We’re older, and I’ll tell you that’s why
We all were partially dry
Thus faster the rate
We all dehydrate
Till away from Jordan we’ll fly
Synopsis: I’m a Family Practitioner from Sioux City, Iowa. In 2010 I danced back from the brink of burnout, and, honoring a 1-year non-compete clause, traveled and worked in out-of-the-way places in Alaska, Nebraska, Iowa, and New Zealand. After 3 Community Health years, I took temporary gigs in Iowa, Pennsylvania, Nebraska, Canada, and Alaska. Since the pandemic, I worked telemedicine, a COVID-19 clinic, a VA clinic, and spots Texas, Iowa, and Pennsylvania. Taking vacation from circuit-riding rural clinics in Iowa, Nebraska, and South Dakota, I went on vacation to Israel, and found myself in war zone. Israel closed its airspace. Grey Bull Rescues orchestrated our evacuation.
I’m Jewish. I will not be writing about religion or politics. See my post https://walkaboutdoc.wordpress.com/2010/09/13/why-i-dont-write-about-religion-politics-or-sex/
The spectacular, luxurious, way-past-5-star Hotel Rotana in Amman did a marvelous job of checking in 350 evacuees. We arrived late, tired, sweaty, and hungry, and most partially dehydrated or worse. And they didn’t ask about room number at the restaurant.
The front desk employees checked us in, maintaining courtesy, cheerfulness, and professionalism in the face of a human tsunami. Bethany and I rolled up to the 10th floor about 1:00 AM, with instructions to be ready to board busses at 9:00 AM.
And breakfast opens at 6:00AM.
I did my best to push the fluids over breakfast, but with age comes diminished perception of thirst. Over spectacular food we talked about the journey so far.
Jordan and Israel get along well, especially for the context of the region. Jordan gets most of its water from Israel’s massive desalination plants, and when both countries have open airspace there are 2 commercial jets daily between Tel Aviv and Amman. Israeli tourists regularly go to the spectacular ruins at Petra.
Still we maintained an uneasiness as a group of Jews in an Arab Muslim country. So even with a 5-star hotel and indescribable dining, we wanted to get home.
At 9:00 AM we gathered in the lobby, and I struck up a conversation with a man who builds movie sets, including Star Trek. One of our group wrote a screen play for an episode of Star Trek, and I put the two of them together.
Another fellow traveler approached me with an ankle problem, and gave me permission to write more than I have. She had swelling around the outside ankle bone. I could visualize the tendons, but knew that naming them would just be showing off. So I talked about management of ankle injuries, the need for icing, elevation, a rigid ankle support, good physical therapy and gradual return to exercise. After I’d thought about it, in another country I approached her to say at the very least she needs an x-ray.
The Grey Bull reps, whom we have come to know and respect, announced we’d be going on 6 busses to the airport, and taking 2 charter planes to Cyprus.
Amman sits about 40 kilometres (26 miles) from the airport. Our bus had a manual transmission and an alarming shimmy at highway speeds.
We passed lots of roadside fruit stands selling bananas and grapes, and a few others selling flowers, mostly on the honor system. (At least, I think those were small businesses; if you’re Jordanian and know something different, please comment.)
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