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The First Crazy Adventure

 

All's well that ends well... (my flight out of Nashville)

My first journal entry is dated 19 January 2021 and begins, "I hardly want to remember yesterday, but for posterity..."

If this post sounds insane and you start getting dizzy and confused... you will understand how it really was.

After spending the weekend being physically ill from nerves, I woke up on Monday morning, January 18th, completely ready to leave (having received the blessing of the priest at the parish in Nashville after Mass the day before), with the notable exception of covid test results.  

I called Air France before leaving the house to ask what would happen if I didn't have my test results in time for my flight and was told I would be able to rebook, at no charge, up to four days ahead. Naturally, I was not interested in that. I also called CVS (where I had gotten the test done) and was told that it was reasonable to expect results that day. In my journal, I wrote, "Called Delta [partner with Air France, operating my flight out of Nashville] to see if I could just get to Atlanta. No, because my bag would check all the way to LBV." I actually have only a hazy memory of that phone call and am actually not sure that it happened, because the next thing we decided was just to drive to the airport (a two-hour drive occupied with the rosary and "flying novenas") where I would plead with Delta to check me just to Atlanta. They told me the issue was that if they did that and I wasn't able to get my connecting flight in Atlanta, my bag would still go to Libreville, they would get fined... 

However! The very nice ladies working for Delta informed me that the covid test requirements had changed that day: it was no longer "test no more than 72 hours before departure", but "departure within five days of results". There was another flight for Atlanta that afternoon (4:41 p.m.), which they booked me on, as we thought that might give enough time for my results to come. 

At one point, I emailed Canon Fragelli:

 Dear Canon Fragelli,

I wanted to let you know that I am having issues with my flights because my covid test results haven't come back yet. They may still come in time, but there is a chance I will arrive in Libreville later in the week. I beg your prayers!

The response:

What a pity... the driver left this morning to go pick you up.

I replied:

I am hopeful that I will arrive on the 20th. I beg your prayers. 

My memory of what all exactly happened is somewhat hazy, as you can imagine. I do remember sitting in the airport after being rebooked, looking up to see if there were such thing as a "rapid" PCR, and if I could get one in Nashville that day. The final discovery was yes, rapid PCR tests are a thing, and yes, I would be able to get one in time to make my flight at 4:41. However, it was a QT-PCR, not an RT-PCR, and would be acceptable to board the plane for Paris, but not for Libreville. I was very certain, though, of having the results from CVS in time (if the whole thing sounds complicated...it was).  

Here I will let my mom take over:

But because of the extra days allowed, she could have booked  a flight for the next day. We added up the pros and cons of going yesterday or waiting a day. Going yesterday would cost [a lot]  for the Covid test; waiting a day would cost [also a lot] for the room she'd booked in Paris (with no assurance they would have any more available) and would be a very large inconvenience for Canon Fragelli. She had already alerted him that she may have to delay her flight and he said he was already on the way to Libreville. Not to mention waiting a day would mean coming back home, being in misery another night, then starting all over again the next day.  We both felt the [first] option was the better way to go without question.
 
Then I realized I had no idea where I had parked except it was in the north terminal garage. We walked around outside for a while as I was trying to retrace my steps but now we had all Sarah's luggage and I had descended several flights of stairs on the way in. We were not about to carry all that luggage up the same! Finally, we found our way into the garage and I asked a maintenance worker how to get up to a higher level. She asked what color was the level: blue, green or yellow. Green sounded good, not really having any idea. That was 3rd level so we looked for an elevator. First set didn't work due to "communication failure"; finally found a working elevator and went to the 3rd level. It didn't look right and I didn't find the van on the side where I was sure I had parked it. I told Sarah to just stay there while I searched for the van and I'd pick her up after I found it. I went looking and was starting to get panicky. Joe [my dad] texted me right then and I asked him to say a prayer that I would find the van quickly. I shot off a prayer to my guardian angel for help. At that instant, I had the thought to go down one level. I did (it was Blue--but with green lights, oh well) and found the van quickly. Then it took a bit figuring out how to drive up to the 3rd level to get Sarah. In the meantime, she'd been on her phone and found out she had signed up for the wrong test, needed to cancel that one and register for a new one. It gave us an extra 15 minutes which we needed in order to get there on time.

So we get to the testing site (drive-thru) and I pay with the debit card I hadn't planned on bringing, but which both my parents said I should take (the moral of the story is...). We wait in line and before long the nurse comes and takes my blood pressure, pulse and O2 saturation (my blood pressure was great, but my pulse was something like 110) and the nasal swab. While I'm sitting there waiting to talk to the PA, my phone goes off with a text...from CVS...with a link to my test results... 



Why I had to spend so much for that rapid test, I suppose I will never know. The PA told me I could wait about 20 minutes for the results from the test they had just done, and they would give me a letter, or that I could call them and ask to have the results emailed (she said they weren't actually supposed to email them, but to say that she had said they could). I wasn't going to wait around, so I thanked her and we returned to the airport, with hearts finally rejoicing.

That was the end of my trouble. I said good-bye to my mom at the curb and confidently went back to the Delta check-in counter. This Delta agent was as kind as the others, commenting that in all her years working there, she had never seen someone going to Gabon, and saying that she would pray for me. I finally made it to the gate with plenty of time to relax and take in what had just happened (I did call the place about the covid test and was told they couldn't email the letter, but they could upload it to my "patient portal". That seemed fine, except that when I saw it, there was no name or date of birth on the letter. It didn't matter, though: I never needed it). I again emailed Canon Fragelli:

 St. Thérèse came through. I anticipate arriving as originally planned. 

He replied a few hours later with three words: Blessed be God!!!

Which is all there really is to it.

In Christ the King,

Sarah

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