Kali, my well-travelled sister, was right. She told me I needed to buy compression hose for our never-ending flight across the globe. I didn’t. It is already uncomfortable enough to be sitting for 24 hours in non-pajama wear, with two inches of leg room, while the person next to you (ahem, Clay) is happily snoring with his mouth gaping open, meanwhile you’re trying to watch Far From the Madding Crowd while leaning far enough into the aisle to avoid all passenger’s stank breath, cause they ain’t brushed their teeth in 24 hours. Louis C.K. would tell me to shut up and remind me that, “You’re sitting in a chair…in the sky!!! Stop complaining!” Being able to fly across the planet in a day really is incredible, and I’m very grateful that I was born in a generation that didn’t have to cross the earth on a ship. I would most likely not be on this journey if that were the case.

Aaaaannnnnyway (as my beloved mom would say in a rather high pitch tone when a moment or conversation has gotten too tense and she’s ready to change the subject-I love you mom. ;)), the whole point of this post is swollen ankles. More like, the disappearance of ankles. My ankles became my thighs on the flight. Even though I got up and down and up and down. I went to the back of the plane where the flight attendants were prepping meals and did yoga for them. I went in the loo and did squat jumps like a crazy, which I am. I drank three liters of water. I clearly have circulation issues yo. And I am a hypochondriac like WOAH, so I was convinced I was having multiple blood clots and needed a flight attendant to find a Dr. on the plane immediately, so she/he could inspect my cankles. I couldn’t get my feet in my shoes! I could just fit my toes in them, with my heels resting off the backs, and shuffle back and forth to the bathroom. I would prop my feet up on Clay’s lap, but then I would get so embarrassed by how enormous they were, and paranoid that every passenger was staring at and judging my feet, that I would immediately take them back down and hide them under my seat. If you chopped them off and told people to guess who those cankles and feet belonged to, they would have said, “Mmmmm….I dunno, maybe a 400 pound woman?” Can we say vanity? I think yes.

So, first things first…when we arrived at our hotel in Auckland, I immediately took a shower, then proceeded to lay like like this for a very, very long time. Basically until my ankle bones began to reappear, which I genuinely feared was not going to happen. But it did happen. They slowly came back, as Clay reassured me they would…just as he reassures me when I’m constipated and start jumping around in place that I’ll go when my body is ready to go. I know, ridiculous. I’m very thankful to have my ankle bones back though. I shall appreciate them and not take them for granted from now on.

Alrighty then…note to self: Listen to Kalicat when she gives you travel advice. Suck it up (and suck it in) and strap on those compression hose. Stop wasting energy worrying about swollen ankles and regular bm’s. Enjoy life and let go. Full stop.