Well, that wasn't on the itinerary.

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Geo: 49.0049, 2.57682

Where were we? Oh, yes. Passport control.

We missed our 9:15 flight from Paris to Rome.

So, we went to the Air France desk in Terminal 2F (a place were about to get quite familiar with), and got booked onto the 1:05 pm flight. Because we had business class tickets, we were allowed into the lounge, which was a really great thing. Beverages of all sorts, food, snacks, comfy air chairs, and power plugs. We settled in for a few hours, had a little lunch, and waited for our flight.

Once we got boarded on said flight, things were looking good -- on our way to Rome!

As we were taxiing toward takeoff, Dejo looks at me and says "I'm feeling light-headed."

Oh, crap.

We had a little incident in early 2016, on our way to Seattle, where he felt light-headed on our descent, and then proceeded to spasm, and essentially faint, but in an oh-so-dramatic way.

So here we are again.

I alerted the flight attendants (easy to do when you're in the first row), and they alerted the pilot to a medical situation. As we made our way back to the gate, the 2 attendants and I tended to Dejo, while he floated in and out of consciousness. You thought he was a white boy before -- you oughta see him when all the blood in his body has rushed to his core. Hands the color of a piece of paper.

Scary stuff, but at least he didn't convulse this time. The medical team came onboard, checked his vitals, and got him on the floor (legs elevated), and then they carried him off on a tarp with handles.

We got an ambulance ride!

They took him to the Charles de Gaulle medical center, and gave him 2 liters of IV fluid to get him rehydrated.

We think there are a few contributing factors, of which dehydration is certainly one. We were also pretty exhausted, what with being up til 1:30 Friday night, packing, and just lots and lots of running around.

They released him rather unceremoniously, saying "Okay, they can book you on the next flight". A wheelchair (with attendant) was brought in, and without really giving us any info on what was happening or where we were going, they merrily wheeled us up to the Air France gate, for us to book the next available flight, at 5:15.

We got wheeled into the lounge (hooray again for business class), and found a couple of chairs to hang out in. Nurse Pam kept Dejo supplied with water water water, and I made sure he ate a little something.

It soon became apparent that he wasn't going to feel strong enough to get on the 5:15 flight, so I went to the desk agent in the lounge to get rebooked on the 8:50 pm flight. More hanging out, eating a tiny bit, and water water water.

No? Not this flight, either? <grumble mumph mutter>

I went back to the desk agent -- again -- and changed our flight to the next day. We requested a wheelchair to take us to the Yotel (hotel) in the airport, and I grudgingly cancelled our planned-then-delayed guided tour of Rome with the lovely guide who has taken care of several clients for me.

We'll see Rome another time. Better to do it when I have a healthy hubby with me, yes?

So, we got checked into this Yotel, where your room ("cabin"😉 has a bed and a toilet. In about a 10'x10' space.
I left him there, and went off in search of something to bring back as dinner, but given that this Yotel is waaaaaay at the end of the terminal, that proved to be a challenge.
It was about 9:15 pm when I started this foray, and I was able to procure a banana and a couple of yogurt parfaits at the restaurant that was closing up. I took those back, commanded him to try to eat something, and went off again.
This time, I headed back into the terminal, which meant going through security. I did finally find a couple of pre-made sandwiches at a newsstand, so with that, a giant bottle of water, and some baby biscuits in hand, I headed back.

Thankfully, it seemed that Dejo was starting to feel a little better, though still shivering in fits.

We each rinsed off in the shower, because frankly, we stunk. Wearing the same clothes that you chose for comfort and non-wrinkliness means that they're also not super breathable, and you've been sitting on leather seats all day, and just.......ew.

And........zonk. <cue the snoring>

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Comments

[Francine]

Holy cow, glad it wasn't worse. Give Dejo a hug and then a Gibbs smack for not hydrating.