Airport Cont. or I Should Start Listening to the Universe

I promise this will get more interesting real soon. But there's all this backstory and blah blah blah I have to lay down for the events of Greece to make sense.
So I got on my flight to Detroit, and the one beautiful happiness of the evil itinerary change, that apparenty the only seat left was in first class. That's right, I had acquired the holy grail of all air travel- first class on an international flight. The thing is though, that first class is pretty snooty. So, I always sit there in my sweatpants and crazy hair and feel like a giant arrow is pointing at me saying "Someone check her ticket, she can't possibly belong here."
But it is wonderful. We sat there waiting to take off, and they brought me orange juice in little champagne glasses, and little bottles of water. And I met the sweetest woman sitting next to me who invited me to come stay with her in San Fransisco.
And then we kept waiting. Apparently there was something wrong with the engine (which always fills my little heart with good thoughts). So we sat there and waited, and they checked the engine, and we waited. And I worried. A lot. I don't know about anyone else, but I hate traveling by myself. It's stressful. So many things can (and do, in my case) go wrong, and you're the only person that can fix it. You have no one to talk things through with or ask their opinion. And to add to the fun of the flight I also have one more little issue with international air travel- my ankles.
The year before I had gone to Russia to teach English. And when the plane touched down in St. Petersberg I tried to put my shoes back on and realized my ankles had swollen to three times their normal size. It was pretty amazing. I took a picture because it looked like my legs had been replaced with tree trunks and I was trying to put down roots in the plane.
Anyways, apparently this can be a pretty serious condition, if you don't get up or drink enough, so I also had that to worry about.
But two hours later we were off, and I could almost stop worrying for a minute because the food was AWESOME in first class (steak, mashed potatoes, caramel cheesecake, etc.) But then everyone settled in to go to sleep, and I obviously not sleeping, began to notice the pain creeping through my legs. At this time, I also realizedd that I was not making my connection in Amsterdam. I would have approximately 5 minutes to make it through customs, through the airport, and to my gate before the plane took off. And I made a deal with God. Because by this point in time I had about had it. Missing two connections, engine problems, etc, I was obviously not supposed to be going to Greece.
All I wanted to do was find a nice ticket agent and have them rebook me on the next flight back to Kentucky because as far as I was concerned, my Greek adventure was over before it had begun.
I should have stuck to that plan. I promise there's only one more chapter to my airport adventures and then on to more exciting fare.