Donna Matthews

Category: Just Life

  • It is Only Trip Number Two and…

    It will be one that will live long in the memory, not only for me but hundreds of thousands of other travellers as well. Yes, I was due to fly home on Thursday but as we were waiting to board things took a dramatic turn. Suddenly our flight started showing “delayed” and the wait grew longer. People were milling about and asking each other what was going on. There was a couple sitting across from me and she began talking to her husband and showing him her phone. She looked at my travelling companion and said that the BBC was reporting a large fire very close to the airport and so began our adventure.

    That was Thursday and today is Saturday, after working all week at conference, I was running out of clothes, and patience because of all places this happened while I was about to leave one of my least favourite (as well as the most expensive city’s on the planet… Las Vegas). I am currently scheduled to get out of Sin City at sun up. I do realise many people were worse off than me, at least we had not actually taken off. Those planes already heading for Heathrow would be turned back or end up in a random city.

    Once they finally, officially, cancelled our flight we had to go to baggage claim to get the bags we had recently said goodbye to. You would think that luggage on a plane that never took off should be fairly straightforward to return.

    Of course it wasn’t. Three hours later we passed the witching hour and we were now scrambling to find a hotel. When seeing the prices coming up for rooms I had to double check that I had not accidentally been redirected to a real estate website. I wanted a room for a night I did not want to buy a hotel. So while the party people were enjoying themselves I just wanted this marathon day to end with a place to sleep.

    Tomorrow will surely be another fun filled time while I hopscotch across the US before heading back England and my family. Las Vegas to Dallas, Dallas to Houston, Houston to London. See you on the other side and I hope I have no stories to tell about this next sojourn.

  • My First Trip of the Season Update

    I know I left you hanging with my last post as you still don’t know how the rest of that leg of my journey went. Well, it did not get any better. As the time approached to start looking for my gate information I received an email from the airline that “due to operational constraints” my flight to Dallas would be delayed by 2 hours. The technologist in me was impressed because the email and text landed before the airport departures board was updated. Great job BA on your real time technology solution. However the traveler in me was thinking this already long day ahead of me just got longer.

    Finally onboard and settled in the captain comes on over the PA system to explain to us in some detail why we had been delayed for nearly 3 hours. According to him the plane had arrived from South Africa earlier in the day and the staff were unable to open the waste system to empty it. Which lead to Engineers being called who guess what? You got it they couldn’t open it either. Which meant a part had to be requested and eventually fitted. We could not complain that we were not well informed, if not a bit nauseated.

    Landed in Dallas, and did the mad dash to reclaim our luggage, go through Customs and re-check our luggage for the 45 minute flight to San Antonio. On the last segment of this trip and counting down the minutes to that shower that was in my very near future. Nope…

    …a passenger decided that she was more important than anyone else on the plane. She attempted to “place her bag in the overhead locker”, that was already full so it only went in about 6 inches. She left the bag sticking out saying loudly “they will have to figure it out”. When the flight attendant started closing the lockers he gets to this one with an ugly pink suitcase sticking out. He asked “whose bag is this?” Several helpful passengers pointed the woman out. He then asked her to please come and get the bag so it could be checked. The poor man had no idea what chain of events he just kicked off .

    The woman flatly and rudely responded that she would not be getting her bag down and no one was going to check it. The flight attendant walked over and calmly explained that she could not leave it there and that it must be checked. After calling him a “jerk” and a few other unpleasant things she asked to speak to the senior crew member. Then 15 minutes later it was the ground staff supervisor and finally 40 minutes later, when we should have been starting our descent into San Antonio, it was the pilot!

    By this time everyone was asking for the airline to check the bag, and her suitcase!

  • First Trip of the Year and it Has Started

    I arrived at the airport on time, checked my bag and made my way to the lounge. I had to go to the service desk for something and there he was, a young’ish man with a clipboard. For those of too young to remember clipboards are in lieu of digital means of data entry. A clipboard requires one to hand write the data they are collecting. Names, flight numbers etc. This task was obviously difficult for the young man as he hovered 2 inches above the clipboard and painstakingly navigated the paper and wrote the information down by hand.

    Ironically this reminded me of the look on students facing when first encountering a keyboard on a computer. They would look around at the many keys and were quickly overwhelmed. This reverse situation would have made me laugh but I had now been standing and waiting so long for him to complete his handwritten task that my left leg was going numb!

    I can only hope that all computer systems are functioning normally for the remainder of the trip.

