Packing and Travel Back to the US

Denise and I packed on Tuesday. She had to buy some things. I had to take care of paying rent for our house for the next several months, all the while knowing that we had no idea how long we would be gone.

Because my legs had become so large, I had to cut the right leg of my boxer briefs on the inside and outside, and then roll up the leg so it did not cutoff the circulation and make my leg hurt.

Packing was very difficult for me. I climbed the stairs two times. Once to take care of the valuable cargo that we have and to pack it in both of our backpacks. The other was to take care of packing my clothes. This was a very hands-off and strange process for me. How do I know what clothes to bring? It seemed that with my large legs, I could not wear much other than shorts. (And oh, how I wished that I could have worn pants on that trip home.) 

Denise showed me a pile of my clothes. I told her which ones to pack. It was very difficult for me (and for her) because she has NEVER been involved in my packing for our travels. My clothes = my responsibility. This time was pretty unique. (And as it stands now, I mostly brought the wrong clothes.)

Those are the things that I was concerned about before I finally consented to returning to the US. But God took care of ALL the details. Nothing was left undone. And it was all in HIS time. Overnight Tuesday, we finalized the purchase of our tickets to fly out of Kiev on Thursday, September 17th.

Wednesday morning we left for our colleague's place. Denise had to load everything into the car and drive the entire trip because I was simply not up to helping at all. And every bump in the road (and there are a lot of them, even though this year there is a huge road improvement project throughout Ukraine), hurt me physically. Poor Denise. Then we learned that the doctor had rounded up some medical records for us to take with us, so we had to run to the clinic to pick those up. Downtown Kiev after 5 PM on a weekday is not my idea of a good time. But we survived it.

Our friends took wonderful care of us, as usual, and I tried unsuccessfully to sleep in a chair in the living room for a couple of hours, then had a really hard time taking a shower in the early morning. Our friend had us to the airport by 5 AM. We knew that God was ordering our steps, but this was only the beginning.

We made sure to request wheelchair service in the airports, because we knew that there was absolutely no way possible for me to walk the airport between flights, even with four hour layovers in Frankfurt and Chicago O'Hare. And we also learned that there are different levels of wheelchair service. We should have had a little more help, but overall we did good with our first experience having at least the basic help to get me where I needed to be.

When our friend dropped us off curbside, there was no way for me to walk around looking for where to get me a wheelchair, so Denise had to do that. I was left standing by the luggage - and standing was one of THE most difficult things to do. Denise finally got help, and I got to sit in a wheelchair. The beauty of that service, that many do not know about, is that they help express you through all the lines. And that is especially helpful when you are in a hurry, which we were not. Four hour layovers, when you are sick and hurting, is not at all fun. Then again, nothing is fun when you are sick and hurting, especially travel.

We got to load each of the three planes early because of me, but I still had to walk onto the plane because of the level of wheelchair service we requested. It was very difficult, but I did it. Overall the flights were uneventful, thankfully, but for me they were brutal, especially the 8.5 hours from Frankfurt to O'Hare. I was cold, and the very little airline blanket was not helping. I watched movies, because, as usual, especially lately, I could not sleep. And that flight was wonderful, because it was well under half-full. But there was one undisciplined screaming brat on the plane (thanks to his parents who always gave into him) who screamed when I wanted to sleep and then I could not sleep when he slept. But at least it was quiet then. Denise slept most of the time because she gets motion sick and needs to take Dramamine.

By the end of our layover in Chicago, it seemed that we would never make it to Cedar Rapids, IA. We were flying there, being met by Denise's sister and her husband, along with their Mom. I felt like death warmed over, and from the sounds of things, that is pretty much how I looked. At first there was a problem finding our luggage, but we finally got it and headed straight to the emergency room at the University of Iowa Hospitals in Iowa City.

Denise's parents are glad to have us staying with them during this time. They kind of like having Denise (and hopefully me) around, although this is going to be a completely different time than any of us have ever experienced before.

God helped us get back to the US, and He was not going to leave or forsake us now. Of this, we were confident!