This is my coronavirus horror story-at least the beginning and middle chapters. The ending hasn't been written yet.

Every year, I plan a vacation to the United States to visit family and friends. Around October, I chose travel dates, got approval and purchased airplane tickets for my wife and I. Late January.

Tick, tick, tick ... the clock wound slowly toward the joyful day. But suddenly, at year's end, this bug called a coronavirus ripped into China.

Bad news for Wuhan, I thought at the time, but it shouldn't pose any problem for me. I wasn't going there, and besides, I don't eat strange wild animals or shop for them at live markets. But a seed of doubt had been planted.

Tick, tick, tick ... The virus spread-and rapidly. Flights were canceled; cities were closed off. But I wasn't too worried, even though the bug was claiming increasing numbers of victims and had sneaked into every province and region.

There's only a few cases in Beijing, I reasoned with forced confidence, and I'm leaving town soon.

As the picture worsened in China during January, however, I began to sweat. The seed of doubt sprouted and then grew like Jack's overnight beanstalk. Domestic flights were being canceled left and right.

We should be OK, I reasoned again, more shakily. Our flight would take us from Beijing to Xiamen, flying 9,000 meters over Wuhan, before catching the next big bird to San Francisco.

Tick, tick, tick ... The infection accelerated across the country. I checked news reports regularly. And then, the day before our scheduled departure, I got an alarming email: The flight inside China-the one from Beijing to Xiamen-had been canceled.

Canceled? NOOO!! Well, yes, actually.

Scrambling to the travel booking sites, I desperately searched for an alternative. There were several choices, if you're willing to pay $30,000(yes, dollars!) for a one way ticket. Finally, I booked the last two seats on a Korean Airlines flight to Seoul, connecting to a Delta flight to Seattle.

Hahaha, home free! Or so I thought.

According to news reports, the coronavirus was about to inundate Beijing. It looked like we might get out just ahead of the infectious wave. So, we packed and headed to the airport, navigating the maze of security and fever scans.

Everybody was wearing a mask-but I was smiling behind mine. Just in time!

Tick... tick... tick...

When it was time to check in, I rolled our luggage-laden cart to the Korean Airlines counter. That's when lightning struck.

"I'm sorry, sir. The South Korean government just announced that nobody with a Chinese passport can make a flight transition in Seoul."

My wife has a Chinese passport.

Uhhh... What to do, now?"All we can tell you sir, is that she cannot go to Seoul."

I begged. "Sorry, sir."

I pleaded. "Sorry, sir."

I cried tears. "Sorry, sir. Please go away now. You'll have to contact the South Korean government."

Tick... tick... tick...

Instead of that, I rushed to the Delta Airlines office located among the labyrinthine corridors of the third floor of Beijing Capital International Airport.

"We can get you on another flight," the agent told me.

"What's the fare?"

"$30,000."

Yeah, right. Will they let us hold onto the wings and ride outside for a discount?

I begged. "Sorry, sir."

I pleaded. "Sorry, sir."

I cried tears, and then-miraculously-a sympathetic Delta employee said,"Give me your passport and wait here." After a few minutes, she returned. She had found a China Southern Airlines flight to Shenyang, Liaoning province, and a connection to Seattle, Washington. It would be an eight-hour wait, and there was no guarantee it wouldn't be canceled (as many flights had been that day), but we could try.

It was the longest wait of my life. When we finally boarded the plane and took off, the smile behind my mask widened, but truth be told, I had the jitters. We were not out of China yet. There was still a white-knuckle chance we could be stuck in Shenyang for the rest of our lives.

Security at the Shenyang airport kindly rushed us through a new luggage check and another coronavirus screening. If not for their help, we would not have made the connection-but eventually we found ourselves on our way to Seattle on what may have been the last flight out of China. Then we had to spend 14 days in US-mandated quarantine.

At last, the vacation began, and we drove to Texas, Georgia and up the East Coast, only to find ourselves in a new pickle.

China is facing an increased risk of imported coronavirus, which could start a new epidemic. So it's not an ideal time to return.

We're in the US, where the coronavirus is just now intensifying. The last thing China wants is another infection carried by a foreigner. I tried to outrun the bug but it seems to be chasing me.

So here I sit, isolated in a hotel room, running out of money and watching the coronavirus sweep the US, whose leaders didn't have the sense to take aggressive action months ago, in light of China's experience, to prevent a US pandemic.

I have no idea how this tale will end. Maybe when it's over, I'll go on vacation.