French Polynesian Cruise

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Friday, Dec 6, 2013. Almost ready to go.

My respiratory doctor appointment proves promising. My lungs sound clear and I am good to go for my cruise. Yay. That night I start hacking. Again. Saturday I cough almost continually all day long and finally drive to urgent care. That doc thinks that my lungs are spasming, possibly triggered by the sudden cold temps in LA (below 50 F is cold for Los Angeles). Sunday I am feeling pretty darn sick. My ribs ache I have coughed so much.

Sunday, Dec 8, 2013. Let’s fly away . . .

My grandson Bobby comes over toward evening and we share dinner from Taco Bell. He takes my luggage out to the airport shuttle when it comes to pick me up about 7. I think I see him grinning as he goes back into “his house”, but I might be wrong. It’s nice to know he’s there, guardian of the residence and care taker of the house plants. The shuttle picks up my cruise-roommate Dee Dee and off we go to the airport. They've really modernized the International Terminal. We are both impressed. I manage to eat a few tablespoons of what I’m sure would have been a delicious cream of mushroom soup if my taste buds were up to the task of actual tasting.

Once on board the plane, Dee Dee manages to snag three center seats which are empty just prior to take off and I have the two side seats to myself. We both have enough room to curl up, a benefit of being vertically challenged. I won’t detail a long night of rib-cracking coughs (even after a dose of codeine-laced cough medicine). Needless to say I feel sorry for the other passengers.

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