You have all heard of my terrible fear of flying. And how I have determined to never let that fear stop me from going places with and for my family . In 2008 I flew three times. Across the country each time. For somebody who is afraid to fly, I think that's pretty impressive. I have tried many, many techniques to manage my fear and nothing really works. And sadly, the more I fly, the more fearful I get. It's really, really strange.
One thing I have learned is that if I am well-rested I do a much better job of keeping my fear under control. In fact, when I recently flew to Florida after Christmas, I made it the whole way there without medication. I was nervous and at times fearful. But I managed it. I even looked out the window as we landed in Tampa. That is huge for me. Huge. I was so happy that I didn't have to take any medicine. I thought maybe I had turned a page in this whole scary novel.
The return trip home however, was another story.
I wasn't as rested when we left for home. Due to the fact that we went to bed at midnight and got up at 4 a.m. to make it to the airport in time for our flight.
Note to self: Never schedule anymore early morning flights.
The plane began to bump around. The pilot announced we would have a rough flight. The fear began to take root and grow. And I wasn't managing it well at all. So mid-flight, somewhere between Tampa and Chicago, I took one of my prescription pills. A very common prescription that many people take without many side affects. But not me. Oh no. Not me.
First of all it makes me laugh.
Hysterically.
My family knows the symptoms well. As soon as they hear the first giggles my daughters know it's time for fun. They start saying things that they know will make it worse.
The brats. My husband on the other hand is very protective. And he makes them leave me alone.
Thank you honey.
I also have a hard time walking a straight line. So after sitting for a couple of hours on the plane, when it's time to get up, I tend to wobble all over the place. My husband escorts me down the aisle and through the cold tunnel into the airport. That's what happened this time too. And as we approached a bookstore in the airport my husband says I stopped dead in my tracks, pointed at a copy of Knit Two, and said:
"I WANT THAT BOOK!"
Hubby: "Okay Honey."
Me: "I WANT THAT BOOK RIGHT NOW! I read the first one and I need this one."
Hubby: "Let's go sit down first. We can get the book later."
Apparently that's what we did. For a while. It wasn't long though before I looked at my husband and said:
"I WANT THAT BOOK!"
Hubby: "You still want that book?"
Me: "Are you telling me I can't have that book?"
Hubby: "I'll go get it."
And he left me in my mother-in-law's care and went and paid $27 for a book. You need to know that I never would pay $27 for a book if I were in my right mind. And my husband wouldn't pay $27 for a book if I was in my right mind either.
Later on, after the medication had somewhat worn off, I looked on the table beside my chair and exclaimed:
"Oh Look! I've been wanting this book for a long time!" "Where did I get this book?"
My husband just rolled his eyes. And my girls split their sides laughing at me. I have no memory of any of this. For all I know this never happened.
Except that there is indeed a hardback copy of Knit Two sitting on my night stand right now.
Clearly I need to find a new medication or else remember to schedule future trips around the release dates of books I want to read.