The Countdown...

Last day in Israel. Today the group will be going to the Upper Room, a replica of the room where the Last Supper took place, and the Garden Tomb, where I was supposed to be speaking. I'm totally bummed to be missing it - but continue to remind myself that God will make something good out of the mess I've made...He always does.
Yesterday, they walked the actual path that Jesus walked while carrying the cross. As I read through the corresponding scripture, I was overcome by emotion just thinking about it...and overcome with more emotion feeling sorry for myself for missing out on the experience. After 39 years, I still don't quite have this walking thing down...

But, if all goes well, in just under 24 hours I should be on a plane flying home.
I've gone round and round with the insurance people - last night was really challenging for me. I've handled this whole ordeal with as much patience and grace as I can muster. It's my fault that I can't seem to walk without getting hurt and I certainly don't want anyone else from the group to suffer and miss things because of my clumsiness.
But, after talking to the insurance last night for the umpteenth time and being told that their medical team has decided that I cannot fly alone...I about lost it.
First of all - I am not flying alone. I am with 45 people - granted, I may not have known all of them that well at the beginning of this little journey, but 10 days later...and we're pretty tight. I don't think they are going to leave me flailing around in the airport.
Second - it's a sprained ankle for crying out loud!!! I need crutches, not a medical escort!
I don't understand the big deal about getting me some crutches. When they wouldn't give crutches in the hospital, I thought there was some sort of language barrier. Later, I figured out that the doctor might have seen something in my eyes and realized that if he had given me crutches that day, I would likely have gone ahead and gone out on the tour yesterday (smart man). But, not giving me crutches at this point, for me to get back home, is absolutely absurd.
My medical escort, Ariel, whom I have not yet met...will most definitely have his hands full. If they won't give me crutches, I will be forced to spend the entire travels in a wheelchair, except while on the plane...where I will inevitably have to go to the restroom, as it is a horrendously long flight.
Maybe the insurance people don't fly much - but I did inform them in so many words, that no one is going to fit in that bathroom with me...if I don't have crutches...this could get ugly.

So, the big stink, as of 7:40p last night was that the doctor's release says that I must fly first class with my leg elevated above my heart. But, there was only one seat available in first class.
"So, what's the problem?" I ask.
"There is no seat available for your medical escort." Juan / Amy / Tom replied. (I tried this route with multiple people).
"So, I'll sit in coach, where I'm already booked."
"We can't let you do that, as it would be going against the doctor's orders."
"Do you have the orders in front of you?" I ask.
"Yes."
"Perfect...because so do I. Could you please point out to me where it says that I must have a medical escort?" (they are totally pushing my buttons here).
"It doesn't say that, ma'am."
"So, you're going against the doctor's orders?" I ask.
"No ma'am, it's just a precaution."
"Well, let your precaution sit in coach." Problem solved.

This went on and on, with their solution being that I would stay an extra day (23 1/2 hours to be exact) in Jerusalem, waiting for a flight where Nurse Ariel can sit with me in first class.
"Could you please put your medical department on the phone?" I request politely.
"No, we don't let the patients speak directly to the medical department...that's what the discharge papers are for."
"Well, you are reading something into the discharge papers that is not true...and I want to speak to the people making that determination." I persist.
"It will not do you any good ma'am, they have already determined that you cannot be alone."
"Put the medical people on the phone, Juan. Now." I say.
"Hold please."

After holding for awhile, I get to talk to Juan's supervisor, Amy, who is as sweet as molasses and is definitely gifted in handling upset people. She was so nice that it made me really sad once I realized that I was going to have to get ugly with her too.
By the time I finished with Amy, I was on the phone with the medical desk.
And they were right - they weren't budging.

"Ms Hillman, you don't understand. If we allow you to get on that plane without someone there to assist you, and you should happen to fall while trying to go to the bathroom, we would be liable for not providing you the help you need."
"Dude - having an extra person on the plane is not going to keep me from falling! If it could be prevented that easily, I would have never fallen in the first place!"

I realize quickly that I'm getting nowhere. And I can't understand at all why they would want to spend all of this extra money on getting someone to fly with me all the way to Cape, PLUS pay for me to stay in Jerusalem an extra day with all of the expenses associated with that...when all I want is a lousy pair of crutches. Unbelievable.

"So, that's it? You're telling me that in order for you to cover my claim, I have no choice but to stay in Jerusalem an extra day, while the 45 people I'm here with leave to go home, so that I can fly home with some stranger, in order not to be 'left alone'?" I ask.
"Yes, ma'am, we have no other options."
Something in me decided to give in (and something else snapped...all at the same time...)
"OK then. I guess that's what I'll have to do." I secede.
"So what time will the nurse be here?" I ask. (this is Tuesday evening, mind you)
"You're flight will be at 11:30pm on Thursday and you are approximately an hour from the airport, so he will meet you at your hotel at 8pm."
"8pm Thursday?" (remember, the rest of my group leaves the hotel at 8am Wednesday for touring, then leaves for the airport at 7pm Wed)
"Yes ma'am, 8pm Thursday. He will meet you in the lobby."
"Great. What time will he be here tomorrow?" I ask.
"Tomorrow is Wednesday, ma'am."
"Yes, I'm well aware of that. But if I can't be left 'alone' on a plane with 350 people without medical assistance, I sure can't be left in this hotel room for 36 hours by myself. If I can't go 3 steps from my seat on the plane to the lavatory, I don't know how you can expect me to be going to the bathroom in my hotel room alone. I need a nurse here immediately." I say, quite calmly, I must say...although my angry tears had already mustered their way to the surface.
"I don't think we can do that, ma'am, it's not very realistic."
"No - what's not realistic - is you telling me that I can't fly alone, when I will have 45 people with me that I know...but I can stay alone in a foreign country, unable to get around on my own because you won't supply with me with a flippin' set of crutches, for 36 hours!!! That's not very realistic. I'll do it your way. But I want a nurse. Now."
"Let me see what we can work out, ma'am. I will call you back."

Three hours later they called back...and miraculously were able to get me on the same flight as everyone else. I don't know any of the details of how they made this work, but I will be flying home first class, with my lovely male nurse, Ariel, who will not only pick me up from the hotel tonight, but will escort me all the way back to Cape Girardeau, MO. They insist.

I'm finished arguing. It's a sprained ankle. But, whatever. I'm coming home.
Praise God.
I know a lot of you back home are praying...and it's working...so keep up the good work:-)
Love,
Angel