My wheelchair liked Europe so much that it decided to stay an extra day. When my flight from Amsterdam landed in Minneapolis yesterday, we went down to baggage claim to retrieve my wheelchair. But we soon discovered that the wheelchair wasn’t there. What followed were several sheepish apologies from Northwest officials; apparently my chair never got put on the plane in Amsterdam after the flight from Berlin. So I had to plop myself in a regular wheelchair with the ventilator trailing behind me in another chair, making for what must have been an unusual-looking parade through the airport. The poor airline workers had to pool their cash to get me a cab ride home; none of the taxi companies would accept vouchers from the now-bankrupt airline. I had to spend most of today in bed until my chair showed up at around 8:00 tonight. I can only assume that the slight dents in the frame are the result of its lewd behavior in the red light district. When left unsupervised, my chair can be rather impulsive.
My body is still on European time, but it’s time to post some pictures, if for no other reason than to reassure myself that I didn’t dream the last ten days…
