What the Heck Is That?! – Vintage Recipe Ridicule

 

 

MY FIASCO TRIP: The Travel Edition

What began as a simple trip to another State to see my son - mutated into a seven‑day obstacle course of disasters so relentless that even the universe screamed:

 “SERIOUSLY??”

And the worst part?

We didn’t see ANY of it coming. Not one red flag. Not one warning sign. Not even a fortune cookie whispering, “Girl… stay home.”

It All Started the Night Before Our Trip on June 10th:

My husband, Roger, is brushing his teeth like a normal person, and suddenly his tooth cap decides it’s had enough and resigns. Just pops off. No two‑week notice. No courtesy email.

Just “I’m out.”

He holds it up like Simba on Pride Rock to show me, and says, “I’ll bring it with us and we’ll find a dentist when we get there.”

Me: Sure, babe. We can add dental scavenger hunt to the itinerary, no problem.

The Airport: Where No Logic Lives

I cannot say what airport or State this occurred in, because there's a lawsuit involved. 

After they x-rayed and rummaged through our luggage like we were known smugglers or something, we finally get to the gate and sit down. Suddenly there’s an announcement by a staff member at the gates desk about having to check one carry- on because there isn’t enough room in the overhead on the plane. I found out much later it’s called a “forced luggage check” which I had never heard of in my entire life.

 Apparently, it's like they're telling us:

 “You CAN have two carry-ons and a personal item, but also … no you can’t.”

 They tag our suitcases, hand us stubs with a number, and stated we can collect the suitcases as soon as we deplane. They loaded the luggage in a lower compartment on the plane. They herd us to our seats, that were close to the back of the plane.

 We land 30 minutes early, which I foolishly interpret as a good sign.

 Cute. I was adorable back then.

 The Jetway: The Scene of the Crime

We let everyone exit first so we can grab our overhead stuff without elbowing strangers or making them wait for us. We exit the plane door. I’m walking through the jetway, holding my pocketbook in front of me so I don’t whack people with it as I walk by them,  because the people before us were lined up in the jetway waiting to get their luggage,  and then…

FACE PLANT!

There was an uneven incline that was unmarked, unannounced, un‑everything, and I fall down like the crash of 1929.

 My right-hand lands on top of my pocketbook and bends backwards with the right side of my body on top of it. My left hand hits the floor hard. To add insult to injury, I slide forward upon landing. My elbow hits the floor, and I skid along the carpeting like I’m auditioning for the airport Olympics.

People gasp.

Someone yells out- “Is she OK?”

Roger whimpers behind me “oh babe…” in the saddest little voice. He’s carrying both our backpacks and his C-pap machine, and I’m on the floor face down in front of him, with people behind him and to the right of us in a line waiting for luggage and there's only a wall to the left. There’s no place to set anything down- he physically cannot help me up. Jetways just aren’t that wide.

And the line of people next to me? Not one person moved.

No one offered a hand to help me up. I could’ve been a clown juggling meatballs and they wouldn’t have blinked twice.

Finally, one very elderly woman breaks formation, walks over, and says:

“Dear, I can’t help you up, but there’s a railing above you on the wall. If you can reach it, I think you can try to pull yourself up that way.”

Ma’am.

My guardian angel.

Thank You.

I grab the railing like it’s the last lifeboat on the Titanic and I slowly haul myself upright.

My upper lip is throbbing. My elbow hurts and burns. My left wrist is screaming.

My dignity is somewhere back on the carpet being stepped on by useless people.

 The Manager and The Airport Medic

Roger sits me down outside the jetway at the gate and reports the fall to a staff member at the desk. A manager arrives and asks me what happened. I tell him the story. Airport medics are called.

 A “medic” shows up, stands about five feet away from me with his hands on his hips like he’s posing for a magazine cover for GQ, and asks: “What happened?”

I tell the whole story again. He says: “Well, we’re limited on what we can do. Do you want to go to the hospital?”

I’m thinking: Sir… You didn’t look at my elbow. You didn’t examine my wrists. You didn’t offer so much as a Band‑Aid.

I don’t think you even know how to add 2 + 2.

At this point, a Witch from 1558 would’ve provided more medical care.

