This year
marks my seventeenth trip to D.C. to join my voice with fellow advocates at the
Alzheimer’s Advocacy Forum.
Essential
preparations for this annual journey began on Wednesday with laundry. It seemed
that most of the clothing I planned to wear was in need of laundering.
Thursday, the packing began and I felt pretty good when I went to bed at
midnight. My suitcase was full. Friday morning was going to be easy-peasy. All
I had to do was make a few final preparations, grab my bags, and head to the
airport to spend the night at a hotel.
The first
problem was I shut off my alarm and overslept. I took the dog out and then it
was time to sign in to get my boarding pass. My sign in wouldn’t work. I decided
to ask for a new password and my security questions weren’t correct. What? I
was giving the only answers. After much agonizing, I realized I was entering an
incorrect password and once I corrected my error, I was in.
The few
preparations turned into hours. I took my PC downstairs to hook into my color
printer and it wouldn’t work. I couldn’t figure it out, so Harold came down and
after a few manipulations, declared that I didn’t have it plugged in correctly.
I hate it
when that happens.
Back
upstairs, I prepared to leave—about four hours after my target time.
“Just sit
down and relax a minute before you leave,” Harold said. “Otherwise, you’ll
forget something important.”
“I’ll go
over my checklist,” I said.
The
checklist looked good. Then Harold started asking about this and that...he
thinks of everything. Of course, he’s the planner; I’m the seat-of-the-pants
person. Eventually, he managed to think of something I’d forgotten.
“What
would you do without me?” he asked.
“Go off
half cocked all the time,” I admitted.
When I headed out the door, it was raining, and the car clock told me that my
timing was perfect to hit Kansas City right at rush hour on a Friday night. Oh,
brother.
By the
time I reached I-70, rain was pouring and the traffic was pretty well
bumper-to-bumper. At one time, I looked in my rearview mirror to see a semi
tailgating me. My windshield began to fog, and my wipers were working their
butts off to keep the rain from interfering with my vision.
I called
Harold for a weather report. “You should be running out of the rain by the time
you reach Kansas City,” he said.
The radio
was on a country music station and I found the music to be soothing. I turned
up the radio and karaoked to my heart’s content. Once again, meteorologist
Harold was correct. When I reached the city, the rain cleared just in time for
a weird traffic jam on I-435.
Finally,
I reached the hotel and everything was better. I checked into a beautiful room
and although Harold had told me of all the fabulous restaurants nearby, I ate
at the hotel. I was famished and the turkey club with “house” made chips tasted
wonderful.
After
giving myself a mani-pedi, I decided to make a cup of tea. First problem, no
cups. I called housekeeping and that problem was solved.
I was
darned ready for a good night’s sleep. After all, the next day was going to be
a long one.
After
sleeping soundly for a few hours, I woke up at 4:30 and couldn’t go back to
sleep. I decided to make a cup of coffee and relax for a while until time to
catch my flight. I poured water into the coffeemaker, put Coffee-mate in the
cup, and turned it on. The pot stopped gurgling, but when I checked, all I had
was hot Coffee-mate water. I had neglected to put in the coffee. Second time, I
did everything right except I forgot to turn on the pot. Finally, I sat down
with a cup of coffee and decided I would get ready and head to the airport.
After
such a rocky start, the rest of the trip would have to be smooth skies. By
mid-afternoon, I’d be in D.C. and have a few days to see the sites and spend
with my friends. So, I grabbed my purple suitcase and set off for another round
of fighting to end Alzheimer’s.
Copyright © April 2017 by L.S. Fisher
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