Never in all my years of flying had it taken so long for the plane to get off the ground. The lady at the ticket counter had warned me, saying that the flight was full and that most of the people on the flight were going on a cruise which was to leave from New York and go up the coast to Maine. I really didn't care where the cruise was going. I really didn't care about the cruise at all--until I got on the plane.
I boarded at 10:15. At first, I thought, "This must be a big plane! It's taking a long time for people to board!" Then I realized what was happening. It seemed like everyone had to stop and say hello to Betty across the aisle. "Hi, Betty. How are you doing? It's nice to see you! What time did you get on the bus this morning? I had to get up at 3:00 because the bus left at 5:30. Well, hmmm... My seat is in row 22. What row is this? Oh, this is 11. I wonder if there's any room left for my luggage."
How did everyone know Betty?
I was beginning to think the seat next to me had not been assigned--a rare commodity on a full flight. But as soon as I thought this, an elderly couple came and sat beside me. I tried to strike up a conversation, but they weren't interested. Of course not. They had each other to fly with. I felt like a child riding among a bunch of adults--no other children to talk to on the plane. I guess I'd have to sleep. I didn't want to sleep. I might snore and embarrass myself. I had fallen asleep in the car and snored, waking myself up. I had immediately mumbled, "Good grief!" My parents laughed.
Everyone finally aboard, a flight attendant came and began saying, "This row and this row are exit rows..." Was she talking about my row? Surely not. Surely I would not be sitting there if it had been the exit row.
As it turned out, the row behind me was the exit row. There was an old man sitting there with a cane. One of the flight attendants came back and asked him about his cane. "Sir," she said apologetically, "this window weighs 65 pounds. The safety of this entire flight depends on you being able to take this window out." He didn't want to move and said he needed the room to stretch his leg out. I don't really know how she convinced him to move, but she did a wonderful job. She didn't lose her patience or insult him at all. I was impressed. I was also quite impressed by the fact that the window weighed 65 pounds! I've never walked the length of an airplane, and I don't really have a concept of how big they are. The idea of one window weighing 65 pounds amazes me! How many windows weighing 65 pounds each are in that airplane? And if that's true, what about the top, the bottom, and the seats? How much does an airplane weigh? That's a lot of weight to get into the air, especially when you add in the people and the luggage!
I did fall asleep. The elderly lady sitting next to me told me later that I didn't snore but that I was "sleeping very soundly". It was good sleep, deep sleep... I needed it. I was wound up and excited.
We finally landed. I think that must have been when I woke up. I had the sensation that I was falling. We must have hit the ground and been speeding toward the gate. That's usually when I feel most like I'm falling.
I was the last person off the plane. It didn't take as long to deplane as it had to board. No one had to stop and talk to Betty. She had already gotten off the plane, and they could probably talk to her on the bus and would be spending the next few days with her on the cruise. That was nice. They just had to get their luggage out of the overhead bins and hope they didn't hit anyone in the head with it because "these items do tend to shift when you're in flight".
I finally got out. The desk clerk called a man to come and help me claim my luggage. He hardly spoke English and tried to insist that I use a wheelchair, saying that it would be easier. His thick Asian accent was very difficult for me to understand, and I was confused at first and didn't realize the matter had been dropped. An elevator door opened, but he had not told me it was an elevator. I remembered stories friends had told me about being made to wait in little rooms while security officers were called or some such nonsense. I panicked, and I have to admit that I made a scene and was embarrassed when I was finally told that it was an elevator. But I had only seen that it was a very small room and that I was being led in and turned around by someone who had moments before been insisting that I must ride in a wheelchair.
The elevator ordeal was over soon enough, and I silently berated myself for making such a scene as we made our way toward the baggage claim area. When we got there, he wanted to know what my bags looked like. I could never remember the color, but they each had a red bandana on the handle and they belonged to a matching set. The larger one had a bell on it. That was my creative idea for the week. I thought that if I put a bell on my bag, I might be able to hear it coming. If I heard it coming, I could identify it for the person who was helping me claim my bags. The idea worked like a charm. I waited while the luggage rolled by. Suddenly I heard it! "ding, ding, ding..." That was the signal for my big bag--and the smaller one wasn't far behind.
The Asian man loaded all three of my bags onto my luggage cart. I thought this was some feat. He had laid them down and stacked them, the largest on the bottom and my flimsy, jam-packed carry-on bag on top. I didn't think I would have been so creative.
Then we set about the task of finding the limo driver. I couldn't remember the name of the company. I assumed the drivers would be hanging around the baggage claim area as they had been when I came to get Elli. But we couldn't find one. So I went to a pay phone and called the Seeing Eye. I was told to wait by the baggage area and the driver would find me soon. I did, and he found me and said that he had to pick up another student at another area further down the concourse. I went with him, and eventually she arrived. Her name was Darlene. She was in her forties or fifties and was getting her first dog. She was rather quiet and reserved, but she was nice.
Eventually, we arrived at the Seeing Eye and were met on the front porch by two staff members: Judy Deuschle, the director of student services, and Jane, our instructor. Judy handed me a UPS package which had arrived that day: my brand-new glasses. They had come in to the eye care center on Friday, but I had been unable to pick them up. So Mom had paid for them to be sent overnight to the Seeing Eye. I was thrilled ... but at the same time I was afraid they wouldn't be very helpful and that I had wasted the rehabilitation system's time and money.
Jane took me up to my room so that I could unpack. She left me alone, but before too long a lady named Debbie came in to verify my address and a nurse came in to take notes regarding my medications. Then they left me alone.
The first thing I did was try on my glasses. I was amazed. I could see my bed. I could see my window. I could see my desk. ...
The next thing I did was start unpacking. I had expected to go for a walk right away like I had when I was here in 1991. That didn't happen.
Eventually, Jane did come and show me and Darlene around the building. Much was still as it had been when I was here in 1991 getting Elli, my now retired guide. However, some additions had been made--and these I would have to get used to.
One thing which had changed since 1991 was "Dog Day". It used to be Sunday. Now it was Monday. Sunday was reserved for spending some time with "practice dogs". We were told that they were half-trained dogs. This was all right, I supposed. At least I would get to touch one, play with it and love it. I had done a lot of thinking and realized that I approached this training with a completely different perspective from the one I had when I came to training in 1991. I think I appreciate it more and am more ready and excited. I feel a little bit guilty about that.<
Supper was good. This week, we'll be sitting with our class and one student from another class. The word "class" is perhaps a bit deceptive. It has a double meaning. In one sense, it refers to the whole group of students who are here right now--23 of us. However, these 23 students are also divided into five subsets which are also called classes. This week, we sit with our class, meaning the group of students who are all training with the same instructor. There is one extra seat at our table which is used by one of another group of students who have a different instructor.
Our table is very unique this time. In 1991, we hardly spoke. This time, no one is very quiet--not even Darlene! Someone is usually telling a joke or a funny story or making a wisecrack. Darlene sits on my left side. To my right is a girl named Stella, who is a year younger than I am. Across from Darlene is Tim; across from me is Anna; and across from Stella is an older lady from another class named Shirley. Jane sits at the head of the table at Darlene's end.
After supper, we had a meeting. One of the instructors went over some basic rules and procedures, and we were given a tape with the welcome message. All of the lectures have now been put on tape. We get them ahead of time so that we can listen to them and talk about them the next day. I think I like this approach much better than sitting through a long lecture.
After the meeting, I went down to the technology center and checked my email. I'm very glad to be able to do this. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stay in touch with my friends.
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