  • I love my technology but…

    …my mother has always called me “gadget girl”, because I am constantly looking for the latest and greatest tech BUT sometimes it does let me down. I’m sure you have all experienced this numerous times and it makes you feel frustrated. When this happens to me I try to remember what it was like before mobile phones, tablets, and the Internet. This usually works however this time it did not.

    I live in the UK but was born in the US and I do follow baseball when my team makes it to the postseason. I have every sports package on the planet because I love most sports. Yesterday was game one of the baseball World Series and the first pitch was scheduled for well after midnight. Gadget Girl made sure the recording was set up (checked twice) because I hate it if I record the non-HD channel by mistake. I went to bed safe in the knowledge that the game would be recorded and ready for me to watch in the morning.

    I grew up a Yankees fan but after the move to Texas and the Rangers joining the league I slowly switched to the local team. This is the Ranger’s first trip to the World Series since 2011 so it is a big deal.

    I woke up thing morning armed myself with a cup of coffee and settled in front of the telly. The game was back and forth after the Ranger’s early lead. The Diamond Backs rallied and took the lead. Late in the game the Ranger’s tied the score and forced the game into extra innings. It is now crunch time, bottom of the 10th inning with the score still tied. It breaks to the 4,000th commercial of the game and STOPS! I am sitting there with my mouth open, staring at the frozen telly. No, I could not think about what it was like before you could record games or what life was like before self driving vacuum cleaners!

    I started this blog with the fact the I love technology BUT sometimes it can drive you absolutely nuts. We are in 2023, men have walked on the moon, there is an active space programme to take a crew to Mars, AI that is so good you don’t know it isn’t real. So why can’t TV providers figure out a way to put a buffer at the end of games!! I had to grab my iPad and look up the score, all the while not taking a single breath. Through squinted eyes I saw the final score and let out that breath. We won in the 11th inning. Which was great news but it would have been nice to see it.

    Here is a recommendation to broadcasters, why don’t you put some of the pre-match build up time to post match summary to avoid this happening? I know that there will always be games that go to multiple inning or extra time but surely in this day and age we should be able to solve this problem!

  • A Preview of my Later Years

    This weekend a had an opportunity to spend a couple of days with my mom prior to the start of my conference. My mom lives in an apartment complex for over 50’s. I had a glimpse of what is in store for me in the future. Everyone has their own apartment and is totally independent, however the older end of the age spectrum have their own very close community with daily and weekly activities. My niece happened to be in town so she twas able to share part of this experience with me.

    Daily events start with morning (well sometimes afternoon) announcements. The office staff are not the most organised which means these announcements don’t actually occur at a specific time. I think this keeps the residents on their toes. Also, the content seems to vary, there is no structure to them and in my opinion sometimes not even a point. In one recent announcement after giving an update on pest control the announcer randomly said, “…and I am sterile because God wanted it this way.” That got the rumour mill buzzing!

    Megan (my niece) and I got a chance to go to Bingo and Coffee Club. To say this was an experience is a huge understatement. Bingo is Monday and Thursday’s at 2:00. Coffee Club is at 3:00 daily. At 1:30 one of my mom’s inner circle called to say he was off up to the dining room (aka Bingo Hall) to get everyone’s cards. Apparently one must send an advance party to ensure you get the “good” cards and are not stuck with the dreaded green cards. Since each of the inner circle play 6 cards at a time the advance party is required. Oh, also to ensure the preferred table is secured.

    We arrive just as the group is assembling and my mom and her friends start to give us a run down of who’s who. “Don’t talk to her”, (hand up to cover the finger pointing in the direction of “her”), because she is crazy. She thinks she is a spy.” Okay, Megan and I both make a mental note about “her”. Then the Bingo caller makes her way to the front of the room and takes her place behind the Bingo ball machine.

    Megan and I are given two of the dreaded green cards to play. My mom says “if you win you will need to give the card to one of us to shout “Bingo” because the “oldies” might be upset that an outsider won.” I asked what we were playing for. Mom said it appeared to be “crappy” prizes supplied by the apartment management. On days like today you might be the lucky winner of a can of asparagus or a roll of toilet paper. Other days are sponsored by insurance companies, health care companies or sometimes a local community group. Those are the good prizes.

