My Worst Flight Ever

*Warning, long post to follow*

Last week’s flight from Dallas to London for my cousin Laura’s wedding was the worst I have ever experienced in my 24 years. And shockingly, it wasn’t due to any turbulence on the airplane. Alas let me explain…

This trip was to last a total of two and a half days. That’s right. A TEN HOUR FLIGHT each way… for a two and a half day trip to England. Such is the life of a young working man who has a job to return to. Now I am a notoriously bad jet-lagger especially when it concerns international flights. I’ve never been able to sleep on planes, so flying through the night for ten hours only to arrive at 8AM with a full day ahead of me has proven to be a brutal combination over the years. I don’t usually feel poorly on the plane, but once I arrive in London, I can usually be found in the corner in a catatonic state for a couple of days. (Matt and Jared… think “drug-induced stupor of yesteryear” times four)

Knowing this in advance, and determining that my problem lies in never being able to sleep on the plane, I took the advice of the Dallas taxi cab driver who took me to the airport. This transportation guru said that the secret is to swig a couple of drinks with the food. So I thought, “hey, I’m an adult over 21 years of age, why not?” And thus, my revolting airplane chicken was complimented by two $5 Bordeux’s.

Now I had managed to score an empty three-seat middle-row in coach. Pleased with my luck, I threw on my headphones, put it on a classical station with the volume on very low to drown out the engine noise, stole all three complimentary pillows from my row and , lay down with my head propped up against one of the far arm rests. Having managed to uncomfortably sleep with a metal buckle in my lower back for about forty minutes, all of a sudden 18,000 amps of terrible techno music jolted into my ears. “WTF???” I thought as I jumped up. Well my head had inadvertently turned both the volume wheel up to full blast and the station wheel to the “crappy techno” in one full swoop. Both devices were located under the pillows, so when I did my best to snuggle, I had an ear bleeding surprise.

Fully awake now, and miserable at my conclusion that I will NEVER be able to sleep on a plane. I quickly stood up and walked to the bathroom. When I got to the bathroom and turned on the sink to splash water on my face, it was then that it hit me. I can only assume that this is what a menopausal hot flash feels like. I came over boiling and weak, and then next thing I knew I was on the ground. Yes my friends…I HAD FAINTED IN THE AIRPLANE BATHROOM!!!

Once I got over my “how the hell did I get here. I’m not sexually liberated enough to have joined the Mile High Club” confusion, I left the restroom and slugged my way over to the nearest stewardess feeling utterly nauseous. I truly felt that I was about to join the “Ralph in the Air” club at literally any moment . OH MY GOD YOU LOOK HORRIBLE!!! The stewardess said. She repeated this phrase OVER AND OVER again ad nauseum (no pun intended). . Then she pointed to a greenish-grey object (probably the airline chicken) and said “See that!!! That’s what you look like!”

For some reason, decided I didn’t like her very much and I mumbled some weak, inaudible retort. Then she grabbed me, threw me into an empty first class seat, and proceeded to make me inhale three, count ‘em THREE ENTIRE TANKS OF OXYGEN! If it had been helium instead, I would have floated away.

After my oxygen dinner, (still better than plane food) I began to feel better. But once she removed the oxygen, after two minutes, all of a sudden I felt like death again. A sharp pain had entered my stomach. And so I asked for some more oxygen. Well this freaked the stewardess out for some reason and so she thought it right to go on the PA and ask if there were any physicians on the plane. Generating little response, I heard her say really loudly “If there isn’t a physician on the plane I swear I’m going to kill myself” That made me feel really good about things. Then, not having any luck, she informed me that she was contacting Gatwick airport to arrange for THE PARAMEDICS TO MEET ME ON THE PLANE WHEN WE LANDED!

Then she decided to ask if there was a nurse on the plane, and this time she struck gold. Next thing I knew, this really nice, sweet, and pretty nurse was telling me that she thought that I might have appendicitis. “Great” I thought….as if this trip wasn’t going to be hectic enough, now I have to schedule some emergency surgery through the –oh-so-efficient English Health Care system and then be recovered enough in time for a wedding and a ten hour trip home. BRILLIANT.

The nurse was so nice though and I liked her much more than the stewardess. And so my thought process was as follows:

“I feel like Death…..I feel like Death…I feel like death….wow she really is pretty darn cute……I feel like death……I feel like death……gosh look at her eyes, they really sparkle….hmmm I wonder if I can get her number…..I feel like death……darn she mentioned a husband just now …..I REALLY FEEL LIKE DEATH”

As we descended, I began to feel better. . When we hit the ground, I still felt wan, but believed that all would be well. But alas, the stewardess announced that everyone had to all exit through one aisle, and keep the other aisle free because a paramedic would be entering the airplane. “Nuts” I thought “I get to be the dumbass guy who feels fine while inconveniencing everybody”

So the paramedic came, and he explained that I was suffering from a sever case of motion sickness. APPARENTLY THE WORST THING ONE CAN DO IS TO HVE SOME DRINKS IN MID-AIR, AND THEN TRY TO SLEEP because it screws up your body's balancing mechanism. (Thanks Dallas taxi man..thanks for nothing)

The paramedic said he would take me to hospital but I declines. So then he asked if the nurse and I were traveling together. And I, (and as far as I’m concerned, this puts me into the mack-daddy hall of fame) sputtered weakly “no….she isn’t…….much to my chagrin”. (*bows*....thank you...thank you) I then proceeded to get the nurse’s name and address so I could thank her when I felt better. And I found out, that she has a sister…. 

I dragged my bags off the plane, made it through customs, took the long taxi ride to central London…got to the hotel, and found out that they didn’t have my booking even though I booked it months ago…..welcome to England….