I’m going to London in a few weeks. This will be my first trip abroad since being diagnosed with MS. Since I travel periodically with my job, I’ve had to deal with injecting while in a hotel. It’s not really that bad. Getting through security isn’t usually that big of a problem. I did have a situation when I was going through Washington’s Reagan National Airport and the TSA dude started taking my cooler with the meds off the belt while I was still waiting to go through the metal detector. I started making a huge fuss and screaming that an agent was taking my medication out of my sight. I had a supervisor by my side in no time.

This trip will be a little different in that it’s a long flight and a long layover.  Once I get to London, putting the meds in Steve’s refrigerator will be the easiest part of the whole thing.  Depending on how my med schedule falls that week, I might end up giving my injection on the flight over. I’m not sure I like that idea, though.

I spoke to a US Airways agent, and they said to let the flight attendant know when I got aboard the aircraft that I had meds I needed to keep cold. She said they would at least be able to provide some ice. I’ll take a few plastic bags along for that. I’m sure we can make this work out okay. 

My real concern is getting through airport security since my meds are a liquid. However, I also have the prescription label. And duh, they’re in a syringe. 

MS Lifelines is sending me a new portable sharps container for the trip. That will certainly come in handy, too.

One of the other things I’ve done, just to be on the absolute safe side, is to register my trip with the US Embassy in London. You can do that via the US State Department’s website. God forbid something happen to me while I’m there, but if the US Embassy gets word that I’m in any trouble, they’ll see that I have multiple sclerosis and take Rebif three times a week. This may sound like overkill. It probably is. The United Kingdom is hardly a third would country. It’s just that the last thing I’d want is to be lying in a hospital in any world country where the doctors don’t know why I have no feeling on the left side of my body.

I belong to Recon, a network of gay-themed sites that cover a full line of different interests. Their motto is What are YOU into?

Recon is sponsoring Full Fetish night at the Hoist while I’m in London and Steve asked if I was interested in going. There is a dress code that night, so I’ll have to pack my boots and a few other things. The dresscode requires leather/rubber/skinhead/punk/military/latex or some combination of those. Believe it or not, I can play along. It also means I’ll need to crop down my hair before going. That’s not a problem, either. This just might be fun.

I’m looking forward to my trip to London. We have plans for the Saturday night I’m there. More on that later.

I have a long layover in Philly on my way there.  This will be my first trip through the new international terminally at PHL. I can get some reading done, I’m sure. 

I’m thinking that I might take my laptop with me. Worse yet, I might take my work laptop. A) It’s smaller than my iBook. B) It has twice the battery life of my iBook, and C) It has an embedded card reader for my camera. I like the idea of disconnecting. But I also like the idea of blogging from London, too.

I need to go buy some new socks and underwear at Target today. Perhaps a trip to Old Navy for boxers is in order. Oh, and I need a new pair of jeans. Tight jeans. Those are for Saturday night while in London. I might have a pair of tight jeans already, though.

This morning’s little episode might not have been the side effects from my Rebif injection. I might actually be coming down with the flu. My side effects are never THAT bad. And I’ve been sluggish and icky all day. Tonight, I feel like I actually have a fever coming on.

I guess it IS that time of year.

Today is one of those days where it sucks having MS. I woke up about 4:45 with the worst chills. Part of it was the fact that the window was open. But mostly it was because I had my injection last night and the fever is a side effect of the meds. When I went to get out of bed this morning, my legs just weren’t there. I can’t really explain it other than my legs were like rubber and they did this convulsing shake.

Earlier this morning, I had a dizzy spell. I should have sat down for a while, but I needed to get to work. As I was going down the back steps, I lost my balance and started to fall. I caught myself after falling about two steps, and I’m fortunate I wasn’t hurt. But I scared the shit out of myself.

I need to take it easy this weekend. Some serious comfort food is in order, I think.

In the construction industry, our field people live and die by their Nextel push-to-talk (PTT) phones. It’s the standard in the instrustry, and after a while, the chirping sounds they make can drive you crazy. The last thing I want to hear when I leave work is someone’s phone constantly chirping. Worse yet, I don’t want to hear someone’s conversation at full volume over their PTT phones. That’s what happened today.

I was sitting on the 120 bus from Maverick Square to go home. I was sitting about a third of the way back the bus, which would allow anyone with special needs to have the front seats. This woman was sitting in the very front seat of the bus, having a very loud conversation with her female friend. Not only was she doing this via the PTT phone that was incessantly chirping,  but she was speaking loud enough that the whole bus could hear her. On top of that, she had the volume on the phone high enough that the whole bus could hear her friend say that she only made two dollars at work today.  I tried holding my tongue. No, really, I really did. I sat there brooding from Maverick Square to East Boston Central Square when I’d had enough.

