My trip to New York was good in most ways. The only problem is I basically had no room on the plane because of my oxygen tank. It was close to torture. I loved how they gave me several glasses of water, and chocolate as a snack, but I also got several looks from people that looked concerned for me and had several people come up and ask my case, and why I have the tank.
I even had a lovely man ask if I needed help getting my tank out from in between seats. Several children stared, some cried, and mothers apologized. I didn't mind.
My favourite part about flying was the touch down. The way that it pushed you on the edge of your seat, and the way that you felt when you realized, you were now on earth, and could go where you want, and you're not restricted.
I sat by my brother, in the window seat. He managed to keep me fully entertained for the entire flight. Except for the first half our where I fell asleep on his shoulder.
