An Angel in Copenhagen (2013)
by a jet-lagged Michael Malloy, LCSW
Air travel internationally is basically a nightmare (even more so with COVID) unless you have a few thousands in extra cash lying around to pay for one of the 'suites' in first class at the front of the plane. All of us commoners must enter the plane through this section to make it clear to you which caste you belong to...as opposed to the 'nobility'. All three Scandinavian countries we visited have monarchies, they all have royal families— a rather interesting aspect of national culture. Very similar to England, they are democracies with nobles as 'consultants'. If the royals didn’t have their own plane, I’m certain the caste system of our flight would have had them up front.
In the economy section it is cramped (especially if you’re 6’ or more) You’re trapped for the 7-9 hours experience. After our first flight to Chicago, the next leg to Copenhagen included a storm there in Chicago adding an extra hour sitting on the tarmac before departure. The food...well...you know...similar to hospital food. Going east over the big pond you tell yourself you need to sleep. Good luck. We'd bought fancy neck pillows...looks like a neck brace...to keep your head up, from falling forward. Works so, so. This time we found a homeopathic remedy at REI to ward off jet lag. It failed. There are a slew of movies you could be watching...but you know that if you stay up all night watching movies...you'll be brain dead even more when you arrive. Let me just say it, the flying is the very worst part of any European adventure.
Then, when your wife gets sick...it really takes the experience to a whole new level. Jeannie had an extended Vasovagal Syncope episode...I won't bore you with all the details...but basically she passed out four times. It was a long, long trip to London. Then we'd never been through Heathrow before...oh my. You must have to travel through there to get to hell...or at least, it's the first way-station. I had asked for a wheel chair to help us make it through. The flight attendants on American called ahead for one. We were told to wait until to plane was empty (big plane took over twenty minutes). We made our way to the jet way where we waited for another 10 minutes for the chair to arrive. Finally someone with very broken English...far from the King's English, did show up. He pushed Jeannie up the jet-way and left us at the end of it saying he would return...never did. After another 10+ minutes I returned to the plane. The American attendant, surprised that we were still there, said I could push her myself—just look for the purple signs throughout Heathrow. Brain dead and exhausted from the previous flight...but with no apparently other options I loaded her in the chair, piled on carry-ons, jackets and purse and took off…O. J. Simpson style. (You may be too young for that one) With my trail running shoes on, I sprinted through Heathrow searching for purple signs. I'd trotted what seemed to be about 20 miles when I saw we had to board a bus to Terminal three changing airlines to British Air. We had to leave the wheel chair. The bus was totally loaded but a kind man saw my white as a sheet wife and offered his seat. The trip to Terminal 3 seemed like 15-20 minutes more, our connection time all this time being eaten away. We made it to our gate only after going through yet another security check the likes of which I've never had before in my life. The guy who patted me down knows me better in places than I know myself. He was VERY personal. Because I was exhausted and firing on one cylinder and had not anticipated another security check I'd not removed this and that from my cargo pockets...which he probably pegged me a cocky American for what appeared to be the lack of cooperation on my part...so he decided to feel me out. We finally made it...although after the amount of ‘intimate’ time I spent with that guy I thought of sharing a cigarette (although I don’t smoke).
We got settled on the British Airways plane to Copenhagen—but for one more curtain call, Jeannie passed out again. Thankfully her stomach was empty. The British Airlines steward was kind and very helpful considerably more so than on the previous American flight. A fellow passenger next to her moved across the aisle and Jeannie was able to lay down with her head in my lap for most the trip. (FYI When someone is passing out, it is most often helpful to let them lie down.) British Airlines called ahead to get a wheel chair and someone to help us in Copenhagen. As we arrived this very sweet blond, classically Scandinavian woman met us, got Jeannie into another wheelchair and pushed her all the way through the Copenhagen airport...through security, through customs..stopping for us to get some Danish kroner at an ATM...taking us all the way to the car providing our transfer to the hotel. She was a veritable angel! She spoke easily understood English and so sweet...did I say that before...it bears repeating.
I have kicked myself several times for not tipping her...I thanked her profusely but should have tipped her for her over the top kindnesses. Not understanding Danish kroner and the conversion---the ATM gave me a few big bills. (there are 5.73 kr to the dollar--so $20 is equal to kr114.63). Being brain dead I didn’t want to insult her with a cheap tip. Suffice it to say, I should have just pulled out $20 American money to let her know how wonderful it was the she was the first Dane we met. She was our great Dane! An exceptional ambassador, I’ve prayed that God would bless her daily in some way that would let her know we will be eternally grateful that she was a kind human being that was an exceptional end to what had been a horrendous trip.
Photo credit: Moose photos/Pexels
God bless her still! I hope she’s won the lottery several times and is richer than royalty!