Thursday, December 11, 2014
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
En route.....
The following morning I got up early and saw my mom off via shuttle to Reagan Airport. After that I went back to bed for a couple hours. Knowing that I wouldn't get any good rest on the plane I figured I should get as much sleep as I could before I started traveling.
When the alarm sounded I got up, dressed and finished packing everything into my big bag with a few things stuffed into my carry on. When the time came I called the front desk and they moved my big bag downstairs where I waited for my shuttle. It was a few minutes late and had me worrying. I was already worried about making all my connections, collecting my bag along the way and all of this with a sprained ankle that needed rest but instead was getting international travel! But just as I was starting to obsess it pulled into the hotel drive.
The shuttle picked up a few more people before dropping us at our respective terminals. I hefted my pack onto my back and said, "Ok, Bridget, you can do this". I started walking down the length of the corridor and after a stretch didn't see Virgin America anywhere. What? I started back because I knew they were located inside Terminal 1. After perusing all the signs I saw a smallish one that led me to their desk that was, unintuitively, around a corner. I wrestled the hip belt from my bag, secured it and put the whole thing into it's carry bag. This I lugged a mercifully short distance to the counter where I checked in without incident. I asked if they could communicate to my connecting flight that I would need a wheelchair to make my connection at LAX. They made the arrangements and asked if I wanted to be wheeled to my gate. I asked how far it was to which they replied, "Kind of far" and then called for a wheelchair. It was good thing we did this. We took a tram then went through a maze of corridors, via the elevators of course, before finally arriving at the gate. As luck would have it there was a Chipotle right next to my gate so I hobbled over and tucked into what would be my last Chipotle meal (and Coke to drink). :) :(
After that I settled in to wait for the flight to start boarding. We flew, with relatively few bumps, to LAX and this time I had magazines, books and a movie screen to keep my busy. Arriving at LAX I was whisked away to my gate in record time. I then stopped by Duty Free for one last Clinique item that had been overlooked when I went shopping earlier in the week. Finding a seat near the gate I sank into it and wondered if I should request a seat change for this flight. I was worried about my ankle and how it would fair. I mean, you get foot swelling during these long flights under normal circumstances. In the end I decided to go up and ask. All they could say was no. So I did. The desk agent took a look at the empty seats and found a "G" that would be perfect for me. So, there are three seats on each bulkhead and four in the middle of the plane. "G" seats are the farthest to the right in the middle section. She put me there because there wasn't anyone sitting in the two seats to the left of it. That way I could put my foot up for part of the flight. This was a lifesaver. I also explained my predicament to a flight attendant and she kept me stocked with bags of ice to pack around my foot. This was no surprise - Air New Zealand has top service! I was pleased that I was able to sleep some of the night and move around enough to stay relatively comfortable. We had no turbulence for which I was grateful. After taking a couple bizarro vegetarian meals, watching a couple movies and sleeping on and off we were making our descent into Auckland! Hooray!
From there, with the help of Air New Zealand staff, was put in another wheelchair and then wheeled over to collect my bag before heading through Customs and Immigration checkpoints. The woman who helped me was a wizard as she managed to push me (to be fair it was a wheelchair that could only be pushed from behind, that is, I couldn't push it!) and maneuver my big bag on a cart. Soon we had dropped off my bag again and were heading through Immigration. I declared my Tylenol with codeine because, if they looked in my bag, they would've found it straightaway. The woman asked, "So what drugs are you bringing it with you?". I explained the ankle situation front the low vantage point of the wheelchair and she was happy enough. Then I needed to transfer to the Domestic Terminal. We boarded the shuttle bus and the attendant who was with me asked a gentleman who had just sat down if I could have his seat. She took very good care of me. We disembarked the bus and she left me with one of her colleagues who took me to my gate where she verified my information to make sure we were in the right place. From there the desk agents asked if I could walk on the plane to which I responded, "Yes". However, one of them was a woman in her 50s, probably a mom. She insisted that she wheel me on board. At that point I was exhausted and not arguing with anyone. :) After getting situated in my seat another wheelchair bound woman boarded with her husband. She had a broken foot so we commiserated for a few minutes while everyone else piled into their seats around us.
The little flight, just 46 minutes, went quickly and I was preparing myself for the stereotypically bumpy landing in Wellington. But it never happened. We landed with a few small bumps and I thought, "Yes! Soon I'll see Timmy!". They opened the doors and a wheelchair came to get me. I was scanning faces as soon as we emerged from the jetway. And there he was! After everything I had made it home. Within a few minutes we picked up my bag and I breathed a sigh of relief. For some reason I always wonder if my bag will arrive when I travel.
