Kathy and John got me to the airport, escorted me as far as they could and then I prayed on the kindness of strangers to get me through the journey home. After going through security I asked the security lady to place my bag on my shoulder, after sitting down waiting to board, I asked the gentleman next to me for help... once I got on the plane I had the flight attendant help me get situated... a boy (though he was likely at least 16) with severe Autism was seated across the aisle from me. I grew concerned a couple times as, obviously hearing some beautiful symphony in his head, he would violently play conductor. I wish that I had been in the time and space to engage him for he seemed able to hold a conversation and was flying alone. I was too drugged up and in too much pain to think of anything but one of those hands accidentally nailing the side of my body. I did however feel sadness at how many people simply stared at him without consciousness to their actions.

About 3 hours into the flight, the plane suddenly dove. The entire plane screamed. Drinks flew all over. Jabbed out of my opiate induced stupor, I grabbed hold of the armrest only to recognize I can't grab... my pec enaged and BAM instantaneous and distinct pain. After everyone calmed down, I looked at my watch, 45 minutes until my next dose... My hands were shaking like leaves in the wind. The sensation of the plane diving was scary enough since I hate to fly but add that to the unintentional effort to "save" myself and I spent the next 45 minutes watching the clock. At least I didn't spill hot coffee all over me like the guy in the window seat. The ladies behind me hyperventilated for a good 15 minutes and kept saying "I want to get off." Yea me too! It was then that I remembered I had forgotten to give Kathy back the little Ganesh she gave me for surgery. I dug it out of the jacket pocket I had put it in at the hospital, placed it in my palm and fiddled with it until the bumps (each of which I felt with acute sensation) finally evened out and the seatbelt light was turned off again.

When I finally had to go to the bathroom, I wasn't sure what to do. The flight attendants were all male and though very kind, I wasn't entirely sure I could get myself into the little bathroom, get the door locked and then get it back open. Fortunately, a lady was standing there and I asked her to keep guard for me. She kindly did so that I could just knock and she could unlatch the door for me when I was done. One advantage to being a yogi is that I have successfully flushed all toilets I've used since surgery with my foot including the one in the tiny airplane bathroom.

The Husband was able to meet me at the gate... when I saw him I just put my head on his shoulder and sobbed. Everything that was in me was just done. Just done. He brought me home, bathed me, washed my hair for me, unpacked all my shit (Naga Kanya is sitting right next to me) and made me some food.

And now I find a way to integrate back into the real world... I'm still in pain. I hate the drugs. I can't get comfortable. I don't want food but I am craving popsicles (which we don't have for some reason). Kathy got me started on those I think but my kids, apparently, ate all of ours.

The Husband and I were talking -- I started Ashtangi.NET but I never expected the blessings it has brought me. I have briefly looked at some blogs and seen so many of you thinking of me. What an amazing, amazing thing this is. Thank you ALL... truly THANK YOU.

(Tiff got your msg.... but haven't had the ability to think about talking. I'll be here all day tomorrow -- as if I could go somewhere else)... thank you for thinking of me... bless your heart, I know this is your big weekend!)