I'll begin by saying that I've always tried to book delta. Historically, delta has been a little bit pricier than the rest, but I make good money now and really value being in comfortable seats.
While I've had my fair share of delays and cancellations. I've generally been able to have a positive attitude about it. This time, it broke us (my wife and I).
It starts out with me being invited to speak at a conference in Santiago, Chile. Because I was told late on the dates. I could only get the day of the conference off. But no matter. I'll sleep on the overnight flight and be rested enough to give my lecture. Everything was going fine until we were delayed in Atlanta for two hours for a maintenance issue. Had to get off the runway, fix it, get back on the runway. I arrived about 1.5 hour before my lecture, made it to the hotel 30 min before, showered, and was able to deliver. OKAY. Shit happens.
We then left Santiago for Bogotá. We took Avianca there, had no problems.
Had a great time in Colombia, and now returning to the States. This is where we enter into purgatory.
It starts in the Santa Marta airport. My checked bag is flagged 15 min before boarding because it contains an aerosol (mosquito repellent for the jungle), I am pulled from the gate and given some half assed instructions. Thankfully, I'm fluent in Spanish and could tell them I was in a hurry and we pulled out the aerosol. OKAY. I get it, safety reasons. Not sure what that says about every other airport letting me fly with it in a checked bag, but okay, it got thrown out.
Oh? A message from Delta? My flight is delayed by 45 min in bogota? Might be a tight connection but as long as we are quick we might be able to make it. JUST KIDDING. Flight is delayed again. I go to the Delta App. No alternative booking available. The only delta personnel I can get in touch with is some guy named Rohit over text message, who is telling me that I should be able to make my connection in Atlanta, no problem. I'm now finding myself explaining to Rohit that I have to collect my checked bags in ATL before I can connect. JUST KIDDING. Flight is delayed again, no chance we make it. Rohit only has the power to put us on a standby flight for the next day. I then get a text message that the flight has been delayed due to maintenance reasons. Weather is beautiful.
We finally get to bogota, try to make the best of it, grab some food. We get to the counter and they tell us no problem, they'll book us on the next flight in Atlanta. JUST KIDDING. As we present our ticket after waiting in line, a different agent tells us that we can't get on yet because we have not confirmed our seat for our connection in Atlanta. So we get back in line, seeing the zones pass us. We booked main cabin plus, and now we're worried that our backpacking packs will have to rest at our feet instead of overhead. Thankfully, we found a spot a couple rows back and could sit comfortably. My wife falls asleep. I watch F1, the movie. (Great movie).
Soon the meal service comes. Chicken salad or cheese and onion sandwich. We both get chicken salad. It comes with some fruit, and a chocolate. Good thing we checked the chocolate, because it said it contains peanuts and my wife is horribly allergic.
We eat our sandwich, not bad actually. Oh shit. Twenty minutes later, my wife is itchy and covered in hives. Something got cross contaminated, or, there is an allergen we don't know of. Thankfully, no lips are swelling. She takes some Benadryl. The rash is getting better but she's feeling worse. Headache, goosebumps. The same thing she felt the last time we were brave enough to try a hole in the wall Chinese place, except that time, her lips started to swell. Can't really blame them, we never let them know she had a peanut allergy, but I guess we got used to the standard being no peanuts. But this of Colombia, not the USA, so our fault for not alerting them.
We arrive in Atlanta, get a hotel and food voucher. My wife feels horrible, doesn't want the food. Me on the other hand, I'm pretty peckish. OH WAIT. The voucher is only for food purchased at the hotel, of which is a bunch of snack food. We decide to just go up to the room because it's already past midnight and our flight is around 715.
What do I hear at two in the morning? My wife retching into the toilet. I'm a physician, so thankfully, we carry a small pharmacy when we travel. A couple of nausea meds later and, no luck, she pukes from about 230 am until 345 am, and was able to fall back asleep for 45 min. No amount of back rubbing or pep talks make a difference. I sit there helplessly watching her suffer. Do I try and move the flight? I call Delta. 1.5 hour wait time to speak to customer service.
I tell her to forget about the flight. We'll just stay in the hotel until check out and book another flight. She waffles between going on the flight vs staying in. She strengthens her resolve and tells me she just wants to go home and see our dogs. I check in multiple times to make sure that's what she wants to do. Home it is.
The hotel shuttle is prompt. We're at the airport at 510. We have our bags that we need to recheck. Go to recheck and nope, have to go to special assistance. Cool. Nobody in line. I duck under the ropes, there is an agent available.