From there we took a cab home where I found that Timmy had bought all my favorite NZ things (like Tim Tams and cider) in addition to some gorgeous fresh flowers. It goes without saying: IT WAS SO GOOD TO BE HOME! :)
When the alarm sounded I got up, dressed and finished packing everything into my big bag with a few things stuffed into my carry on. When the time came I called the front desk and they moved my big bag downstairs where I waited for my shuttle. It was a few minutes late and had me worrying. I was already worried about making all my connections, collecting my bag along the way and all of this with a sprained ankle that needed rest but instead was getting international travel! But just as I was starting to obsess it pulled into the hotel drive.
The shuttle picked up a few more people before dropping us at our respective terminals. I hefted my pack onto my back and said, "Ok, Bridget, you can do this". I started walking down the length of the corridor and after a stretch didn't see Virgin America anywhere. What? I started back because I knew they were located inside Terminal 1. After perusing all the signs I saw a smallish one that led me to their desk that was, unintuitively, around a corner. I wrestled the hip belt from my bag, secured it and put the whole thing into it's carry bag. This I lugged a mercifully short distance to the counter where I checked in without incident. I asked if they could communicate to my connecting flight that I would need a wheelchair to make my connection at LAX. They made the arrangements and asked if I wanted to be wheeled to my gate. I asked how far it was to which they replied, "Kind of far" and then called for a wheelchair. It was good thing we did this. We took a tram then went through a maze of corridors, via the elevators of course, before finally arriving at the gate. As luck would have it there was a Chipotle right next to my gate so I hobbled over and tucked into what would be my last Chipotle meal (and Coke to drink). :) :(
After that I settled in to wait for the flight to start boarding. We flew, with relatively few bumps, to LAX and this time I had magazines, books and a movie screen to keep my busy. Arriving at LAX I was whisked away to my gate in record time. I then stopped by Duty Free for one last Clinique item that had been overlooked when I went shopping earlier in the week. Finding a seat near the gate I sank into it and wondered if I should request a seat change for this flight. I was worried about my ankle and how it would fair. I mean, you get foot swelling during these long flights under normal circumstances. In the end I decided to go up and ask. All they could say was no. So I did. The desk agent took a look at the empty seats and found a "G" that would be perfect for me. So, there are three seats on each bulkhead and four in the middle of the plane. "G" seats are the farthest to the right in the middle section. She put me there because there wasn't anyone sitting in the two seats to the left of it. That way I could put my foot up for part of the flight. This was a lifesaver. I also explained my predicament to a flight attendant and she kept me stocked with bags of ice to pack around my foot. This was no surprise - Air New Zealand has top service! I was pleased that I was able to sleep some of the night and move around enough to stay relatively comfortable. We had no turbulence for which I was grateful. After taking a couple bizarro vegetarian meals, watching a couple movies and sleeping on and off we were making our descent into Auckland! Hooray!
From there, with the help of Air New Zealand staff, was put in another wheelchair and then wheeled over to collect my bag before heading through Customs and Immigration checkpoints. The woman who helped me was a wizard as she managed to push me (to be fair it was a wheelchair that could only be pushed from behind, that is, I couldn't push it!) and maneuver my big bag on a cart. Soon we had dropped off my bag again and were heading through Immigration. I declared my Tylenol with codeine because, if they looked in my bag, they would've found it straightaway. The woman asked, "So what drugs are you bringing it with you?". I explained the ankle situation front the low vantage point of the wheelchair and she was happy enough. Then I needed to transfer to the Domestic Terminal. We boarded the shuttle bus and the attendant who was with me asked a gentleman who had just sat down if I could have his seat. She took very good care of me. We disembarked the bus and she left me with one of her colleagues who took me to my gate where she verified my information to make sure we were in the right place. From there the desk agents asked if I could walk on the plane to which I responded, "Yes". However, one of them was a woman in her 50s, probably a mom. She insisted that she wheel me on board. At that point I was exhausted and not arguing with anyone. :) After getting situated in my seat another wheelchair bound woman boarded with her husband. She had a broken foot so we commiserated for a few minutes while everyone else piled into their seats around us.
