When the powerful forces of this universe conspire to look out for me, I like to share the experience.
On Friday, Jan 16th, I started to get the familiar onset feelings of the Flu. I usually can beat the worst of any illness in a couple of days. Knowing I had the weekend to recover, I didn't stress it. Besides, I had too many other things on my mind, such as a very crazy work trip planning starting Sunday night. I was heading to Arizona to complete a travel itinerary of over 1,000 miles, ending with me flying out of Phoenix's airport that Thursday evening. It was of the utmost importance for me to get everything work related done and have my butt in my seat on Thursday night, as I was flying out of SLC at 5am the next morning to Rome. That's right, my year long planned trip of self discovery to the enchanted land of Italy.
But as the weekend progressed, I got worse instead of better. I was not pleased. How could I not ever, EVER get sick until a week before this?
On Sunday evening I dragged my sorry sick ass to the airport, dreading this work trip in my current condition. As I was waiting for them to board my plane, a vicious wave of nausea hit me, and luckily enough a trash can was right next me, which I promptly vomited into. After assuring people around me I was OK, I made a decision to bag my work trip, and turned around and walked out of the airport, into my car, and back home straight to bed....
I did go into work the next day, and although I recieved some raised eyebrows about me cancelling my trip, I KNEW that I had to get somewhat better, and my trip to Italy was much more important to me than work will ever be...
I made it Italy, and when I came home, found a message from the airlines. The weather on that fateful Thursday in Phoenix was so bad that not only did my flight get cancelled, but the ENTIRE airport shutdown.
If I would have went to Arizona, I never would have made it home to SLC, and thus never made it to Rome.
Life is funny.
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