Monday, 25 January 2016

Going Worried

We are off to Cuba today. By the time most of you read this, we will be somewhere over the central USA, headed on a southeasterly path to Varadero, there to spend a week enjoying sun, rum, and local excursions. We plan on at least one day in Havana, at least for Katherine. I may take that day to sit by the ocean and drink rum punch. Or, if we can get a convertible old-time car and a local driver-guide at a decent price, then I will go along as well. I can sit in the car and drink rum just as well as I can sit at the beach and drink rum.

I know I should be excited about this trip. I know I am tremendously fortunate to go on this kind of adventure one more time in my life. I know I should be looking forward to the beach, the sun, the warmth, the culture, the experiences. Yet mostly what I feel as we get underway at 5:30 AM is worry, concerned for a million little variables which can make a day far more interesting that I would have liked.

I'm worried about our luggage, whether or not we will arrive at the airport this morning to find that it is overweight. I'm overweight already; at least my luggage should conform to some sort of weight guideline. I'm worried about whether or not my computer is safely packed. This machine is my lifeline, my link to a reality outside of ALS. To lose it, even for a week in Cuba, would be a disaster for me.

That's only the beginning. Arrival in Varadero causes me much concern. I worry about the transfer from the airport to the hotel. I know the tour company has nothing provided. Maybe I should have paid the additional $142 and had them arrange it. On the other hand, I know there are local cabs that can do the job just fine. That's what happened last time. But then I worry if they cabbie will gouge us, overcharging us for the fare just because we are touristas.

And of course, what travel adventure would be complete without a worry about the "wheelchair accessible room" at the resort. This is Cuba, not a bastion of handicapped awareness. I am almost certain, even as we are underway, that the wheelchair accessible hotel room will have a bathtub instead of an accessible shower. This will impact my cleanliness for sure. On the other hand, perhaps I can encourage Katherine to give me sponge baths all week. That might be fun.

There are so many thing which can go wrong when you travel with a wheelchair. I've experienced most of them already. My biggest concern is the one which has not yet happened. I've heard of it happening to others. What if Air Transat damages my wheelchair? That really scares me.\

Oh well. I'm the guy who fixes stuff. I'm the guy who makes things work. I'm the guy who looks at trouble and sees adventure. I've got to let that guy take charge. After all, we are on our way and there is nothing to be done about any of it. I might as well relax and enjoy the ride.

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