The little flight, just 46 minutes, went quickly and I was preparing myself for the stereotypically bumpy landing in Wellington. But it never happened. We landed with a few small bumps and I thought, "Yes! Soon I'll see Timmy!". They opened the doors and a wheelchair came to get me. I was scanning faces as soon as we emerged from the jetway. And there he was! After everything I had made it home. Within a few minutes we picked up my bag and I breathed a sigh of relief. For some reason I always wonder if my bag will arrive when I travel.
From there we took a cab home where I found that Timmy had bought all my favorite NZ things (like Tim Tams and cider) in addition to some gorgeous fresh flowers. It goes without saying: IT WAS SO GOOD TO BE HOME! :)
Monday, December 8, 2014
Rest day....
The next day we did no sightseeing. Instead, Jess drove up to Silver Spring to have lunch with us. Then we spent the rest of the afternoon working on the computer. I help my mom set up her very own blog. She writes a monthly design column for their local newspaper and is branching out to a blog: yourdesignstyle.blogspot.com.
I also spent a decent amount of the day with my foot elevated and packed with ice. It was feeling a little bit better each day but I was still dreading the following day when I would embark on the long journey from DC to Wellington. In an effort to make my bag as light as possible I practiced packing and sent a few things back with my mom. Anything I could spare I sent with her. In the end it really was a lot lighter even though I was bringing a decent amount of Clinique back with me. :)
I also spent a decent amount of the day with my foot elevated and packed with ice. It was feeling a little bit better each day but I was still dreading the following day when I would embark on the long journey from DC to Wellington. In an effort to make my bag as light as possible I practiced packing and sent a few things back with my mom. Anything I could spare I sent with her. In the end it really was a lot lighter even though I was bringing a decent amount of Clinique back with me. :)
Monuments....
After Air & Space everyone was ready to call it a day for my sake but I could have none of that! The pain wasn't too bad, I had my tylenol with codeine if needed and riding in the wheelchair had saved a huge number of steps.
Initially, mom and I had agreed that we would do the "monuments walk" around the National Mall. This would get us near many of the monuments and let's face it: I wanted to see them all! But with the ankle messing up plans we compromised and set off to see a few of them. First up was the Lincoln Memorial. If I only got to see a limited number of monuments I wanted this one to be the first. We drove as close as we could get and Meredith and Meegan dropped us off and went to find parking. Jess, mom and I took some snaps out front before walking over to get a front-on view of Honest Abe.
With one last stop still in me, our gracious drivers dropped us off at the World War II Memorial. The sun was sinking fast, with temperatures dipping to match. I hobbled along to take in both sides of the memorial. It was quite beautiful.
Initially, mom and I had agreed that we would do the "monuments walk" around the National Mall. This would get us near many of the monuments and let's face it: I wanted to see them all! But with the ankle messing up plans we compromised and set off to see a few of them. First up was the Lincoln Memorial. If I only got to see a limited number of monuments I wanted this one to be the first. We drove as close as we could get and Meredith and Meegan dropped us off and went to find parking. Jess, mom and I took some snaps out front before walking over to get a front-on view of Honest Abe.
We slowly made our way over to the front of the monument. From there you could turn around and get stunning view down the length of the National Mall, over the Reflecting Pool and Washington Monument, past the World War II Memorial all the way to the Capitol Building at the far end. I had to laugh when I was lining up photos because it looked like the Capitol Building was photobombing the Washington Monument. :)
Turning around to take in the Lincoln Memorial in all its glory immediately my heart sank. There were so many stairs! :( And of course I really wanted to go up! But Jess saved me from a minor meltdown when he deftly located the elevator. I mean, of course they have one, I just had never needed one before now. So we zipped up, stepped out of the elevator and around a corner. We had walked right out next to where he's sitting and the effect was nothing short of breathtaking. I stood for a long time taking it all in while balancing lightly on my sore ankle. Next, I perused the walls where two of his speeches had been engraved into the stone: The Gettysburg Address and his Second Inaugural Address. In a word: WOW.
From there we walked down via the Vietnam War Memorial. I was instantly struck by a somber, sobering feeling as I looked at what seemed like an endless number of names inscribed in the stone.
Tired and cold I had reached my limit for the day. All things considered I was very happy with everything we'd been able to accomplish despite my injurious setback. From there we headed back towards Silver Spring where we happily sat down to a Tex Mex dinner. (Not Chipotle!)
Social experiment.....
