Landing Due To A Medical Emergency!

This post became so long that I decided it need to have a picture to make it more interesting. Unfortunately, I didn't have a camera on my trip so I decided to go with this picture from a good 10-13 years ago that has nothing to do with this post other than it is a picture of me and a plane. I never even got into the plane above. I could further explain the picture, but if you thought about it for a few seconds you'd realize that you don't really care - you're just reading this to find out about the medical emergency. On with the story...

On one of my recent trips to Philadelphia (Yes, I've been there multiple times over the past 3 weeks), my flight had to make an emergency landing in Pittsburgh, PA. You might notice that those cities are in the same state, so you know that the emergency couldn't wait.

I managed to get stuck near the back of the plane with very little room once the person in front of me reclined their chair, but managed to squeeze my laptop onto my lap to watch a movie on it. There was an in flight movie, but I had already seen it on another flight and there is only so much Ice Age a guy can take. The one nice thing about my seat was being next to the window. I love the window seats. Putting things away and getting up to allow someone else to get out to uses the restroom is slightly annoying to me. Once I'm in my seat, I'm there for the entire flight 98.5% of the time on flights 7 hours or less.

Frantically running down the isle came a flight attendant. He was nearly yelling, so I would have heard him asking, "Is anyone a doctor?!" even if I hadn't noticed the blur of his blue uniform streak past my row. A hand shot up, earphones came off, and a man in [I'd guess] his 50s or 60s sitting a few rows behind me stood and walked with the flight attendant as the situation was explained to him at an auction style pace. All this immediately got everyone's attention and, like gophers peaking from their holes, we looked around to figure out the reason for this inquiry.

It wasn't hard to find the focal point of the unfolding drama. Hearing the explanation as the flight attendant explained it to the doctor as they passed my row did help me know what to look for, but I couldn't have missed the big wad of napkins being held to the forehead of a man about five rows up on the right side of the plane (I was on the left). The man's head was tilted backward and a flight attendant, who had been serving drinks from a cart, was tending to the man with the a fore mentioned napkins.

Apparently, a "jerk", as I later heard him referred to by multiple people, wouldn't wait for the service cart to get out of the way and decided to reach around it and open an overhead bin to get something out. Unfortunately for the victim, a laptop of unknown ownership (I don't know who's it was anyway) was poorly stowed and toppled out. An edge of the laptop collided with the victim's forehead causing an injury which released the red bodily fluid commonly known as blood in the English language.

The doctor attended to the victim for a while, then returned to his seat after instructing the victim and the flight crew that the victim should not go to sleep the remainder of the flight and should seek further medical attention after landing.

At this point you are probably trying to anticipate what caused the emergency medical landing. You may be thinking, "Perhaps the man fell asleep and couldn't be aroused" or "Maybe he had a seizure" or "Maybe the man assaulted the 'jerk' in retaliation." You'd be completely wrong. The medical emergency that caused the landing had nothing to do with a laptop paying an uninvited visit to someone's forehead.

About thirty minutes later the same blue streak went by, retrieved the doctor, and led him to another passenger in distress. This time a man was sweating and feeling faint. I never got more detail than that about what the problem was, so I can only tell you what I saw and heard - a medical kit, a request for clean cloth and alcohol, an IV was setup, a woman walking back to the bathroom with blood on her hands (probably related to the IV).

Over the intercom, the pilot told us that we'd be landing in Pittsburgh due to a medical emergency and the plane immediately began descending. It was the quickest decent and landing I've ever seen. Even taxiing to the gate was fast. Emergency crews were ready to go when we got there, boarding the plane as soon as we stopped. Four men, two from the fire crew and two from the ambulance, assisted in carrying off the faint passenger. I didn't notice the earlier victim being removed from the plane, so I think he stuck it out until the flight made it to Philadelphia. After refueling in Pittsburgh, we were off again.

When we originally took off the pilot told us that he expected us to land early, but after the emergency landing we ended up coming in a bit late. It wasn't too bad though - I had a very interesting flight and still made it to my final destination, eh.

A few months earlier I had another interesting flight on which a man was warned by a flight attendant that he was very, very close to being arrested, but that is whole different story and not quite as interesting.

Lost Treasures In The Box Of Random Stuff

This post's title is the working title of my next preteen geared chapter book about a misunderstood 11 year-old girl named Kendra Stuff who is left with her grandfather for the holidays when her widowed mother is needed to provide disaster assistance in a hurricane ravaged coastal town. Kendra had never liked visiting her Grandpa Stuff - he was odd, like the number 11. His clothing exhibited a certain disdain for order and fashion, and he constantly wanted to talk. Talk, talk, talk. He wasn't interested in conversation either; he wanted to talk and he wanted her to be the audience for his tall tales. Kendra figured that Grandpa Stuff's stories must be completely made up because their flamboyant, nonsensical plots seemed like her grandfather's name, Random. But that all changed one afternoon when she was sent to dust the attic, opened a box, and found herself propelled into the tallest tale she had ever known.

