Continuing with the saga of Ira Riklis’ broken leg:
Getting home was quite a trick too.
My father made some wonderful arrangements, but it still managed to go awry. I was taken by ambulance (very comfortably) down to Geneva where we were met by a private jet owned by a friend of my father. I was stretched out on a couch with my leg elevated and traveled (very comfortably) to London.
Now comes the problem. The flight on TWA was fully booked, so I wouldn’t be able to position myself across two seats. Also, because of swelling, my leg had to be elevated. So I had the first row of First Class with no seat in front of me, where my father put a hard sided piece of luggage to support my leg in an elevated position.
If the flight had been smooth, this probably would have worked. However, in 1970, jets used to cruise at about 25,000 feet. At that altitude, if there is any weather disturbance, you are right in the middle of it. Modern jetliners cruise at much higher altitudes today, usually 45,000 to 50,000 feet, comfortably above the weather. And of course we flew straight into a storm.
My leg, which the bones had not yet knitted, was bouncing up and slamming back down on this hard piece of luggage constantly. I was in tremendous pain for many hours.