My friend's son is driving back from Florida soon. I thought it would be a good idea for me to fly down and drive back with him. We get along really well, and I don't mind driving or riding long distances.
I have never liked to fly. I sort of enjoyed the short time it took to arrive somewhere, but I hated pretty much everything else about flying. It seemed that every time I flew, something went wrong. I've been on a plane that went through turbulence that was so bad I smacked my head on the window and dislocated vertebrae in my neck. I've been on a plane that filled with smoke, I've been on planes that dropped thousands of feet for seemingly no reason, I've been on planes whose airlines ran out of de-icing solution in the winter and had to “borrow” some from another airline. I've been on a plane where the stall warning went off after takeoff. I've been on planes that lost power, I've been on planes with bomb threats, plus I've had the inconveniences of delayed and canceled flights.
The first time I ever flew, I was 11, and I was traveling from Buffalo, New York to Los Angeles, California. That was the year of the rollover DC10 crash in Chicago. http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/dc-10-crashes-killing-all-aboard That plane crashed at the end of May, and I was scheduled to go out there at the end of June. The crash was huge news, and even an 11-year-old knew about it. In the back of my mind was my upcoming flight. To say that I was anxious was probably an understatement. Oh, yea, and I was flying alone. As evidenced by my writing tonight, I made it to LA and back, but I was not thrilled by the experience.
I'm not sure how long it was until my next flight. It was probably when I went to France. The flight there was by far the best flying experience I ever had. Flying home was another story (bomb threat, delayed flight, canceled flight).
When I worked in Chicago, we had to do a fair amount of traveling (flying). I'm sure my boss had bruises from me squeezing his arm and saying, “What's THAT?” every 2 minutes. He had a pilot's license, so I thought I'd feel better flying with him. Not so much.
My usual pre-flight ritual would be to stop in the hotel bar, have a vodka sunrise, pop 2 Benadryl, and board the plane. That would get me groggy enough to sleep through takeoff, sometimes even to cruising altitude. I would still wake up with sweaty palms. Apparently I was even nervous in my sleep.
When I would fly home from Chicago for a visit, I always took solace in the fact that there had never been a plane crash here in Buffalo.
The last time I flew was when we went to Disney in 2009. The flights actually weren't too bad. A delay coming home, but nothing major. Less than 24 hours after we landed, flight 3407 crashed in Clarence, just short of the Buffalo Airport. http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/13/nyregion/13crash.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0 We had flown the same airline and the same route 24 hours earlier. When I was booking the Disney trip, I went back and forth about the travel dates. Ultimately, we decided to return on the 12th instead of the 13th for no other reason than it was cheaper at Disney to leave on Wednesday. Along with all of western new York, I was shocked, stunned and saddened. And then I realized how close we were to possibly being a statistic.
I know about all the statistics that say it's safer to fly than drive. But I think I have a better chance of walking away from a car crash than a plane crash. Anyway, this isn't meant to be a debate or defense, I'm just sharing my experiences. And given my track record for incidents involving planes, really, are you going to argue with me?
So when I said I'd fly down to Florida, everyone was pretty stunned. I figured a nice, short flight would be good practice for me because I want to travel out west next year for a friend's graduation. Plus I would call my doctor for a prescription for Xanax. I've heard they can really help with severe anxiety. I've never taken them, myself.
Here's where you get to have a good laugh at me. I had a good laugh at me.
Today, I was looking up flight times, and trying to find a nonstop flight that wasn't oh GOD early. I found one that didn't leave too early, was nonstop, and got to Florida at a good time. Then the funniest thing happened. I was having a hard time breathing. My heart was pounding so hard, I could see my shirt fluttering. My chest felt heavy and constricted. The harder I tried to book the flight, the worse I felt. Then I realized, I was having a PANIC ATTACK. A full-blown, all-in-my-head, heart attack symptom PANIC ATTACK. Really. Really? Seriously? Trying to book the gosh-darn flight sent me into a panic attack. A panic attack!
I've never had a panic attack before. Ever. I've been scared, and nervous, but never have I dealt with this before. My sincere sympathy to those of you who have these more than once. There is no “suck it up” or “get it over it”. You're paralyzed, sort of. It's a very odd sensation to describe.
I guess my flying days are over, unless you make the plans without my knowledge, drug me, and load me into the aircraft.
I've become Mr. T.
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