Flight Anxiety

On the Internet, I read things relating to airline flights.  Once upon a time, I thought my flying times were over, but after my family moved to the Seattle area, that changed.

Fortunately, most of the time, I haven't experienced problems while flying.  But there have been some.

Once, on the way back from Oklahoma City, my bag was randomly selected for a search.  I stood there while a gal wearing gloves went through everything I had packed.  Sniffed my toiletries to make sure they were what they were, and randomly went through my underwear and clothes.  Nothing I could do about it.  I was cleared to go on my way.

Another time, on my way home from Seattle, my carry-on bag alerted for gun powder (or so I was told).  It was a brand new suitcase.   Inside was my laptop computer, my breathing nebulizer and mouthparts plus albuterol sulfate vials.  Didn't think about it at the time, but I had been careless about putting the mouthparts into the suitcase.  Duh...gun powder also has sulfate in it.  I don't know for sure, but I'm guessing that my breathing medication created an alert for gun powder.  I got totally patted down and examined.  Eventually, I was cleared to go.  My wheelchair pusher wasn't happy about the delay--less money for her--but I was happy to be on my way.

One time, while escorting my grandchildren to San Jose, California, my bag didn't make it.  The family took me to the store to buy what I needed to get through the next few hours.   The suitcase turned up the next day.  Southwest Airlines offered to deliver it to me, but we decided to retrieve it ourselves because we were very close.

One time, on my way to my daughter's in California alone, my flight was delayed for three hours, or so we were told.  And then the person at the desk called my name and told me that I was being redirected, along with another person, on another flight that was "now boarding" for San Jose.  On the plane, I asked the flight attendant to make sure I was on the right flight for San Jose.  He said, "This flight is going to Orange County Airport."  I was mortified.  What??  Am I on the wrong flight?  And then he smiled and said, "And THEN we will go to San Jose".  I wanted to smack him!

The absolute worse experience for me, however, had nothing to do with the airline.  I was escorting my grandchildren to California to be with their mother.  They were quite young...  We experienced a delay on the tarmac...something about not being cleared to leave until the skies cleared of planes, etc.  Granddaughter Robin needed to go to the bathroom and so was allowed...but she didn't come out and she didn't come out.  Finally, we were cleared to take off but couldn't because Robin was still in the bathroom.  I got up to check on her with a flight attendant's encouragement.  The bathroom door wasn't even locked.  She was washing her hands and seemed nonchalant but, unbeknownst to the rest of us, had diarrhea.  She'd had no choice, but I didn't know it at the time.  I chided her, "Robin, the whole plane is waiting for you so we can take off!!"  She came out and took her seat...and we took off.  Whew!

On our approach to San Jose, CA, I began to experience strange sensations in my head.  Pain was popping here and there.  Ping here and ping there.  Scary stuff.  Things I couldn't explain.  Things that hurt and affected me, big time.  I began to feel weak and anxious.  I wanted desperately to tell someone what was going on, but even the flight attendants were strapped in for landing and couldn't have helped.  I never said anything to anyone, but in my brain, I was saying, "Dear God, please let me get these children to their mother before you take me!"  I had no idea what was happening to me, and it affected me the entire rest of the day, I was so very scared.
Over the next 24 hours, the whole thing faded.  No lasting effects.  I had flown before and have since.  Nothing like that has ever happened to me again.  The best explanation I have is that, somehow, the cabin pressure in the plane messed with my head.  I was just so very happy that the kids got to their mother on my watch, in spite of what was going on with me.  Whew!  I'm not sure anyone really understands how totally frightened I was.

For me, flying is akin to going into surgery.  Your life is in someone else's hands.  What goes up must come down, and you pray that your surgeon and your pilot are paid handsomely enough to be dedicated to what they do.  I will be flying to Seattle again in early May, with my co-grandma, Judy.
With God's help, we will survive!