    The machine rumbles to life and we are off. The caller calls the first number. “B17” croaks out and kicks off a wave of people repeating for those who did not hear the first time. Then someone says to their neighbour “B16” which gets reactions from those who heard correctly “no it was B17”. Confusion reigns until an appeal is made to the caller, who has been oblivious to the dispute because she can’t hear either! Once the debate is settled we move on. By the time the first 3 numbers were called Megan and I understood how they could all play 6 cards. This was owing to glacial speed at which the game moved. Finally someone yelled “Bingo” which solicited groans from everyone else in the room. The card was taken for verification by caller and deemed good. Now the winner chose their prize, a paperback book, and it was game number two. Each number called was followed by the repeats from those who could hear. (Megan and I were in hysterics at the intensity of players.) Things heated up when we had a false “Bingo” the too be winner was too quick to call “Bingo” as they still needed one number. More groans and a few looks from the players and the card was returned. Megan is recording a video for her boyfriend because he did not believe her texts as she was giving him a play by play. The hour finally ended with one of our table winning the final prizes which consisted of a hand crocheted hot pad and pot holder as well as a fleece blanket.

    Coffee Club stared with a gentleman giving an update on one of the club members who was in the hospital. He explained that visiting hours were from 9:30-11:00. Someone said “8:30-11:00?“ Someone else said “no 9:00-11:30”. This went on for about five minutes with every time under the sun suggested until Megan finally settled the debate by loudly repeating the correct times for all to hear.

    It was an eye opening two hours and my mom said “you may not think it now but someday this will be you.” I know she is right and we shouldn’t laugh but it was very funny to watch.

  • Back to Normal Life

    Well a week post hospital discharge I had my first full night’s sleep. It is amazing how quickly we become institutionalised. For the last week I have been waking up every few hours, even though there was on one standing beside my bed waiting to do my observations. No squeeze of the blood pressure cuff or medication being offered, yet I still kept waking up. I have never been a breakfast person but each morning at 07:00 my stomach was telling me the breakfast trolley would soon arrive. After the first day, rookie mistake, of ordering toast (I still can’t figure out how you can make toast rubbery), I would be sitting up ready to ask for porridge and coffee. The coffee (unlike the rubbery toast) was very good. The next big event on the schedule was ordering lunch and dinner. I made a few choices that ended up in the “I don’t think I will have that again” category but soon learned what the safe choices were.

    Other than meals arriving and obs being taken, the day was interspersed with the tea trolley, pre-lunch and pre-dinner soup offerings. There was the newspaper delivery (your choice of the Daily Mirror or the Financial Times), if you were lucky the book and magazine team would appear. I found myself looking forward to each and every event even if it was just say “yes please I would love a cup of tea” or “no thank you I would not like carrot soup or anything else carrot for hat matter)”. (Carrot cake being the only exception to the list of all things carrot).

    What I haven’t mentioned were the daily rounds made by the medical team and the occasional visit from the cardio team. These particular events in the day were the most unpredictable so you couldn’t set your watch by them but they were always interesting. On day 4 I got a visit from one of the doctors that saw me when I was in A&E. He popped his head around and said “Hi, I’n not sure you remember me but I saw you on your first day.” I did indeed remember him because he brought 3 students with him that day. He went on to say, “I have a favour to ask, could I bring in a group of 4th year medical students to practice taking a patient history?” Eager for additional activity in my regimented schedule I agreed. I had quite a bit of fun with them and made them work to get my information. Then I provided input where I felt they should have asked more questions or dug for more details. This of made the doctor laugh as said “Since Donna has already taken care of my feedback section, we can move on.”

    The “new normal” takes hold so quickly and in a way you don’t even notice. Once out of the hospital you think that settling back in to your “normal” life will happen seamlessly but it really doesn’t. You feel a bit at sea for several days and it can be disconcerting. I can’t imagine what it is like for people who have to spend weeks or months in hospital or any other institution. Hopefully this is my last prolonged hospital stay for a very long time.

  • Day 6 starts with “all change, all change here”

    At about 10 PM on Day 5 we are told that our ward needs to be handed over to the Bed Manager, so they can make room for an influx of male patients. (Obviously not a good day for the guys in the Big Smoke). Immediately we were all told to pack our meagre belongings for an imminent move. Then…nothing happened. The clock on the building across the street ticked on and nada. I fall asleep somewhere around 1:00. At 1:30 the ward turns into Piccadilly Circus at rush hour! Beds are being moved, those areas cleaned to within a inch of their lives (which was nice to see) and then the procession began.

    One by one my ward mates leave for their new digs and I remain. I fall back to sleep at some point only to hear a, far too cheery voice, announce that it is my turn to vacate. When they started the move they told us we were just moving around the corner. So when then started to take me right where everyone else went left I began to wonder what was in store for me.

    Much to my surprise I landed on the 15th floor in a room by myself with a stunning view across London! Watching the sunrise crawl across the city was awesome. Well that is how Day 6 started, let’s see where it takes me.

