My innards threatened to become my outtards… don’t question me… I had a fever. I honestly had so much more than a fever… but the fasten seatbelt sign burrowed into the psyche of my moral standards… well liabilities really. Not only that, but the stay in the airport the night before hadn’t done much for my hygiene at the time… I think the baby next to me is seriously opposed to my stench. “He’s flown before. He’ll be good” Yeah. He’s fine alright.
I couldn’t wait. I released myself from the restricting grip of the seatbelt and shot for the stall. The flight attendant looked at me with wary eyes, but the eyes of a mother were now soft as I explained my health… and she saw the color draining from my face. A mother knows… the obvious.
We traveled down the tarmac as I slushed out my entire day’s previous meals. When I could finally stand, the flight attendant knocked to give a minute warning for the takeoff. Fine… but I looked to the toilet for only a glance to indicate my intent to return.
The take off was not the easiest, but the child agreed with me… Honestly kid… you don’t know true suffering. My intestines were devolving. Fine… I shall return to my capsule of a prison. But first… “Ma’am we have a seat open in the back if you and your son would follow me…” Bye kid.
Side note… I was using the first class cabin’s restroom… well I was in business… but I couldn’t enjoy it… because the very movement involved in ordinary flight seemed to send my stomach into even more of a tizzy.
“Can I get you some ginger ale sweetheart?” Under normal circumstance, the term ‘sweetheart’ would wrench my stomach, but she was kind, and I was already too nauseas.
“Pick out a snack too… The granola bar would be good to settle your stomach…”
“Thank you so much.”
“Of course. We’ve all been there.”
The warmth behind her smile made my queazy line of lips turn upward at the edges. I sat with my complimentary snack-age and tried to settle myself. I must’ve chewed about five tums… I could’ve paid twenty bucks for some pepto.
I ingested more, but my body didn’t want it… Too late. The brief forty-five minute flight was now minutes from landing.
“Damn…” My empty can was tossed, and the half eaten granola bar was looked at by my favorite flight attendant. “You should try to finish that.”
“Thank you” I wouldn’t, but I wouldn’t argue with her either.
If you could believe it my condition was deteriorating further… Up until that point I had kept disposal of my waste to my rectal region, but now… the new contents of my stomach were not being warmly welcomed.
The worst landing of my life then ensued catching the attention of the other flight attendant… She would have to be an idiot to not notice. I was hyperventilating as to not projectile vomit everywhere.
“Are you okay” I could have smacked her… in what world would I be okay…?
I shook my head and she asked again fifteen seconds later. “Do you think I could get off early…?” We landed. I was trying to ask her if I could stand up, but apparently she was an idiot… Eventually, when we came to a complete stop, she said, “You can try.” Of course I can try, but its too late now.
I made it off the plane. I don’t think I said thank you to anyone, but the stench of my tarmac Hershey squirt-age now carried itself up the ramp to my rescue point, the restroom stall now forever graced with almost all my bodily mis-functions.
In all honesty, I don’t know how I made it to the luggage. I was subconscious and everyone kept their distance from me so… that’s probably why. If anyone would’ve crowded me my body would’ve rejected them, dramatically.
I have never endured more bitter suffering in my entire existence.
To the delta flight attendant who assisted me… Thank you from the bottom of my being.
Much love to you and your travel experiences.
~may your breath always be the way you wish~