(Part one can be found here.)I had my last waddle through duty free, sat and had a snack, and then headed to the gate. They not only had my doctor's authorization to return, but a new boarding pass - row 2 - always a good sign!
Some rights reserved by Jez B
I had been upgraded. I spend the flight from Amman to London in the front row with a wide seat and a foot rest. The plane, in general, was pretty empty, but I still kept my wanderings to the section in front of the curtain. :)
I hadn't asked for a wheelchair in Amman because the airport is so small and I know it so well, but I did have a wheelchair assistance request in for both London and Seattle. I was told to wait when the plane landed and someone would come to assist me.
I waited. I waited in my seat. I waited on the jet way. I waited at the gate. I wasn't waiting alone. There were two other people (and their companions) waiting for wheelchairs. One of them was trying to make a flight, in another terminal, in 30 minutes - crazy! I knew I had lots of time, but I wanted to get something to eat and I still needed a seat assignment. I also knew I could walk, if I had to.
After more than 30 minutes of waiting a delightful gal came to wheel me away. When we got to terminal 3 (after passing security with my very heavy carry on, due to all of the hard drives, cameras, etc.) she took me to a coffee shop to get a sandwich and then to the gate. I had her leave me there as I couldn't see the point in having her wait.
When I checked in I was told the flight was completely full, they only had a middle seat available. On a good day I am claustrophobic. On a very pregnant day when I had to be up as often as possible and need the bathroom every 20 minutes the situation was not looking good. I said I would wait and see in case something became available.
They started pre-boarding.
I waited (and ate).
I waited and they began boarding.
I waited as it seemed the entire plane boarded.
Finally it was time for me to board and the gate agents told me there was nothing available except 49 B - a middle.
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I tried to not cry.
I boarded the plane and asked the flight attendant to le me know if there were any aisle seats. (My condition was quite obvious - I didn't need to explain it!) I stalled, but eventually had to get into my seat. There was a young man, traveling by himself in seat 'C' (the aisle). I explained that I would need to get out every 20 minutes for the WHOLE, ENTIRE flight. He didn't offer to switch.
At this point my claustrophobia started to kick in as well and I was having to try very hard to keep myself calm. I had no idea how I was going to make it for nine hours when I was nearly in a panic after three minutes.
We pulled away from the jet way and that was it. I was in a middle from London to Seattle.
To Be Continued…