OK, I made all that up. By now, you've either stopped reading, skipped to the pictures and captions to try to figure out what they have to do with that story, or you are extremely disappointed that you'll never know what happens to Kendra Stuff.

Actually, the title of this post is in reference to the box I just went though which had been sitting in Gage's closet for the past 3 years, before it was even his closet. The lid was busted, so I decided it was a good time to see what was in there and get rid of it.

A lot of junk is getting thrown out, like this old video camera that doesn't work. I was saving this to use for a prop in a little movie. Not that I had any ideas that would require it, but it would be perfect for anything that required dropping or destroying a camera. Time for it to go (unless anyone has some good ideas for a short video that could use a broken camera).


There were a few lost treasures though.

A poster I made some years ago commemorating the various milestones in my penny saving - the 100, 200, and 300 dollar pennies. If you didn't know I saved pennies for years and years (and still do), then that probably seems really odd (like the number 37) - I don't go around asking everyone for their pennies like I did in high school. If you click on the picture, you might be able to see the text at the bottom explaining how it all started.

Some penny memorabilia.

• A cut out of me with a beard on a jar lid that I painted copper. I once saved pennies in the jar this lid went to.
  
• Two penny erasers.
• One of the first 10 million pennies minted in the year 2000 that Cheerios gave out in their cereal boxes for a while. You know that has to be worth at least a cent.
  
• A penny key chain. My favorite part of this was the word "Copy" on the back to make sure you didn't try to spend it or to make sure a cashier didn't accept it as legal tender

I was the employee of the month at Potpourri (Now the PennySaverUSA. I wish they had that name when I worked for them). This picture was printed in their weekly mailer and went all over the San Francisco Bay Area. They asked me to bring in a picture, I brought in several, and the company president liked this one (me too).

In case anyone ever needs one, I am an Electronic Technician. I earned this certificate after taking a class in high school. It was one of the easiest classes I've ever taken and I learned way less than I wanted to. If anyone tries to do electrical work for you and shows you a certificate like this, try not to spray them in the face with saliva when you burst into laughter and walk them out of your house.

Here are some works by Ben Donaldson.

• A "Missing" poster of me.
• A C.A.G.H. bumper sticker.
• A wedding announcement that he made up saying he was engaged to Holly Watkins (Tylerr's sister) .
  

A pic of Sam Hale and I at someone else's prom. It was a blind date for all four of us. Sam and I met up with the girls at one of their houses with a truck full of different suites, including regular old tuxes, but they picked out the polyester masterpieces you see above. Sam and I were complimented on our snazzy dressing several times - and rightly so. I've always thought Sam and I had good taste for stylin' polyester outfits. And, before anyone asks - I have no idea why I seem to be imitating Napoleon (not Dynamite) and yes, those are napkins on our heads.

And, lastly, the boxes for our wedding rings. We picked them out at the same time. Unfortunately, Aimee's ring is in Portland, OR right now while she's visiting her brother Andy. I'm at home alone until she and Gage get back Wednesday. Ahhhhhhhhhh!

New C.A.G.H. Sidebar

It's about time that we found some way to get some of these creative works online for the world to enjoy (or at least any one who actually reads our blog and cares). This new C.A.G.H. sidebar gadget provides easy access to those old stories Ben wrote in high school, the videos Glen shot and edited in high school, audio recordings of Aimee's family doing karaoke when they were younger as well as "The Zoo" performed by Glen, the original cover art for "The Movie", and lots more.

The C.A.G.H. sidebar also has some great features, including:
- Full screen video if you click on the full screen icon in the video player.
- Audio can be played right in the browser, but is also available for download as mp3s.
- Click on images and large versions will open in a new window.
- Sort literature by title or author.
- Literature is downloadable as pdf files.

There are probably many more things that ought to be included, but I either haven't had time to get them online or I don't have a copy. If you know of something that should be included, let me know, commenting on this post or emailing me both are acceptable - toilet papering my house, throwing pebbles at my window, and/or serenading me with a bad mariachi group are not acceptable.

If you have absolutely no idea what Citizens Against Globe Hats is, you'll definitely need to check out the sidebar and read "The C.A.G.H. Story" by Ben.

Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride

If you’ve been to Disneyland, then you’ll understand the reference to Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.

So, work wanted me to go to New Hampshire. I woke up before dawn had the inkling to crack and had a bowl of the cereal we always find on the floor at church, but I don’t spill any. It was early, I was tired, and my stomach was reminding me of the midnight snack it asked for a few hours earlier. Cheerios was simple, quick, and enough to quiet my tummy and get me on the motorway (That’s a fancy word for “road” that I’m using so that my trip within the U.S. sounds more exotic.).

I got in the car and buckled my safety belt. After all, it is the law – “Click it or Ticket.” I’ve always thought seat belts were a good idea and never understood the offense some people seem to take at the idea that the government says they should wear one. I once thought about making a belt for my pants with a seat belt buckle; one of the buckles from an old car so it would be more stylish.

After parking at San Francisco International Airport, I hiked down to the ground level, taking the elevator for some added button pressing exercise (“And one, and … Oh, I guess I only have to press it once.), and hopped on a shuttle.

