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Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Winging with Wine

Buckle up, this is a long one. Also, unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view) we do not have pictures of this event. So, I will illustrate. Lucky you.
So, as you may or may not know, I am a horrible flyer. I dislike even thinking about being on an airplane. I loathe actually being on an airplane and I wet my pants in flight. I also claw the arm off of anyone sitting near me because of my great, great fear. I’m sure that my picture and description are on a website somewhere warning people that if they are seated next to me on a plane they should ask to be moved. Immediately.
About six months to a year before actually getting on a plane I start having stress dreams. Last time the husband and I flew I was such a mess that I transferred my anxiety straight into him via small flesh wounds in his arms made with my hands which had transfigured into beastlike talons. He couldn't calm down the whole trip whereas, as soon as we touched down I was right as rain, happy as a clam. Poor kid.
So a plan was devised for this most recent trip. I would go to the doctors, get a prescription for something very strong and be unconscious by take off. A good time would be had by all. When we made this decision my stress dreams changed from being on a plane to forgetting my medicine and being on a plane. Adorable.
So get the meds - Valium. Just a few pills for the way down a few for the way back. The doc tells me not to mix it with alcohol or I "will not like the results". I don't ask why. She tells me to be careful with the pills since I'm a small person. One pill should do me just fine. I'll be asleep for 4-10 hours. The husband starts worrying about dragging a limp body off of the plane.
I am calm the entire day, putting all my trust in chemistry. I don't worry because I know that I'll be asleep before take off. Glee! I take the pill one half hour before getting on the plane, as instructed. I walk on the plane, feeling too normal. I start to worry. This is not good. I had forgotten how small planes are! My claustrophobia sets in as I scrunch by already small body into a coffin like seat between the husband and my friend HB. They both look worried. The medicine hasn't kicked in. Which one of them is going to sacrifice their arm to the claw beast? I close my eyes and tilt my head up so that I'm breathing in the cold air from the spigot above on the ceiling button console. I try to relax, try to feel myself getting sleepy, falling asleep. Nothing.
I coach the husband and HB to hold tightly to my wrists as we take off. It is at this point that I realize our pilot must be (enter name of Nascar driver here). He goes 1,000 miles per hour and angles up at about 90 degrees. I'm fairly certain I'm going to die. My butt hurts from clenching. Sleep is nowhere in sight. I can't even have any alcohol for fear that I "wont like the results". I try to relax. It does no good. About an hour in I say I'd like another pill. The husband doesn't think it's a good idea. HB says to do it. She isn't scared of dragging a lifeless body off of a plane. I compromise and take a half. It does nothing.
About an hour before we land I've had it. I can't control myself any longer. I'm about to start climbing over the seats and screeching like an owl. I look at the husband with wild eyes. "I need something", I say. He looks like he's going to start rocking back and forth while singing twinkle twinkle little star. I look at the laptop that he's watching a movie on. "I need that. I need the internet." He promptly pays the $10 for an hour of internet without hesitation, bless him. It wasn't the greatest, but it got me through.
Now, on the way home I devised a plan: Alcohol. Lots of it. The flight back was at 3:00 pm. I started a regimen of drinks at 8. I was happily slurring over my Mikey Mouse shaped pancakes. After breakfast we watched some Sesame Street in our room. I was drinking red wine out of a soda cup with a straw. It was the husband's job to keep me awake. If I could just maintain a nice level of drink induced happiness and not fall asleep I'd be able to fall asleep immediately on the plane. He failed. He fell asleep, and then what's a girl to do? So, I had to start all over.
The only thing was that we had to get on the bus to the airport at 11. We didn't make it to the airport and through the line until 2:00 pm. I ran to the bar. I never run, I hate running. My body isn't shaped for running. But I did, because that's commitment. Hurriedly I gulped down a glass of red wine, a long island iced tea and another glass of red wine. We boarded the plane at about 2:45. I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing. I was fairly sleepy, but before closing my eyes I was able to ask Nick to get me some wine when the cart came around. I then added that "I'd never forgive" him if he didn't. That was the liquor talking. I think.
At any rate the ride home was fantastic. I spent most of it asleep, a bit of time talking endlessly to HB about who knows what, and some of it looking out the window. Without peeing my pants! I was more or less awake for both landing and take off and was fine during both. I bought a bottle of red wine when I got home and every time I taste it I think about the airplane. In a good way! Let me recommend this course of action to anyone who hates to fly! It's amazing and getting sloshed is the best thing you could do for yourself. Ever.

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