So I'm not a psychologist. Of any variety. Despite the fact that I completed my Master's degree and am partway through my PhD within a School of Psychology. I've never been trained in Psychology but being in these departments I've learned a tad about the overall subject. As a Master's student at MSU we were required to take courses in addition to our research and teaching commitments. One of the courses we took was Social Psychology and it afforded me a glimpse into a bizarre, subjective and often confusing world of all things social. I'm telling you this because, especially after taking that class, I had never had a desire to conduct a social experiment of any kind. And yet the day we visited Air & Space I was placed in a situation where I inadvertently conducted a social experiment for the first time ever. I never intended for this to happen. It just did. You probably see where I'm going with this. Being a person of sound body and mind I took in not only Air & Space from the vantage point of a wheelchair; I also had the opportunity to observe the behavior of everyone around me. Specifically their reactions to me: a person, they didn't know, in a wheelchair. From the chair I immediately noticed that people were doing one of two things: either they were purposefully avoiding eye contact with me (while simultaneously looking uncomfortable) or they were looking right at me with expressions of "I feel so bad for you" on their faces. Initially, I almost laughed out loud. I wanted to say, "Look, I'm just an idiot who took a misstep going down some stairs", "It's just a sprained ankle!". But there was no time or place for that to happen. I also noticed that innumerable parents who saw us coming where grabbing their children and yanking them out of our way. It was like the sea parting, magically, as we rolled through the museum's many exhibits and wings.
Then it got better. I realized something. Jess, who had been pushing me around the whole time, had decided to wear a Wounded Warrior shirt. The campaign supports and honors wounded veterans and he had wanted to contribute and thus bought some of their merchandise. Like the shirt he was wearing that day. To push me in a wheelchair around Air & Space! Yeah. We must've looked like quite the pair. :) Then I really felt like an idiot. Not just an idiot but an impostor! By no means am I a wounded vet - just someone with a sprained ankle trying to see Air & Space! I was so embarrassed, still am.
So there you have it. This was the social experiment I never intended to conduct. It was a powerful reminder that we make assumptions about other people all the time. Sometimes they are more wrong that you might imagine! Food for thought.
Air & Space.....
The next morning my mom and I took a bagful of random stuff to USPS and mailed it to NZ. Considering the sprained ankle, the initial weight of my bag that I'd have to carry on my back, and the fact that we had done a decent amount of shopping I had to mail some of it home.
We then returned to the hotel where I rested and iced my ankle again before wrapping it up. Then the hotel shuttle kindly dropped us off at the metro station, embarrassingly only three blocks away from the hotel. But with a badly sprained ankle mom was echoing the doctors orders when she said, "No, we're going to take the shuttle". I rolled my eyes and acquiesced. She was right but I didn't want to admit it. :) Once there we waited for a few minutes and then boarded the metro bound for the city center. We got off at Judiciary Square and found that the exit we needed to put us exactly where Meredith, Meegan and Jess would pick us up was closed! So I hobbled to the other end of the station and up the escalator that was thankfully, running. We were familiar with this particular metro location as we had walked this exact path the day before on the way to the Library of Congress. With experience on our side we were able to take as few steps as possible to walk a couple blocks to the other entrance. Upon arriving we started scanning for their vehicle but didn't see it. After a few minutes they zipped up to the curb and we piled in, carefully of course. They saw that the entrance had been closed and so drove over to the other one where we did come out. Ships passing in the night. With that sorted we set off for the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum. After going through security we secured a wheelchair for me. I handed over my NZ driver's license as collateral and plopped myself into the chair. Even at that point, there hadn't been a ridiculous amount of walking, I was happy to be able to sit down. :) My brother, Jess, was a good sport and pushed me all around and stopped wherever I wanted. Aw. I know, right? A little sibling bonding time. :) Air & Space was nothing short of incredible. We stayed for a couple hours but you could spend days taking in all the planes, engines, shuttles, models and related equipment.
I was most excited to see the Spirit of St. Louis: the famous aircraft that Charles Lindbergh piloted from New York to Paris in 1927. I recently finished a brilliant tome by Bill Bryson called One Summer, America 1927 where he recounts the lead up to this famous flight in addition to other historical highlights of that particular summer. A must read! With this in mind I was very anxious to see this plane. We wheeled our way around the first floor and then took the elevator up to the second. And there it was. My initial reaction was that it was all so anticlimactic. The plane looked as though it was a model of a plane rather than the plane itself. It was covered in fabric skin and looked as if it wouldn't survive a loop around the National Mall let alone make it safely across the Atlantic Ocean. Incredible!!