I think shuttle drivers all go to the same driving school, where they are trained in taking off as soon as the last passenger’s second foot leaves the sidewalk. Our driver took corners like the best of them – sending everyone inside swinging from side to side. Those standing (with me among them) had the toughest time of it until they got their shuttle legs. Shuttle legs are similar to sea legs, but more prone to complete failure – that’s why bars are in there to hold on to. The shuttle had to get on and off the freeway because Long Term Parking is an exit North of the airport, so while all those “safe” drivers were speeding along with their safety belts clicked, us shuttle riders were hanging on for dear life. I now understand why those things that leave the Earth’s atmosphere are also called shuttles (Of course, astronauts get safety belts in their shuttles).

Once on the plane, it was back to “Please keep your safety belt secure while seated.” Most of the turbulence that I’ve felt on planes was the equivalent of driving over potholes in the road (I know of several patches on 101 that worse than turbulence). I know turbulence can be worse on planes, but they have you buckle up while you are doing the equivalent of driving over potholes. Meanwhile, people are careening down 101 in shuttles being operated by ex race car drivers with nothing more than shuttle legs and a bar to hold on to.

(I apologize to anyone who uses a feed reader since you may be seeing this post multiple times. There were some formating issues due to writing up the post in Microsoft Word. I promise not to do that again.)

Ridiculous Restaurant Rant

Isn't alliteration a great way to form a title?

Glen went out to lunch today to a place called Andiamo's in Alviso, CA. Glen hardly ever goes out to lunch, but a group from work was going because one of the guys he works with is leaving. So, he orders combinacion #28 Flautas (it was a Mexican/Italian food restaurant, so "combinacion" is how they spell it) for $7.99.

When Glen's order arrived, he looked at it, unsure if he was brought the wrong order. He stopped the waitress to confirm that what he was looking at was, indeed, #28 Flautas - she said that it was. His plate consisted of the following:
- One flauta about 6-7 inches long and just over a half an inch in diameter
- Guacamole and sour cream
- 1/4-1/3 a cup of beans and the same amount of rice

Does that sound like a $8 meal or what? Glen would go with the "or what" as in "What?! You must be kidding me! One flauta for $8! There is more guacamole on my plate that there is flauta." The menu did say "Flautas" with an "s", not "flauta." So Glen called the waitress over, gave her back the plate, and told her that he wasn't going to pay $8 for one, singular, solitary, solo, tiny flauta.

The waitress brought the menu back over and told him that if he wanted more than one flauta there was another flautas plate that has two flautas for another buck.

By this time, everyone else was ravenously attacking their plates. Had he been there by himself, Glen would have left because, well, he was obviously dealing with crazy people who don't know what an "s" means on the end of a word or the (dropping) value of the American dollar. Glen decided that he wouldn't support such a restaurant by purchasing anything from them and considered asking to talk to the manager, but didn't want to make more of a scene.

After informing the waitress that he would not be ordering anything, she raised her eyebrows and completely froze for a split second, then said "Ok" in an I-don't-know-what-to-do-about-this sort of way before walking to wherever it is that waitresses disappear to when they aren't in the dinning area. She later came out and dropped a tray of glasses, smashing them and spilling ice and liquids all over the floor.

Glen spent the rest of the time at the restaurant eating the free chips and salsa while "shooting the breeze" with his coworkers. Luckily, he had a few snacks at his desk (carrots and cheerios - mmm good) to hold him over until he could get a hold of something more substantial once he was home for dinner.

Run on Story: Comments

Okay - add your comments about the "Run on Story" that aren't story additions to this post.

Run on Story

It seems like we've been going too long between posts, so here is a filler - sort of. You've probably done things like this before. Below is the beginning of a story and it is up to everyone to continue it. The rules:

• Keep posting to just story additions (We know that you probably want to talk about the name we're using for the main character, why some people that can't dance still think they can, or ideas for establishing world peace through sharing flan recipes - post those comments to the "Run on Story: Comments" post above.)
• 3 posts a piece
• No more than 10 sentences per post
• Anything goes (but keep it clean)

Once the story appears to be done, we'll post a poll for what the title should be. We should probably set a deadline for completing the story, but we're not going to for now.

Let the storying begin...

Thrown from a moving vehicle is no way to start a day, but what choice did Chuckles have? He awoke to find himself flying through the crisp air as the sunlight, peaking from behind the distant hills, jabbed at his big brown eyes.

The ground turned out to be harder than it looked through his blurred vision - at least that's what his bare arms told him. He managed to roll to his side in time to watch a black, 2007 Volkswagen Bettle speed away. Not that it mattered that he saw it, there was no license plate and the windows were so dark that Chuckles thought for a split second that if the night drove a car it might look something like that - provided it was a trendy German night, of course.

Chuckles lay still for exactly 47 seconds, tested his legs and arms, then sat up. Something was on his back; it was a backpack, but not his. Dragging himself from the gutter, Chuckles pulled himself onto the sidewalk and started to go through the backpack for some clue as to what was going on. The first thing he pulled out was a egg salad sandwich...