After I thought a moment, I opted to go to urgent care myself. My thought process was that although I was hurt... I didn’t think it was badly enough for an ambulance ride to a hospital. Insurance won’t cover it either, if I’m not admitted- So, I figured save that ER space for someone that is way more injured or ill. I could wiggle my fingers, so I didn’t think anything was broken. We just had to go get our rental car first. Then locate an urgent care facility to find out what was going on.

The Rental Car Olympics

We walk through the airport to the tune of what feels like 19 miles to the rental car counter.  

Roger is now carrying both backpacks, a C‑PAP machine, my pocketbook, and wheeling his suitcase. He was packed up like the Beverly Hillbilly’s heading to their new mansion. I’m just wheeling my suitcase with the lesser of the three evils of injuries.

 We finally get to the car rental area, and the line is very long. My left wrist is now throbbing. My right-hand hurts, and my elbow is very sore. I guess the shock and adrenaline from the fall was wearing off at that point- because everything began to become evident. Roger sits me down in a nearby chair and plops all the luggage by me.…About 25 minutes later, he comes back, loads himself up with everything again and we begin to walk again. Then after looking at one of those "you are here" signs, We discover that the garage is back on the other side of the airport. So another 19 mile walk that now feels like 37 miles! Did no one ever look at the building plans in the very beginning and say- maybe we should put the car rental area near the garage?

 Apparently not.

We get to the garage and find the spot: L 21. But the car is not there!

 Of course it isn’t.

 There isn’t an attendant in sight either. Why would there be?

Roger hikes all the way back, while I stand in a 97‑degree garage with no benches to sit on, no mercy, and a bladder screaming for justice. I couldn’t even look for a bathroom, because I had ALL the luggage. Both my hands are yelling at me, throbbing and the elbow is already turning 50 shades of blue. 

 Eventually Roger comes back, we got a nicer car (small win), they upgraded us for the trouble we had and we head to the hotel.

 The Hotel

We check in and get to our room.

I dash to the bathroom. The bathroom is gorgeous.

I come out- I check out the bed and it's a comfy king size. Nice.

The room is… small, but we can manage small. Then Roger says, “There’s no dresser or closet. Just those 6 pegs on the wall and this long bench.”

6 Pegs.

On a wall.

For two people staying an entire week?

 But fine, I need urgent care and I begin my search on my phone. I find one with great reviews and bonus: it’s only 7 minutes away.

 Urgent Care #1: The X‑Ray  

I tell the girl at the check in what happened. Eventually they call me in. The nurse comes in, asks what happened. I tell the story AGAIN. She looked surprised about the airport medics not doing anything. She cleans and bandages my elbow and leaves.

The doctor comes in: “What happened?” I repeat the story yet again. Her eyes bulged regarding my fall and the airport medic story.

 They x‑ray my left wrist.

The technician asks what happened! I tell her the story too. That’s like the 6^th time… I’m beginning to see a pattern.

 The doctor returns and says: “You have a fracture in your wrist.”

Then she adds: “We don’t have the supplies to cast it.”

 I stare at her like she just told me they ran out of oxygen. I can’t figure out why they have x-ray capabilities, if they can’t do anything regarding results like this? She gives me a carpal tunnel brace, a copy of the CD of my x-rays and another Urgent Care nearby that CAN cast it. But…

She said we can only go between 5:30 pm and 7 pm, because that’s when the orthopedics are there.

 What is that, a wrist casting happy hour?

 It was already past 7 pm. I told Roger, I have the brace to semi-immobilize it until we will go there tomorrow. Finally got to see my son around 8 pm-ish.

Lawyer Visit: The CD

We obtain a lawyer in the State we were visiting, since the fall occured there, to see if we have a case regarding the fall. We get there and they sit us in their conference room and of course the lawyer asks what happened!

I tell the story AGAIN (#7 - yep, definitely a pattern).

 They open the CD and view the images. They try to download it, but if the CD could speak it would  say: “You can look but can’t touch.”

 They try to copy it and save it. It’s basically a digital hostage situation. It can only be viewed! Thankfully the urgent care gave me the written report too, that confirms the fracture. So, they made a copy of that to proceed.

 We leave with the useless CD in hand, like it’s a cursed artifact. We can go back to urgent care tomorrow for a different copy without the protection.

Urgent Care #2: The Weird Stuff

We arrive on Friday, within that 5:30 – 7 pm window. Naturally the woman at the desk asks and…

 I tell the story AGAIN (this is getting on my last nerve/)

 The woman says: “We don’t do that during these hours, you have to come back during normal business hours.”

