Has it really been over 2 months since my last blog entry? Time flies when you're .... um... flying.
When I broke my foot, I had just gotten comfortable being captain. By the time I was ready to come back, I had been gone longer than I had been in the left seat. Needless to say, as one who is admittedly afraid of everything, I was full of anxiety about my return. What if I don't remember to sign something? What if I don't catch an error from dispatch? What if we're on fire, lose pressurization, or some other unthinkable emergency, and I draw a total blank on the memory items? What if I suck at being captain?? What if the months of sitting on the couch all day, playing x-box, eating pizza, and killing a bottle of wine a night made me blow up like the Goodyear Blimp, and my boobs, butt, and belly overcome the futile resistance of the cheap fabric that composes our M&H uniforms and I have no choice but to show up naked and jiggly to an airport full of terrified passengers?!?!?
Plus, the longer I stayed home, the more I got used to being around Don and the cat (in my mind, my husband and child, lol), the more I dreaded the thought of being gone. And though I hate to admit it to my work friends who read this, and especially my parents...... despite the obscene amount of money I and the ones I love sank into my career, as hard as I've worked to get here, as proud of me as everyone who ever believed in me is of how far I've come...... I almost didn't come back. The thought of quitting my job and going into nursing school was really tempting. I could even get in for the Fall semester! I just. Didn't. Want. to be away from home any more.
But the thought of putting a needle or a catheter in someone is nauseating...... so, off to work I went.
Luckily, the first flight they had me do was a repo flight from Raleigh to Cleveland. No passengers, and they paired me with the most awesome, patient, super-sweet FO I could have hoped for. It was a great way to ease myself back into the swing of things. She was on reserve, like me, and hooked me up with a great crash pad in Cleveland. After that flight, I felt a lot more confident that I was not a walking tragedy, and that yes.... I do belong in the air. Don't let our CEO know this, but I didn't realize how much I missed work until that flight. Dammit, flying is FUN!
I spent the rest of September and all of October on reserve. For those of you not in the airline industry, when you're on reserve, crew scheduling owns you for at least 12 hours a day. It begins from 0300 - 1500, and then is usually adjusted to suit their needs - most often so that your last day of being on reserve puts you dangerously close to missing the last flight home, or insures that you miss it altogether. Luckily, they used me almost every day, and more often than not, I knew what my schedule would hold at least a day ahead of time. Having a crash pad (a house shared by me and about 11 other airline folk, with a bed of my very own for a flat rate a month) is essential!! Val... I can't thank you enough!!!
As for the feet? Well..... the broken one doesn't hurt. Every now and then, it's a little achy, but most days I don't notice it at all (thanks, ice cream!!). The Neuroma foot still hurts quite a bit. The surgery site is still discolored and feels bruisy. The incision itches like mad sometimes. But the most pain comes from walking in shoes. The good news is, I no longer have electric shooting pain up the 3rd and 4th toes that make me shriek a blood-curdling scream when I set the parking break and scare the hell out of the FO, FA, and first 3 rows of passengers (which was common before my surgery). The bad news is, it feels like I'm stepping on a big rock with each step. Well, not even each step. Sometimes, inexplicably, it doesn't hurt when I walk. My podiatrist says this is due to scar tissue and it will go away eventually. He hasn't steered me wrong yet, so I have faith in him. When people ask how the foot is, I answer honestly - "good steps and bad steps."
In the meantime.... it doesn't hurt when I drink! I'm trying not to fall into the trap of drinking every night to kill the pain, like I did before. I long to return to my healthy lifestyle I had when I was running 4 - 5 days a week. But it just takes time. I truly believe I will get there again, I just don't know when. People tell me that it takes a great deal of time to overcome the trauma of what my foot went through - and looking at the picture of the hunk of meat my doc took out, I'll admit my foot was probably pretty traumatized.
So, luckily there is plenty of money in my uniform account to order bigger uniforms!! The Holiday Season is upon us, and there is plenty of Holiday Cheer to be had.
First round's on me!!
