LARGE MAN IN A SMALL SEAT: Our 6 a.m. flight back to Michigan was rough. Tight seats for a big man, and, the ache was there in full effect, so being packed into that seat, and unable to move, was nice a four hour combo. Fuck. 240 horrible minutes packed into that window seat.
We flew into Chicago and quickly caught our connection flight up to Traverse City. Mellow flights.
I wasn’t feeling too hot, so Leigh drove me out to Mom and Dad’s to lay low. We all discussed what I was feeling, and of course, like a big dumbass, I chalked up the latest bout of discomfort due to the tightness of the seating and not sleeping too much the night before. Dumbassery, continued.
Just dumb excuses from a scared little kid. More or less. I should’ve gone in to the hospital that night. But you know, being home is always a soothing elixir, etc. Dad’s killer sandwiches always fix whatever is ailing me. Mom’s chicken noodle soup? The best. But the ache was still there, and hurting away just enough to be scary.
I fell asleep just fine that night, tired and in just enough pain to be afraid of whatever the fuck was going on inside me. Please, just go away.