We then returned to the hotel where I rested and iced my ankle again before wrapping it up. Then the hotel shuttle kindly dropped us off at the metro station, embarrassingly only three blocks away from the hotel. But with a badly sprained ankle mom was echoing the doctors orders when she said, "No, we're going to take the shuttle". I rolled my eyes and acquiesced. She was right but I didn't want to admit it. :) Once there we waited for a few minutes and then boarded the metro bound for the city center. We got off at Judiciary Square and found that the exit we needed to put us exactly where Meredith, Meegan and Jess would pick us up was closed! So I hobbled to the other end of the station and up the escalator that was thankfully, running. We were familiar with this particular metro location as we had walked this exact path the day before on the way to the Library of Congress. With experience on our side we were able to take as few steps as possible to walk a couple blocks to the other entrance. Upon arriving we started scanning for their vehicle but didn't see it. After a few minutes they zipped up to the curb and we piled in, carefully of course. They saw that the entrance had been closed and so drove over to the other one where we did come out. Ships passing in the night. With that sorted we set off for the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum. After going through security we secured a wheelchair for me. I handed over my NZ driver's license as collateral and plopped myself into the chair. Even at that point, there hadn't been a ridiculous amount of walking, I was happy to be able to sit down. :) My brother, Jess, was a good sport and pushed me all around and stopped wherever I wanted. Aw. I know, right? A little sibling bonding time. :) Air & Space was nothing short of incredible. We stayed for a couple hours but you could spend days taking in all the planes, engines, shuttles, models and related equipment.
I was most excited to see the Spirit of St. Louis: the famous aircraft that Charles Lindbergh piloted from New York to Paris in 1927. I recently finished a brilliant tome by Bill Bryson called One Summer, America 1927 where he recounts the lead up to this famous flight in addition to other historical highlights of that particular summer. A must read! With this in mind I was very anxious to see this plane. We wheeled our way around the first floor and then took the elevator up to the second. And there it was. My initial reaction was that it was all so anticlimactic. The plane looked as though it was a model of a plane rather than the plane itself. It was covered in fabric skin and looked as if it wouldn't survive a loop around the National Mall let alone make it safely across the Atlantic Ocean. Incredible!!
Friday, December 5, 2014
Big Hero 6.....
We saw the movie Big Hero 6. It was excellent and laugh out loud funny; I would recommend it! The theater screens were located on an upper level so when we came out of the movie we headed towards the escalators but they were not running and blocked off. So we started down the several flights of dimly lit stairs. At each break in the stairs there was a yellow line on the stair flush with the level landing before beginning the next set of stairs. I went first lightly running my hand along the railing. Not many know this but as a small child I fell down an escalator and was just lucky enough that my very long hair didn't get caught in it. Admittedly, I've been scarred for life and try to be extra careful when riding escalators and going down stairs. Hence, the reason I was walking close to the railing. I reached the bottom set of stairs, saw the yellow line denoting level ground and then before I knew what was happening my foot was crumpling under my weight and my mind was working to get my body to catch me as I fell to the ground. For some reason that last yellow line on the bottom stair meant there was still one step to go before level ground.
My mom rushed down to me and asked, "Oh my gosh, are you ok?!". At that point I was standing, clutching the railing with my left foot raised off the ground. The misstep was so unexpected that it took a couple seconds to realized what had happened. Then I started to see stars and said, "Mom, I feel like I'm going to pass out". I sat down on the steps straightaway and waited for the stars to pass. They did and from there, leaning on Mom I limped back to the hotel. Thankfully, it was only around the corner. We arrived at our room where I elevated my foot on a big pile of pillows and packed ice around it.
Sitting there I began fuming. I was so angry with myself! How could this happen?! This was my time to enjoy DC and walk a million miles around the National Mall and all the Smithsonians! And here I was with a mangled ankle! Then I began to worry. What if it was broken? Fractured? Ligaments torn? PERMANENT DAMAGE?! And beyond my time in DC what about traveling back to NZ???!!! As you can imagine, I was freaked out, angry and scared. At the same time I was so thankful that I wasn't by myself.