Anybody who knows me in person knows that my voice carries. When needed, I can use this to my advantage and use a deep, booming voice. Rarely will I do this, but it comes in handy. Today, it certainly came in handy. “Excuse me. I don’t want to hear your conversation, and the rest of the bus doesn’t want to hear your conversation. Can you turn it down, please?” I boomed. There. I said my peace. She looked at me indignantly and said, “No. I don’t care.”  At that moment, I became my mother. When my mom gets really pissed, she just clams up. You sit there and just wait for the eruption.  I grabbed my iPod while all of the little Hispanic women on the buss turned around and smiled at me. Words can’t convey just how infuriated I was.  Part of me wanted to walk up there and toss her phone out the window. But doing that with witnesses wouldn’t be smart. Instead, I put on my headphones and waited for my stop.  I got off the bus via the back doors, avoiding confrontation with the loud speaker.

Today, I did something I rarely do. I left it alone after I said my peace. I wanted to tell her that she was rude and disrespectful. I wanted to state just how much an insensitive cunt she was being. But for once, I left well enough alone. Oh, she’ll get hers. Karma’s a bitch. And when she bites you in the ass, only then do you learn that her teeth are very sharp.

I got my passport in August of 1999. I was 26 and blonde. I was granted a temporary passport because I didn’t have my original birth certificate. This passport would be valid for one year. Shortly after that, I moved into my new place in Philly. My passport got lost in a box somewhere. 

In February of 2000, my friend Pete asked me to go to London with him on a US Airways International E-Saver. I jumped at the chance and bought my ticket. Two days before I left, I hit a panic because I couldn’t find my passport. I went running to the Passport Office in Philly and explained the situation. The guy agreed to grant me a new temporary, but when I told him I was going to London, he balked. He said he’d still grant it but to expect trouble when I got there. You see, my new passport would say that it was a temporary passport that replaced a lost or missing temporary passport. He said that immigration officers loathe seeing this. He asked which airport I’d be going into. I told him Gatwick. He actually told me that I should consider cancelling my trip because they probably wouldn’t let me in the country and that they’re worse about it at Gatwick versus Heathrow.  They almost didn’t let me in the country, either. I do recall the immigration officer was a cranky woman who gave me a hard time.  I had to provide the name and telephone number of the friend we were visiting, the name and address of the friend I was with (we were on different flights), and a copy of my hotel itinerary.

Prior to leaving, I ordered my replacement birth certificate copy. It was there when I got home from that trip. The next day, I went to the passport office to have my passport corrected. The page that says that it’s a replacement of a lost/temporary passport has been stamped VOID and a new page validating it for ten years had been added. My passport is now valid until 2010.

Tonight, I know exactly where both passports are. One of them is no longer valid, but I keep it just because I like the picture. The other one is ready to go to London with me.

Incidentally, I booked my airfare at the right time. Today, the fare went up $120 over what I paid yesterday. I told Steve I felt like I was playing the stock market. In this case, I certainly did buy low.

As I was heading out the door this morning, I realized I was missing something… my keys!

I fantically searched all of the usual places to no avail.  I even went through my laundry (scattered across the bedroom floor) to find what I had been wearing yesterday. I knew that the last time I would have seen them was when Reggie and I came back from our evening walk. Still, no luck. Fearing I’d be late, I grabbed the spare house key and ran off.

Over the course of the day, I started doing a mental inventory of everything on that key ring… house key, front door key, car key, mailbox key, car alarm fob, office door fob, and those damn little plastic customer reward cards… PetSmart, Petco, Stop-N-Shop, Shaws, and my gym membership card.

I don’t know which was worse, the thought of calling my landlord and getting a new mailbox key or telling our office manager that I had lost the little fob that lets me into the office. Neither would be happy. At least I have a spare set of house keys.

When I came home, I decided to systematically start tearing apart the house. They simply had to be here.  They were. In the side pocket of the shorts I was wearing during Reggie’s evening walk last night. The shorts were on the floor in the bedroom.

At least I don’t have to call my landlord now.

The parents are coming! The parents are coming!

So much to do and so little time.

We’re certainly going to Salem. And we’re going to eat sea food. And we’re going to walk the freedom trail.

I think I found a place for them to stay, too. Lets see how that pans out.

I’ve started cleaning and rearranging the living room. Reggie does not like his furniture being moved.

I’m all booked for my trip to London. This is really exiting. The one thing that had me a little distressed was the on-time rating of the first flight. You don’t want a habitually late flight when you’re making an international connection. But if you look closer, I have a five hour layover in Philly. That’s time with my book! Or sitting at a bar with a margarita. Heck, I could even run into the city and meet up with Casey for a drink.

Reggie’s travel arrangements have been made as well. He’ll be staying at Camp Murphy while I’m gone. This works out really well for us because Sam’s sister will be able to walk the boys during the day.

Considering that there are so many non-stop flights between Boston and London, I’m really taking the round-about way. However, this also helps me rack up close to 9500 miles on US Airways, and that will give me enough for my free ticket next time I choose to go somewhere.