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Dear Steve Gonsalves [ Ghost Hunters ], I get you bro.
You go through all these emotions when you make the decision to fly somewhere. For me, this was a new adventure in a place I had never been before. After I booked the flight, I was scared, anxious, excited, and unsure, a crazy concoction of emotions. I counted the days down excitedly, but that uneasy feeling did not go away.
I did all my research before I packed my bags, everything under the 3.4FLoz was met in accordance with the TSA website. I packed for warm weather, cool weather, and comfortable. Because of my careful and obsessive compulsive disorder, I made it though airport security without a single issue or an out of place eyelash.
I got my Starbucks.
Arriving at my gate, I watched all the people boarding their flights, saying goodbyes on phones, and checking in baggage. It was interesting to see how anxious some of my other would-be passengers were. It was almost reassuring that I wasn’t the only one. I had my boarding pass in hand, scanned it, and was on my way.
A quick scan on the plane reviled it was less then 1/3 booked. And me, being me. Was sat in the only section on the whole plane making it full. The two other women in the row were flying together. I was the outsider. The informed me in an almost ‘do this’ fashion that ‘once the flight attendant gave the okay, we could change seats - if we wanted’ I assumed we was me. I was happy to oblige them, and moved as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
As the plan taxied the run way, I became nervous. This was only my second time flying - and I was alone. This time there was no one to hold my hand. There was no one to share the experience with me. Nervously, I looked to the woman sitting across me in the ‘new’ row, searching her face for some kind of comfort as the plane readied its position for take off. Though she glanced my direction, she offered no reassuring smile or gesture of comfort... to my dismay.
I sent my last text message before we were in the air, it was to people who I wanted to be the executors of my estate if something did happen, because, lets face it, doesn’t everyone feel ‘if something is going to happen, it can, will, and does.... to me.’ I realized when I sent these messages that I was truly afraid. There are many things I plan to do when I get home, a will being one of them. While I don’t know if my text messages to my loved ones would serve proof that I wanted them to have ‘the power’ if something happened, I felt it was better then nothing.
It seemed like an eternity before the plan was ready to actually take off. My new seat was directly over the left wing. A series of tests was done, starting, stopping, testing breaks, the landing gear, the wing gear, everything.
They pressurized the cabin, sending me into a silent, full on, panic attack. I tried to breathe slowly, and deeply, but this just wasn’t working. I pictured the plane crashing on the runway and how it would play out on the nightly news. I couldn’t help it, however morbid it may sound.
The creaking and winding of the of the plane made the issues worse. The turbines. Oh the turbines... As I felt the plane lift off, the ground now a sad casualty to the magic of flight... I was freaking out. I prayed. ( I am writing this while waiting to arrive in Oakland, currently 40 minutes and counting. ) I sat in the middle of the row with the windows open, convinced I needed to make myself see this take place, maybe it would make me less afraid.
I don’t know how far from the ground we were when we started hitting turbulence. If I thought I was afraid before, it didn’t compare to how upset I was now. Before leaving home I had taken motion sickness pills ( I also suffer from rare but severe vertigo. ) and in all my careful planning... had forgotten my ibuprofen. With a stuffed up sinus, it started to become a migraine, and my panic did not help.
I looked around for the flight attendant when we finally got into the air. They were chit chatting in the back of the plane - while I starred at them in a needy manner. You know the look. Well, they ignored me. The pain grew worse while I waited my turn to be served. Finally. I let them know I needed pain killers. They did get me what I needed. More turbulence. At this point, I was done with it. So over it at this point. Then, I needed to potty. On the last flight, I was so afraid of getting out of my seat I waited three hours.
I wasn’t going to be able to wait, I unbuckled my seat belt with my trembling fingers, and walked to the back of the plane to use the lavatory. I hurriedly did my business and went back to my seat, promptly buckling my seatbelt. The flight attendant checked on me and let me know I could use my Macbook if I wanted. I did, I am. More turbulence as I write this. It sends my mind back to visions of the nightly news....
I can’t wait to get my feet back on the ground where they belong.
I think that if I want to pursue a job that affords me the luxury of travel, I need to get over this. I can’t drive everywhere.... right? Right.
We’re now decending at 2200 feet... or did he say 22000...? I have ‘The Dark Knight’ in my ear, so I am not sure. But we are about to arrive. If I manage to post this online... I made it.
