Twenty-three hours. That’s how long it was going to take us to get back home from Egypt. The journey would involve four airplanes: Aswan to Cairo, Cairo to Paris, Paris to New York, New York to Los Angeles. Plus one 45-minute Uber ride to get to our front door. This was the calculation I was running in my head when trying to decide what to do about the blood clot I was convinced was in my leg.
I’ll admit: Too much reading on random medical websites got me to this panicked line of thinking. I lay in the bed at our hotel in Aswan, clutching my phone close while reading through symptoms of blood clots.
“Let’s go check out the pool,” my husband, Greg, said gleefully, hoping to do something fun on our last day in Aswan.