judged me at check in and didn’t pay attention and now another.
My anger is forming in my eyes as I feel very disrespected. As the lady is dishing I finally say, I am so very sorry that my MS is an inconvenience for you all and I was not on my cane, it was because I didn’t need to be, but I’m sure that will change now. I had to say something.
I am bewildered. She finally gets off her horse and turns more human. I walk through, and all the agents are apologizing as they do not agree with this rule. Each of them coming over with something to say. One gives me the info to complain. I will. She tries to talk to me again and I cannot. I just needed strength as what they didn’t realize was again, they judged me, that morning and they both added a huge weight to my shoulders.
I am the flyer who has everything bagged, pulls it out, proper shoes yet I get stopped at every airport and questioned at security. I asked once, they said it was because I was laughing and smiled. I said bull what was it about me that I am judged for? I still do not know.
Anyways needless to say I am in tears. I just want to be home and go to sleep. I get on the plane and am trying to control the tears, but can’t, they activated the button and it will stop when they are ready to.
Taking off is a challenge as I have permanent vertigo, thank you MS and I am trying to settle my nerves. For a half hour I keep my head down, tears streaming. We do our safety demonstration, and we have the two agents in the front. I hear another agent respond to another guest and I am thinking Dear Lizza, when did customer service get so bad? When did we stop caring for humans?
I am the last person in the front for the front attendant to bring snack items to. The man, Dxxxcm, I remember because he said Dxxxcm with an m, assists me. He has seen that I was tearing.
I order a croissant ham and cheese, and am eating, have my beverage and snacks and he was kind, he says I’m going to check on you to make sure you are good. He showed compassion. Thank you.
He asks me how the sandwich was and I say fabulous, thank you, I am grateful. Just for reference that was a completely dried out hard croissant, but I won’t tell him that because he was showing a wonderful human and caring side, you never let that go unnoticed.
That flight is done, and I am sitting on the plane for the next one to head home. The flight is cancelled. I’m disappointed but hell, I would rather be alive, and I work on blocking out the negativity around me.
Off the plane we go and as I am standing there, another worker who assists on the run way can see something is wrong with me. I’m now shaking, starting to have trouble moving, and nodding. I know I will have to go on my cane soon, as much as I fight it. He tells me not too worry, I don’t need to line up and I can go ahead and sit down. Compassion, thank you.
We receive our instructions and off we go. People trying to get there as fast as possible, me at my pace thinking, I wonder if I have time to see my daughter in xxxxxxx?
Luggage in hand, I’m in line and I can hear the people reprimanding the agents. I get to mine and I say I was going to ask how your day was going but I think I know. She says I was going to ask you the same; we laugh and I remark there is always a reason for things to happen. She realizes about the wheelchair immediately and we chat. I told her I now have to go on my cane, as this morning of flying has done me in. She lets me know to find them and they will assist me if I want them to. I am grateful for her kindness.
I text my daughter, she has no university or work today and I get to see my baby. Off to lunch she whisks me away and I get some bonding time that is so precious with my girl.
When I get back to check in, I head to security and they can see, I am now hunched over, losing my strength, you can see my face has changed. I look awful. They get me into a quick line and then another man sees it’s taking too long and moves me to another.
I cannot even lift my bag up now. This is when I would just sleep all these symptoms away. They help me get my bag and articles put up on the conveyor, complete their checks, find my computer and run it through again. Another lady says we can get you sitting down and then they, as she points can take you where you need to go in their golf cart.
I get settled, packed up and the lady says where I need to go, she will request a wheelchair for me. Here is where I meet Exxx from xxxxxx. Excx and me begin to chat and takes me to the facility. I wait for the wheelchair washroom to watch a able bodied Tsa agent come out and she looks at me in the chair with my cane.
As we walk Exca asks if it’s ok to ask me? I tell her I have MS. She tells me her step mother had it and how she ended up hating life and was angry. We talk about all the things I do, I run a business, I work full time, and about how today I’m like this, but probably in a week I will be working on training for my next running race. We talk about life, and how I see it, with gratitude. She is so very kind and leaves me with some very kind and caring words. That made me tear, I am a cupcake. She didn’t judge me by my book jacket.
So from my day starting out off the wrong foot and ending with the words from her. I was able to see so many good things in a day that started out so wrong.
P.S you owe me a fresh croissant next time I fly.
Love always the not made for flying, Spooktacular Witch
I apologize, I have fixed the formatting and still it comes out not correct, oh well!