Chapter 1 Conserve My Energy
CONSERVE MY ENERGY
Nine Years Later
“Attention passengers. We are making an emergency landing in Denver. We’ll be arriving in twenty minutes. Please fasten your seat belts, return your trays to their positions, and follow the directions from your flight attendants.”
Saylor looked around the plane at the anxiety mounting in the surrounding passengers.
Her flight from Des Moines to Tucson hadn’t been bumpy. It’d been pretty mild in her mind.
She couldn’t imagine what was going on, but it couldn’t be the weather just yet. Knowing she would fly through some storms, she changed her flight to leave earlier and was thrilled she could.
“What’s going on?” someone yelled. “Are we going to crash?”
The noise was getting louder. The passengers grew more restless.
“No,” one flight attendant said. “We are going to land just fine. Please remain calm. Emergency landings can happen for many reasons.”
“But is the reason a problem with the plane?” someone else yelled.
Yeah, she wanted to know that too.
Her phone was off, so she couldn’t check her blood sugar on the app, but she had the receiver in her pocket and pulled it out. 112. Pretty damn perfect for a travel day when she couldn’t eat regular meals or drink as much as normal.
Though, with her job, she’d learned that regular meals were a luxury and had mastered maintaining her blood sugar levels at peak times of stress and excess energy.
“Everyone just needs to remain calm. Please shut off your phones if they are in airplane mode,” another flight attendant said, moving up the aisle and reaching for any cups or items that were on the tables they were all pushing up.
She’d been watching a movie, but that would be shut off soon.
When the screen flickered, buzzed, then went black, she wondered if there was an electrical issue.
The screaming of a few people told her they thought the same thing.
She took a deep breath in and then out again. She had this.
She was probably one of the calmest people on the plane, second only to the crew. Her job demanded it, and right now, that calm was proving more valuable than ever.
“Why aren’t you scared?” the woman next to her asked. To prevent any conversation on the flight, she’d put her headset on right away and listened to her audiobook on her Kindle before the movie.
“I prefer to conserve my energy until I know all the facts. Don’t think the worst.”
The woman’s face paled. “I can’t help it. I want to get home to see my family for Christmas.”
Christmas was the last thing on her mind. “Don’t think of that. I’m sure you will.” She put her hand on the woman’s. “Take a deep breath and blow it out. Now another. That’s right. Keep it up.”
She was breathing with the woman, a few others around them doing the same thing.
At least their small section of the plane was calm.
A flight attendant walked back, patted her on the back, and whispered, “Thank you.”
Saylor wouldn’t want that job!
Though many out there wouldn’t want hers either.
There was no more information provided other than being given their routine instructions for landing, and before they knew it, the plane was safely on the ground in Denver.
“See,” she said. “All’s good.”
“Yeah,” the woman said. “Until we try to find another flight out of here. Between it being Christmas Eve and the storm that is coming through, there is no chance of it today.”
She sighed. That was her thought too.
“I’m sure we had to land because of the weather. Maybe we’ll just be sitting here for a bit.”
The announcement to remain seated that they would exit the plane in ten minutes proved her wrong.
Her problem—she had two carry-ons with her. She paid for the extra. One with her clothes. She had more clothing at her grandmother’s house, which was her permanent residence and where she stayed when she visited between assignments.
Her other bag had the bulk of her medical supplies since she always brought three to four times more than she needed in case of emergencies. Like this.
Her clothing bag was over her head. The medical supply one with her overflow of insulin, pumps and sensors was four aisles up. Where the flight attendant made her put it.
She stood to walk to it and was told to sit back down.
She waved her hand wildly hoping the flight attendant that thanked her earlier would come to her aid, but she got a shake of the head.
Trying to get the attention of the people ahead of her to get it for her proved fruitless. No one was helping her out in their heightened frantic emotions.
Saylor knew once they were told they could exit, everyone was going to rush toward her and she wouldn’t be able to go in the other direction.