  • Day 5 of the Unplanned Hospital Visit

    What an experience this has been, so many little stories to pass on. I will try to capture the essence for your reading pleasure. The ward I am on has 5 beds and other than myself there is one other constant fixture, the rest of the beds have been revolving every 8 hours or so. The turn over is pretty fast. A new arrival yesterday morning was a young patient and her mother. How to explain this to give you a good picture…okay think about the guy on Jeremy Clarkson who no one can understand, cross that with the guy from the Vicar of Dibley who always said “yes, yes, yes, no”, got it? Now form a female version of this and you have the mother. For some reason she thinks we are friends and that I want to know everything about her life. Unfortunately she does not understand subtlety so my attempts at thwarting conversation have failed. The only good bit is that I still do not have a clue what she has been telling me! Eye contact is not an essential part of communication for this lady as she has spent numerous minutes talking to the side or even back of my head totally undeterred.

    My other new experience today was to have a CT scan with contrast. Now for those of you who have had regular CT scans without contrast count yourselves lucky. To say that the sensations you are about to experience are “odd” must be the biggest understatement of the new millennium. “Odd” could only be a descriptor used by those who have never undergone the procedure. They do the first set of scans without the said contrast and then you get to to do it all over again once the inject your IV with the “syringe of Hell” Hell is truly the word as it feels like they injected fire into your veins! You feel the burning liquid as it makes a full loop of your circulatory system. Once the loop has completed the next sensation is one of wetting yourself. I cannot explain what was going through my mind at that moment because I was too worried about the apology I was going to have to make once I came out of the scanner. Much to my relief it was only the sensation there was no actual embarrassing accident to apologise for. Until the next instalment take care and when someone tells you something is going to be “odd” watch out!

  • What a Year!

    Tonight is the last night of being a certain age and moving swiftly into my next year. If you are like me you don’t spend a lot of time reflecting on the past year, it is usually thinking about how old I am getting. I decided that this year I would not move forward until I recognised and appreciated the year that was about to finish. So much has happened in the last 12 months it hardly seems possible it all took place in such a short period of time. Let’s see…four weddings, one wedding announcement, one baby announced and newly arrived, a visit from my Mom and Dad, an incredible trip back to San Diego to see all of our friends, the trip continued to Georgia for one of the aforementioned weddings and a wonderful visit with the happy couple,  4 trips back and forth to Pune India and a whole new world of first time experiences, one high school graduation, the trip of a lifetime, to South Africa, planned and paid for…those were some of the good things but like every year it has had its sad times as well; the loss of my much loved Mother-in-Law, the loss of a friend (way before her time) and the loss of my little Westie (Maggie). Alongside these major life events ran the little things in life; meeting new friends and reconnecting with old ones.

    It has been a full on 365 days and I didn’t want it to pass by without recognising, appreciating and learning from it before moving on to the next chapter of my journey through life. I hope before your next birthday you can do the same.

  • Upper Class Travel Linked to Intestinal Gas

    If you don’t do a lot of Business travel you are probably thinking how can First and Business Class have any downsides when compared to Economy Class. I think I have mentioned in the past that one unpleasantness when traveling long haul is the odour from  flatulent co-travellers. 

    I now believe I have enough data to draw a scientific link between upper class travel and excessive amounts of intestinal gas. The cause of this is modern cabin design. You may be asking what is my proof? Well, after experiencing numerous (too many to count or remember) Economy Class trips and comparing that to the multiple Upper Class trips over a 21 year period I think I have a good data set to work with. 

    Here is my hypothesis: when travelling long haul in an upper class cabin travellers have room to stretch out enough to sleep. 21 years ago upper class travel was more specious but you were mainly sitting in a reclined position with extra leg room. However, with the modern design of upper class cabins, which allows you to lay fully in the prone position, people are much more comfortable and can actually fall deeply asleep. This combined with the pressure in the aircraft creates excessive amounts of intestinal gas.  

    The difference in Economy Class is that you spend the flight with your knees wrapped around your ears trying to drown out the sound of the wailing toddlers and grumpy pre-teens “who are bored and didn’t want to go on this dumb trip in the first place.” So, getting yourself in a position physically or emotionally for sleep is damned impossible! Hence intestinal wind stays put.

    Whereas; if you are in upper class and are the type of person who likes to read or watch movies before attempting sleep you will no doubt be subjected to wafts of odorous fumes from sleeping passengers. 

    Conclusion, foul bodily odours are more pervasive in upper class cabins lending a smelly musk to the entire experience.