HUH??

Then a security guard sitting next to her, who apparently moonlights as a medical consultant chimes in: “They won’t cast you for three days anyway because of swelling.”

 Sir. Why are you even involved?

 They tell me to come back Monday, because they are closed all weekend. 

Of course they are.

Monday: The Breaking Point

This time I walk in like I own the place. I’m thinking “We got this now”.

New woman at the desk. She asked why I’m there. I tell the story AGAIN, this time with the added part about what I was told by their staff member on Friday (is this #9? At this point - just put me out to pasture).

She says: “I don’t know why she told you that. Do you have an appointment?”

 EXCUSE ME? For URGENT CARE??

 She says:  “I can try to get you in this week.” And starts fiddling in her computer.

 Wait- WHAT??

 She asks: “Do you have your insurance card?” I hand it to her… More computer fiddling. Then she says: “Your insurance requires a referral.”

 I said: But this is URGENT CARE?? She said not during these hours!

 What just happened?

 I ask: What do I do now? I was injured Thursday; this is now Monday. She replies: “You can go to the ER across the street!”

 If I could have climbed over that desk, I’d have been arrested.

The ER: The Only Place with Normal People

I was trying to avoid a long ER visit, but at this point all i want is to get off this merry-go-round! I register at the desk. They asked what happened. (I swear, I can’t.) 

I gave them the Evelyn Wood speedy version.

 Surprise- No waiting. They took me in the back immediately! I was in the triage room. A nurse took my vital signs and asks what happened! I said, "Listen, this is like the 11^th time I’ve had to tell the story since June 11^th. Isn’t this written down somewhere? Because I swear, I just told them this out front?"

The nurse laughed.

He put me in an ER room. I thought OK, this.... THIS is where the wait will be.

Nope.

They bring the x‑ray machine to me! Technicians x-ray me again. This time both wrists. The doctor comes in a little while later- The right wrist is badly sprained; but they splint and soft‑cast my left wrist. I almost cried from the shock of the actual competence I just experienced. But I was too busy kicking myself, because it was in THAT moment I realized I should have gone to the ER from the get-go. I thought I was doing the right thing on June 11th… saving a place in the ER for someone that was bleeding profusely or seriously sick. But noooooooo - I had to go to urgent care instead.

Lesson learned.

Back to Urgent Care #1- Re: A New CD

 I explained and got a new CD that they claimed it can now be downloaded and copied.

 Lawyer Visit #2

We go back to the lawyer to give them the new CD.

 Guess What?

 This one doesn’t download or copy either. The Lawyer said it was fine- they can just use the written report. I throw my good arm up in the air –

Good, it’s settled then …and we walk out.

 My Own Orthopedic Back Home:

My orthopedic asks what happened. I thought I was going to cry, but I tell the ENTIRE story from the airport fall to the two urgent cares, all the way thru to the last lawyer visit.

Every little detail... Everything.

He examines me based on my current symptoms and orders an MRI.

Surprise!

Turns out I actually have two fractures (not one), bad bone bruising, fluid buildup, swelling that’s compressing on the nerves. And at this point it was 15 days after my fall. Who knows if it was worse before, or got worse due to improper immobilization all that time? I’ll leave that thought with my lawyer!

And now I have a new appreciation for staying home! But wait, there’s more…

Of course there’s more!

I called my insurance company to find out if that 2^nd urgent care actually ran my insurance that day. 

 Guess what?

They never ran my insurance that day AND my insurance does NOT require a referral for anything! So, the insurance company opened a case file once I told them what happened and that I had a lawyer for my fall. Once I learned they didn’t even run my insurance, I decided to go into the urgent care website- Right in their own words in black and white on their site it states: “No referrals required! Same day care.... orthopedics on hand.” Yadda-yadda-yadda…

So, that urgent care staff member lied right to my face, and she must have pretended to be typing in her computer the entire time! I screenshot it and then emailed it right to my lawyer! We shall see what transpires.

 This entire Fiasco is now officially the longest Forks & Fiascos story I have ever had to tell. It wasn’t fun when it happened, It delayed my being able to type for 6 weeks. but my writing style made it a bit humorous, didn't it? I am out of the splint, in a brace and have an appointment to begin physical therapy. Wish me luck, because I need it.