63 A Ticket Home

When you haven’t slept through a night in over three weeks, and also find it impossible to nap during the day, what’s most on your mind is sleep.

And so the otherwise shocking news that I’d had my leg accidentally drilled through had flowed like water off a duck’s back, relatively speaking.

I was just so thankful and attentive to the fact that this latest prescription, Dormonid Midazolam, was allowing me to sleep anywhere from six to eight hours a night.

Not only did my strength begin to return, but also it was great to be back to the state where I could actually complete my thoughts, not to speak of once again regaining a semblance of clarity and continuity.

I also missed home.

So I went ahead and booked my return ticket.

My choice was either a night flight or a day flight, the latter involving a couple hours longer flying time. I chose the day flight, because nights had the potential to be very rough for me. And I figured, for the sake of the passengers around me, I didn’t want to be moaning and groaning in pain for 10 hours.

I had not a few ruminations on how I would fare on this long international flight.

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