The flight was a long one. It would take four different planes and almost forty hours to reach me including a few hours of rest in a hotel in Manila before the final leg of the flight to the southern Philippines. He had never flown internationally before and was not quite ready for what he was about to face. The last minute rush to get his engineering project complete and the wedding preparations hadn’t given him much time to think about what a grueling marathon that he was soon to endure. The lack of sleep and medical problem prior to his departure had also taken its toll.
The first leg was a short one of only about an hour with a two hour lay over. When he started the next leg that was to take him across the Pacific Ocean, he was not prepared for what he would encounter. My fiance was six 6′4 inches and 280 lbs. The coach airline seats were not designed to comfortably accommodate someone of his size. He felt like a sardine that had been stuffed into a can.
After about twelve hours into the trip, his legs and back began to cramp, but he was too tired to spend much time standing. His medical problem was also causing him pain. The trip began to feel like torture. After about fifteen hours in what seemed like an eternity, he finally arrived in Tokyo. He was still a long way but at least he was able to get off the plane for a couple of hours before starting his next leg. Then it happened again. When he went to the restroom at the airport in Tokyo, he began bleeding profusely and again it wouldn’t stop.