Little Flight of Horrors

Today has not been a good day. No, today has not been a good day AT ALL! Why???

Today I got on an airplane. Who likes to get on an airplane just days after a major airplane disaster? Who likes to get on an airplane with her husband and leave kiddos behind with friends just days after a major airplane disaster? I do not like this, Sam-I-Am!

Granted, my kids are with people who adore them, and who the kids adore. In fact, for the last 3 days Snapper has asked me several times a day how long it is until Thursday at 9:00 (the time we dropped them off with our friends). I have total confidence in my friends.

But...
There's always that what if that floats around at the back of my mind. I gave my worry to God, and was amazingly calm as the plane lifted off out of Little Rock. Amazingly calm--albeit a little bit queasy and airsick--when we landed in Dallas. I thoroughly enjoyed orange chicken, beef with broccoli, and chow mein at a Chinese restaurant in the airport, and felt much better. I was amazingly calm as the plane took off out of Dallas. And in the next 90 minutes I made great progress on the blanket I'm crocheting for my niece Anjali, due the beginning of July.

I suppose today was a good day. The plane landed safely in Phoenix, where my hubs and I are working at a marriage conference over the weekend. It was a good day because it starts a fun weekend of some time spent with my birthmom, and my friend Kara who I've been friends with since 3rd grade.

But today was also awful. About 45 minutes away from Phoenix, we hit turbulence. Now friends, I have done an awful lot of flying in my life. I've encountered lots of turbulence--some minor, some bad enough to make flight attendants scramble for their seats. But the turbulence we hit today was some of the worst I've experienced. Every few minutes, between bumps and rattles, the plane would catch a wind gust and kind of swoop to the side, and swing back to the other side. This girl has a sensitive stomach on smooth flights. Oh no, this was not good. I wasn't scared. That had to be God keeping the fear at bay, because it was one roller coater of a flight.

About 30 minutes away from Phoenix, I put away my crocheting and stuck my head down in my lap. Ooooooooh, queaseball! 20 minutes away from Phoenix I turned my air vent on full blast and sat at an odd angle so the air could blow straight in my face. I pushed very hard on the pressure points on my wrists that are supposed to relieve nausea. It didn't help, and now my wrists are bruised. Not doing well... 10 minutes from Phoenix I groped for the barf bag in the seat pocket and clutched it in my lap, frantically sending up silent prayers to God to PLEASE SPARE ME! The nice business man across the aisle was watching me with increasing concern for the safety of his suit. 5 minutes from landing, the ground was clearly in sight, and I could make out people swimming in the pools we were flying over. I started reciting Psalm 23 in my head in a desperate attempt to distract my brain from the warning signals it was receiving from my stomach. Psalm 23 was the only piece of Scripture I could recall at the moment. All the talk of sheep and prepared tables did not help at all. So I kept praying, and just willed the plane to land, to land, to land already! And then came the all-too-familiar sensation of salivary glands firing and throat tightening. I think I held my breath for a full minute, all the while screaming in my mind, "YOU WILL NOT THROW UP ON THIS PLANE!!! HOLD IT IN, BABY, HOLD IT IN!"

And then it happened. 2 minutes from landing, that blasted wind lifted the plane, and dropped it with a sickening thud. Not on the ground, of course. It was just another horrid lurch of turbulence. But it was the final straw for me. And oh horrors, up came my lunch, right into that very handy barf bag. Yes, some people actually do use those bags for purposes other than creating puppets to entertain restless children! Matt looked at me and his eyes widened. Apparently he had never seen me that color before. A lovely shade of green. I like green a lot...I just don't like to be green.

Then, mercifully, the plane landed. I managed to contain myself long enough to get to the bathroom. Wouldn't you know it, there was a line! And some woman had the nerve to cut in front of me. Hello, people! Can't you see I'M ABOUT TO HURL AGAIN! I made it to the stall just in time. And then there was nothing left in me to cause any problems. Ah, the relief of an empty stomach. I was so thankful we had not checked any luggage, and I had my toothbrush and mouthwash right there.

It is now 9:45 p.m. I am sitting in my very lovely hotel room at a beautiful resort. I ate a chicken caesar salad for dinner, and my stomach is still questioning that decision. I'm wiped out, and I still don't feel great. It was such an embarrassing episode on the plane. And I hate feeling sick in my stomach. I hope it all improves tomorrow. On the way home on Monday I will take dramamine. That, I learned today, is no longer optional for this girl!

Major props to my sweet, wonderful, amazing, knight of a husband who very gently tucked my, um...stomach contents...into his briefcase in order to spare me the embarrassment of having to carry my puke off the plane in that very obvious white baggie. Matt, you're my hero!