Soulless/Cyborg

     A couple days ago I posted this grab from my computer on Facebook and my sister-in-law commented that I looked sad.

      Actually, that “sad” look isn't really sad. It's more a soulless look. I have a theory of jet flight across many time zones that I call the “rubber band effect”. Essentially the body arrives before the soul can catch up leaving you soulless or without much spirit. That's the look that makes you think of sad; it's more an empty gaze. But, once the soul snaps back on its rubber band you're back together again. So, it's nothing to worry about.

Business class lounge at Incheon Airport

      A word about Business class (insurance paid in this case). It has some perks like a special waiting lounge in the airport, a personal welcome aboard and linen tablecloth on the slightly larger fold away table. The meal includes an hors d'oeuvre or two (which were good), but the main entree is the same as in Economy—at least with Korean Airlines. The seat is a little wider and folds up so that you can stretch out a bit, but it isn't wide enough to curl up and when fully extended slants down a bit so that is isn't fully horizontal. I have to wonder if the cost of a Business class seat is really worth it. Partially yes and partially no.

      I got the full invalid treatment with wheelchairs and quick check in and security. One small moment of anxiety at the Prague waiting lounge; the attendant seemed to be late picking me up and taking me to the boarding gate so we started to leave on our own, crutches and all. But, just as we were leaving the lounge the man showed up and wheeled me to the gate. At Incheon, the wheelchair person was a very attractive and charming young woman. Again, in Okayama I got wheeled out quickly through Immigration into a waiting taxi and so to bed--slept a full 12 hours. Kudos to our travel insurance company. 

x-ray of my left femur
and titanium rod and screws

      My leg is coming along very well. Checked in with the local bone man, had an x-ray and interview. He said the leg looks good, I could go on one crutch if I wanted to, and can go off the crutches in another three weeks. But, I'm no longer a complete human being, part of me is now titanium—think The Terminator without the muscle mass.

                                                                                      Cyborg!