That was exactly what happened when they were given the sign to exit.
She stayed in her seat. She’d be the last to go so she could get her bag.
But she had an aisle seat and those next to her weren’t happy to walk around her legs.
She stood for them and was told to get her bag and move herself.
“I need to get my second bag up there,” she said to someone.
“We need to get off this plane,” a man screamed. “I heard there is an electrical issue and there is smoke below us. Can’t you smell it?”
She couldn’t, but all it did was give a sense of urgent panic to those around her, pushing her away from her medical bag as if they were carrying her out on their shoulders in a mosh pit.
If it was true and this plane had issues, she wasn’t sure she could get back on it or how long it’d be before she could get that bag.
No matter how much she tried to turn around and go back, someone nudged her forward and yelled at her to move. Fear of being trampled was almost as great.
When she got to the gate, she stopped next to an employee.
“I need to get my carry-on, you don’t understand.”
The employee saw the bag over her shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got it.”
“No,” she said. She took a deep breath. Appearing as a frantic lunatic would not help her case. “I have two. Those are medical supplies I need on the plane. I’m a diabetic.” She pulled her sleeve up and showed him the medical ID bracelet she wore on her wrist.
“I’m sorry,” he said, wincing. “We aren’t supposed to let people back on. You should have grabbed it when you left. Someone will have to get it for you.”
She looked at the guy’s name tag. “Rob. Can you do it? Can you get someone to go on? I’m afraid once the plane moves and being stuck here, who knows how long it will take? It’s my insulin and pump supplies. Please.”
Rob looked around. She saw he was stressed and that people were pulling him in all directions to get information. “I can’t leave my post.” She was getting through to him as he was looking for someone else. At least she hoped that was the case.
“I’ll go do it. I don’t have a problem.” She took a step forward.
“Don’t make me call security,” the guy hissed and reached for her arm. “I know you’re upset, but I can’t do anything about it.”
He was being shouted at by other passengers now too.
If there was one thing in her life that put her in a panic, it was not having insulin.
She’d fought hard to avoid ketoacidosis again. Her pump held enough insulin for one more day, plus two backup pumps and insulin in her bag, enough to last maybe six more days. That is, if none of the pumps failed or leaked, and she didn’t lose her precious supply.
Things like that happened all the time.
You know, like the luggage Gremlins stole that ended up on another plane or under a bridge. Who the hell knew, but she wasn’t leaving this spot without that damn bag.
She couldn’t take that chance of losing her supplies. If lost permanently, she would have to pay thousands of dollars for those supplies out of pocket.
What an idiot she was not forcing the bag over her head when she had a chance.
She was told to move it down and always listened to directions.
This one time she should have been more like her sister and fought back.
“You don’t understand,” she said. “This isn’t like pills. This is insulin I need to survive. Not type 2, type 1.”
The average person never understood the difference. Now didn’t seem like the right time for a lecture either.
“What’s going on here, Rob?”
“Hey, Rowan. Please move forward,” Rob was shouting and waving his hand for everyone to keep walking.
She didn’t budge. “No. I’m going back on that plane now.”
“I’ll have to call security,” Rob said, pulling his radio out. The poor guy had people shouting at him in every direction, but she wasn’t moving either.
“I need that bag. It’s life or death,” she said firmly.
Might sound a little drastic, but it felt it in her mind.
The thought of running out of insulin in an unfamiliar town, with no idea how long she might be stranded, filled her with a paralyzing fear.
She wouldn’t leave the airport until she had that bag, which meant she could be here for a day or more with the storm, giving up any chance of finding a hotel or another flight.
“Why don’t we sit over here,” the guy named Rowan said. “I know a few people. Maybe I can help.”
“I doubt it,” she said. “If I go into shock or pass out, just tell my grandmother I tried.”
She pulled a Sandy card out without even realizing it. A pity party was taking over, but she felt so helpless once again.