"Nope." Is all she says. She shakes her head at me and points to the front of the line. "You can't duck under, you have to go through the line space." Rules are rules I guess, as I leave the line to re enter the empty line, which now has one person in it. I wait there as a couple of agents chit chat and apparently catch up on their Saturday nights, when they finally call me up.
"I'll take your bags, just go to the gate and they'll give you your ticket." We go through security, terrified that my wife is going to need to puke in the middle of TSA pre check.
We make it through TSA, is the worst over? Nope, as we wait for the train, my wife finds the nearest trash can and pukes. I prepare a half assedb story in my head about morning sickness in case someone gets worried. We look at the crowd, we decide to walk. It's not that far and there are trash cans in the way.
Thankfully, no more puking. We make it.
Now at this point my app is still saying I'm on standby. Also, side bar, multiple links on the app are buggy and some just take you to "page not found". Anyway, I wait for a gate agent to arrive, and when they do. it's about 1 hour and 10 minutes to the flight, where I ask in my most pleasant 6 am voice, that I have tickets with no seats.
"The flight isn't open yet. It opens one hour before boarding". That may sound like just being given information, but the annoyance in her voice was palpable.
My wife is thankfully passed out on the ground, which means she's not puking.
I await the hour before I'm allowed to know where I'm sitting and go back up to the gate. Now there's a man sitting there.
"Hey man I just need to know the seats I have."
"Sir, we are deplaning."
I roll my eyes. Is this request too much to ask? Do I even have a seat? Am I still on standby? (All inner thoughts)
"Okay. They just told me to come an hour beforehand." I mutter under my breath. A little too loud I'm afraid.
"SIR". The man calls me back. "We need to deplane before." Now in a much more authoritative tone.
"Okay I'll just come back later."
Twenty minutes pass, I look back.
'Zone 1'
Shit, boarding. I wake up my wife. A necessary evil, because as soon as she wakes up. "I need to puke, be right back"
I go to the ticket counter for the third time. "Alright man, can you tell me my seats?"
"They're all on the screen up there, organized by initial." He points and explains. 28A and 28B. We have seats. We're going to make it. But my wife is still in the bathroom.
Now why the man didn't just tell me the first time that the seats would be posted on the monitor? no fucking idea.
I see the zones move incredibly quick. Way faster than I've ever seen them move before. I blink and it's zone 3, I sneeze and it's zone 5. I turn my head towards the bathroom, turn back, zone 7.
"No." I think to myself. It can't be that they're going to leave us here. Even though it's still about 35 min before departure, I'm paranoid my wife's bathroom duties will take too long. I text her, no answer. I call her. No answer.
"Is she okay? Did she pass out and hit her head? Did she fall asleep on the toilet?" I debate running behind enemy lines and calling her name, but really don't think the fallout that would come from entering the women's restroom is worth it.
My sweet, beautiful, wife emerges from the crowd. Looking like absolute hell. She has a petechial rash around her eyes. (Small dots that indicate small burst blood vessels). Is it from puking? Is it dengue fever? Remember. I'm a doctor, sometimes I know too much.
"Hey all the zones have boarded, I think we're the last ones." She shuffles beside me. We make it to the gate.
We get up to the gate and the same woman from earlier looks at me and says, "good morning". I don't answer. I'm not in the mood anymore. "GOOD MORNING" she says louder, like I'm a school kid being admonished for not responding to an adult appropriately.
I don't flinch. My eyes are on the prize. We just need to sit down.
We enter the flight, a bunch of empty seats. Empty seats in first class, main cabin plus. This flight is about 30% full.
Our seats? The second to last row. Bastards.
Jokes on then, it was the closest seat to the bathroom so they actually did us a huge favor.
We start to taxii, my wife's mouth is trying to smile but the muscles don't seem to be responding. The flight attendant notices something is off.
"Are you okay to fly sweetie? Have you been cleared?"
I immediately play the doctor card.
"Yes. I'm a doctor. She has acute gastritis, likely from an allergic intolerance. She should be fine on the flight." I hold my breath. Will the flight attendant respect my very biased medical opinion?
"Okay, it's a short flight." She brings a bag in case she pukes. We take off.
My wife ends up in the bathroom once and then takes a whole row immediately across from me. She immediately falls asleep.
I'm finishing this post from the comforts of my couch. The dogs thrilled to see us. The house smelling vaguely like incense, a small present left by our fantastic dog sitter. My wife is in bed with a sleep mask on, blackout curtains up, door closed. We made it.
TL;DR
Fuck delta.
Edit: apparently I was not clear on this. I DONT blame delta for the allergic reaction. I do blame them for multiple mechanical issues leading to flight delays.