Bags are packed and stationed by the door. I’m ready to go home. Except . . . this morning I received a call from Air Canada reservations, letting me know I needed medical clearance from my doctor otherwise I wouldn’t be allowed to board the plane.

Big sigh.

When I asked why they hadn’t notified me earlier, she said they only realized the requirement today while reviewing reservations. When asking why they didn’t inform me two weeks ago when I’d originally arranged for special assistance and told them about the chemotherapy – she didn’t have a good reason.

So, here’s what went down.

1. Phone call from Air Canada saying get the letter, or don’t get on the plane.

2. Panic attack.

3. Call my doctor’s secretary, who was actually helpful (probably because I was swallowing back tears), and let her know about the situation. At the time my oncologist still hadn’t arrived to work, but her tone suggested they would get things sorted.

4. Call back Air Canada and give them my doctor’s fax number and contact details.

5. Wait an hour.

6. Call secretary and check if they’re received the fax. “Yes, we received it. The doctor has filled it out and I’ll be faxing it back soon.”

7. Wait another hour.

8. Call Air Canada to confirm they have received the fax. “We have the fax; we’ll call you before six pm to let you know.”

Let me know . . .

AH! Bugger this game of nerves. They’ll let me know by six pm if I’m allowed to fly home. As Zsolt would say, ‘now that’s something.’

Therefore: let’s envision the happy Air Canada Reservation employees sipping on their warm cups of tea and eating scrumptious muffins. It’s a lovely day in the office, and oh look here – a medical clearance form for a woman in chemotherapy. La la la, happy thoughts with a stamp of approval! Let’s be nice and send her home. Yay!

Good thoughts and crossed fingers. That’s what I need at this moment.

I’ll save my outrage for later.