Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Hot Flash


The beginning of my trip was most intriguing. I had not visited Istanbul in over twenty years. I had nothing but excitement flowing through my system. My flights to Istanbul were uneventful. Other than being exhausted from flying, waiting and arriving I was perfectly fine. I was ready for my three week family reunion.

Once I landed, I shut my brain off to English. My flight landed with six other airlines so the passport line was rather crowded. While waiting and snaking my way through the line I was cognizant of the voice in the background. It was in English and the woman kept repeating “Ma’am, ma’am, excuse me.” Since I speak the native language, I was sure this voice was not directed at me. Soon after that thought, the voice was now tapping me on the shoulder. I turned around to see the woman who was sporting a surgical mask asking me to follow her. I replied in English and asked her if she was talking to me, she nodded.

I followed her out of the passport line and towards what was labeled the first aid desk. There I was greeted with two more women also wearing surgical masks and gloves. I regained my senses and asked them in Turkish why I was summoned.

Wicked H: What seems to be the problem?

First Aid Attendant (FAA): Ma’am, you look very ill!

Wicked H: I do?

FAA: You look as though you have a high fever, you must sit down.

Wicked H: Oh! Oh, no. I am not ill, I am having a hot flash.

FAA: I doubt it. You may have Swine Flu!

Wicked H: What? I promise you that I don’t.

FAA: (a thermometer has now been placed in my ear)

Wicked H: Seriously, menopause. Am I saying the word correctly? That is the reason my face is so red.

FAA: (my temperature is 37.5 C)

Wicked H: (having been raised in the states and being jet lagged, I have no idea if 37.5 is good or not - trying not to appear panicked) Look I am 47 and it is quite warm in this building, I am simply having a hot flash. You must believe me.

Needless to say, I begged them to let me through. Turns out 37.5 is very close to normal. Thank goodness. On the plus side by the time I made it out to the luggage carousel, my two bags were the only ones left. My poor cousin was trying to get an official to check on me as I dragged myself into the terminal. It was a wonderful reunion.

More to come soon....


Suzette said...

OMG! Hilarious!

What would have happened if you didn't speak the native tongue? Can't wait for the rest of the details, sounds like a fabulous trip.

sweetromance2 said...

What a frightening experiance, especially if you don't happen to speak the language. Good for you that you did. Glad they let you go.

Mark Base said...

I think I'll have to add you to my blog roll thingy...

Wicked H said...

Suzette: It became funny the second after I got back into the passport line. And the trip was fantastic - thanks.

SR2:You're right but it all worked out.

Mark: Really? How lovely - thanks