Tuesday Karen and I left for Montreal. She attended a conference there and I was her plus-one. We flew through Newark, NJ to get there.
To say Karen is not a good flyer would be an understatement. Her stomach just does not handle air travel well. I'm used to her using the air sickness bag, but this was very different. When we got off the plane in Montreal she was so dizzy she was having trouble standing and she felt very sick. We found a wheelchair in a hallway and I commandeered it to push her down the concourse.
A gate agent stopped us and asked if we needed help. She called for the airport first aid crew and when they arrived they sent for an ambulance. The paramedics convinced her to take a ride to the hospital, so we went. The customs agent said our paperwork was good and the bags would stay there until later when we could retrieve them.
It took quite a while to get to the hospital since it was rush hour and there was a major accident snarling up two of the main highways. So we were on city streets along the St. Lawrence river most of the way to the hospital.
When we got to the hospital there was a paper taped to the wall at the intake desk that stated if you were non-Canadian or a Canadian without insurance it would cost $682.74 up front to see a doctor. They wanted cash, but were willing to take a major credit card.
We sat in the waiting room for almost four hours without seeing a doctor and by then Karen was feeling much better so she suggested we leave. We talked about it and I made her walk around a bit to make sure she was ok. I tried to get the money back at the intake desk and was told that accounting was closed for the day and since tomorrow was a holiday we would have to wait until Thursday. We called an Uber car to take us to the hotel.
On the way we mentioned that our bags were still at the airport and Halil, our driver, said he would take us there now if we wished him to. We did and when we got to the airport I was told that our bags were sent back home. I questioned that and was told that was what happened and they were gone.
On the way to the hotel I called the main United Airlines number and got a foreign country. The man on the other end of the line called the Montreal airport and told me the bags were still there. They would be put on a truck and delivered shortly, usually within a four to six hour window.
We got to the room and ordered room service at midnight. That club sandwich was the best thing we ever tasted since we hadn't eaten since 8:30 that morning.
The next day, Wednesday, was my birthday and also St. Jean Baptiste Day, and Quebec Day.