On “Final Approach,” Already “Landed Shortly”

I'm writing this entry while cruising along somewhere around 35,000 feet above the Earth. I'm en route from my office in Minneapolis to my home in Tampa, Florida. This is my last business trip—and only my second since mid-January—before embarking on our vacation. Yup, I finally feel like we're now on final approach to returning to Europe.

If you know me, you know that I travel fairly often for business. However, in 2009 my travels were suddenly and definitively curtailed. George Carlin used to tell jokes about the language used by airlines. One example was “landing shortly,” which understood a certain way implies landing (crashing!) before reaching the runway. Why is this relevant? Well, in mid-January I “landed shortly...” on ice in front of a Burger King. I was walking to my office... in -15 degree weather.

Yes, I'm a Floridian. Yes, walking was stupid. In the fall, I broke my fibula and bruised my pride.

I also exercised my more colorful vocabulary. Indeed, at one point I believe that I used the same four letter word (with and without modifiers) as a noun, verb, adjective, and adverb in a single sentence. With the assistance of my friendly co-workers, I managed to get patched up in the emergency room and packed onto a plane back to Tampa.

I spent six weeks in a non-weight bearing cast.

On February 28, I received my “Darth Boot.”



And, I started physical therapy to rehab my “girlie leg.”

If all continues to go well, I should get the boot off on the 23rd. That's five days before our departure. After a long day, the ankle swells a decent amount. But, I've been relatively pain free. My strength and range of motion are improving. And, most importantly, I've been walking without difficulty. So, I think I'm on final approach to being healed.

I'm hoping the accident (or implications thereof) don't hamper our travels. It's a real concern. We usually spend hours gallivanting around cities. Even under normal conditions, I've been known to suffer leg pain from the effects of our non-stop, go-go pace.

We talked about canceling the trip. But, I figured “what the %&!@ – even if I can't do !&$%, at least I'm not doing !&$% on a ship in the middle of the Mediterranean.” I mean, really, that's not a bad place to not do !&#$, right?

Yup, having already landed shortly, I've got two final approaches to go before we depart.

Then it's bon voyage.