It was 6:30 p.m. and I was caught in traffic on the outskirts of Cincinnati. I got a sudden but severe sinus infection the day before that had left me unable to breathe, barely able to speak and had drained all semblance of life from my body. I had maybe the most important court case of my life the next day before an Important Federal Appeals Court, and the case could go either way. I don't know how I'm going to be able to do this.
Little did I know how much worse things would get:
6:35: Usually when I have travel to Cincinnati for appellate argument, I use my per diem for a nice working dinner. I'm usually so stoked about appearing before the jurisdiction only one notch below the U.S. Supreme Court that I have too much energy to stay in my hotel. Tonight, though, I'm just thrilled at the site of a gas station with a built-in pizza hut on the highway. Now, I can eat there, have a powerade, and then not have to leave my hotel room once I crawl inside of it.
7:02: Cheap pizza consumed and 1.5 powerades finished, I'm back on the road.
7:30: Traffic finally subsided, and I'm glad to check into my hotel. I have a heavy suitcase, lots of files, a garment bag and my breakfast for the next morning with me, but I can barely manage to carry it all myself. Which is good because I only have a $20 and that kind of tip would be insane.
7: 31: Take the elevator to the top of the hotel and delicately balance my possessions as I walk to the end of the long, winding hallway where my room awaits. Drop everything to slide my key through the door. And it doesn't work.
7:32: This is interesting. Do I leave all my earthly belongings here on the floor while I go back to the front desk, or do I gather them back up, delicately balance them to walk back to the elevator, only to return right back here with it all?
7:34: Pondering.
7:37: Still thinking. It's a pretty nice hotel and I have a pretty remote room on the far end of the hall. And I'm so achy and drained that every single step I take feels like a session of P90X. But if my stuff disappears I'll hate myself, and some of my files probably shouldn't be out of my sight. But I don't think I can balance all this stuff again if I tried. So I try the key again. Still nothing.
7:42: My ship has come in! A bellman happens to walk by and he lets me in my room, promising to return with a valid key. Things are looking up.
8:00: Working. Telling myself I can do this.
10:59: Very suddenly, my energy vanishes. There's more I'd like to do, but I must go to sleep, and I must sleep now.
11:01: How in the world did I forget my toothbrush? The hotel has complimentary ones, but I'm too tired to go back down to the lobby. I'll get one in the morning. I'll just take my sinus medicine and go to bed.
11:02: How did I leave my sinus medicine in the car? If I don't have the energy to go to the lobby, there's no way I'm going to the parking garage
11:03: Oh well. I have dirty teeth and congestion, but I think I can sleep through it. At least I have one of those little wiry things that cleans the space in between my teeth. That will have to do. Except that it immediately breaks when I used it.
11:05: Barely extract my contact lens from my tired, dry right eye. The way things are going tonight, I'm shocked it didn't rip.
11:06: But my left one just did.
11:08: Holy crap! The other half of it is still in my eye! This hurts like mad. And I can't figure out how to get it out!!!!!!!!
11:10-11:30: AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Make! It! Stop!
11:31: Finally got it. That was miserable. I have no spare contact, so I'll have to wear glasses tomorrow. But, at last, now I can go to bed.
11:34: My room is directly over the hotel bar. It sure is loud down there. And why is there a baby crying in the hallway at this time of night? Is this one of those hotels where a child died 100 years ago and people still claim to hear it?
11:36: Thing is, I'm not even scared, I just don't want to put up with the noise. I want to sleep. Go haunt someone else.
11:38: Go out in the hallway to look for a visible baby. There's no evidence of one, but I see a woman who might possibly be its mother. She appears to have human form. Good enough for me.
11:40: Just need to shut down the computer before bed. Since it's still up, maybe I'll check facebook. I had mentioned yesterday that I was nervous about my ability to pull off this argument while barely able to talk and encased in an all-encompassing sickness-related mental cloud. Maybe I'll have an outpouring of encouragement and prayer support from my vast and wonderful array of highly spiritual and uplifting facebook friends! That would life my spirits like nothing I can imagine! What a wonderful way to go to sleep!
11:44: Or maybe I'll have nothing new whatsoever. Oh well. It was worth a shot.
12:00: Bed.
7:30: Roll out of bed after hitting snooze for 45 minutes. I need to leave in 45 minutes. I can probably just pull it off, even if I do have to shower, get coffee, put on a suit, eat breakfast, and run downstairs for a toothbrush. Man, do I feel awful.
8:30: Arrive to court just in time to check in for my argument. Learn I'm the last case on the docket and probably won't go until about 11:30. Request (and receive) permission to go back to my hotel and lie face down on my pillow for the next two hours. Which is exactly what I do, with some groaning added in for good measure.
10:30: Rouse myself, and make it back to court, where things are running behind. My argument won't be until noon. Maybe that will give me enough time to feel better.
12:00: It's on. The other side goes first.
12:12: It's my turn. Adrenaline pumping, I confidently walk to the podium, ready to introduce myself to the court and wow the panel of judges with my limitless verbal abilities. That plan works fine until my voice disappears in the middle of my attempt to introduce myself to the Court.
********************************
I recovered, and somehow, against all odds, things went fine from there.
A person or two must have said a prayer for me after all.
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