The following morning we perused my foot and ankle, taking in the swelling and terrible bruises that had bloomed overnight. Then my mom said, "That's it! We're going to Urgent Care!". Even though I wanted to have it checked out, just to be sure my immediate response was, "I don't have insurance in this country anymore and what if it costs a lot and they need to do x-rays or whatever else?!". My mom was not dissuaded by any of this talk. She said she was willing to cover any cost and just wanted to make sure I was ok. So we arranged to have the hotel shuttle take us to Urgent Care and I there I handed over my funny looking (to them) NZ ID and they entered my info into the system. After waiting a few minutes we were escorted into an examination room. With some effort I situated myself on the exam table and my mom took another chair. The PA asked me about my overall health, medications and details of the injury. Then the doc came in, took a look, performed the examination and gave us the good and bad news. The good news was that, as far as he could tell, it was not broken, fractured or torn. The bad news was that I had sprained it good! Both sides sprained as evidenced by the swelling and bruising. He wrote me an order for an x-ray if there wasn't any improvement within the next two days and a prescription for Tylenol with codeine. He wrapped it up and let me pick out two more rolls in the color of my choice. I immediately snatched up the purple ones, lightly put on my shoe and I hobbled out of the office. The hotel shuttle picked us up and took us to CVS Pharmacy so I could get the prescription filled. This was challenging because they didn't want to take my NZ address but were happy to take my mom's instead. At that point I didn't care. Then we were told that it would be 40 minutes before it would be ready. I laughed out loud, then collected my wits and said, "Ok, we'll be back". The shuttle took us back to the hotel where I iced my foot again. After the forty minutes had elapsed we returned to CVS to pick up my prescription. The woman asked for my date of birth to make sure I was actually the person that was associated with that particular prescription. I rattled off, "May 4, 1983" without thinking about it because after all that is my birthday. She frowned at the computer and said, "Um, no, do you have another birth date?". I'm usually not so quick on my feet, no pun intended, but immediately said, "No, I just have the one!". :) Then I realized what had happened. When Urgent Care entered my info into their system they took it from my NZ driver's license. And you know, in this part of the world they do dates in the day-month-year format instead of what we know in the US: month-day-year. Then I went on to explain this silly nuance and asked if the date entered had been April 5, 1983. Sure enough. Problemo solved! From there we returned to the hotel where I took some meds, immediately felt the codeine kicking in and got to resting.
We had originally planned to go into the city to meet up with my older brother, Jess, and our mutual friends, Meredith and Meegan for dinner. But with the ankle debacle we had asked if they could come up to Silver Spring and have dinner with us at one of the restaurants attached to our hotel. After they arrived we relayed everything that had happened. I was so embarrassed and felt as though I had ruined this portion of the trip because we had planned to spend time in the National Mall doing a walk around to all the monuments (several miles in total) and visit some of the Smithsonian galleries. But this is a testament to the graciousness of people: none of them were upset but rather expressed concern for me. And from there we hatched a plan to visit the Air & Space Smithsonian and see some of the monuments. I was humbled by everyone's willingness to make it work. :)
My mom rushed down to me and asked, "Oh my gosh, are you ok?!". At that point I was standing, clutching the railing with my left foot raised off the ground. The misstep was so unexpected that it took a couple seconds to realized what had happened. Then I started to see stars and said, "Mom, I feel like I'm going to pass out". I sat down on the steps straightaway and waited for the stars to pass. They did and from there, leaning on Mom I limped back to the hotel. Thankfully, it was only around the corner. We arrived at our room where I elevated my foot on a big pile of pillows and packed ice around it.
Sitting there I began fuming. I was so angry with myself! How could this happen?! This was my time to enjoy DC and walk a million miles around the National Mall and all the Smithsonians! And here I was with a mangled ankle! Then I began to worry. What if it was broken? Fractured? Ligaments torn? PERMANENT DAMAGE?! And beyond my time in DC what about traveling back to NZ???!!! As you can imagine, I was freaked out, angry and scared. At the same time I was so thankful that I wasn't by myself.
We had originally planned to go into the city to meet up with my older brother, Jess, and our mutual friends, Meredith and Meegan for dinner. But with the ankle debacle we had asked if they could come up to Silver Spring and have dinner with us at one of the restaurants attached to our hotel. After they arrived we relayed everything that had happened. I was so embarrassed and felt as though I had ruined this portion of the trip because we had planned to spend time in the National Mall doing a walk around to all the monuments (several miles in total) and visit some of the Smithsonian galleries. But this is a testament to the graciousness of people: none of them were upset but rather expressed concern for me. And from there we hatched a plan to visit the Air & Space Smithsonian and see some of the monuments. I was humbled by everyone's willingness to make it work. :)
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