Soooo... last Wednesday I boarded a plane and flew to Louisiana to spend a week with my friend Melissa. I am having a great time... but I have to admit that I'm having a little bit of anxiety about getting back on a plane in a few days because the trip down here was straight up awful.
Motion sickness has always been a part of my life. I sometimes pass on trips because I know that if I don't sit in the front I will get sick... and I hate that I always have to ask to sit in the front so I just opt out.
I can't do roller coasters or other rides that so many people love and enjoy. I can't swing on swings. And don't even get me started on those IMAX theaters! Oh... and my poor kids! I often have to say things like "stop spinning! You are making me sick!"
My life is limited because of motion sickness... and I hate it!
I don't usually have too much trouble with flying as long as I take precautions like making sure I have my seabands and motion-ease. After discovering those two things I've been able to make trips without having to take dramamine.
But this last flight... I thought I was going to DIE! My first flight wasn't too bad but I was happy to be on the ground with a short layover. My head wasn't feeling the greatest so I actually took some dramamine and hoped it would help.
The second flight was on a small plane and we had rough air almost the entire two hours. Half way through that flight I lost it. I was puking my guts out into the little barf bag that the airline nicely supplies for you in the seat pocket.
So there I was... leaning toward the window, bent over, trying to hide and feeling totally embarrassed as I lost my stomach when the kind man beside me realized what was happening and saved this damsel in distress. He didn't ask questions... he just went into action.
He first reached over and said "I'm just going to take your glasses and get them out of the way." Then he handed me a plastic bag to put my barf bag in so that I had a larger target area. I told him I had tissues in my purse and asked him to please get them but he did one better and told me he had Wet Ones. He got the flight attendant's attention and she brought me some cold, wet paper towels... which the man took and started wiping my forehead with. He then said "I'm just going to get up for a moment to put my laptop away so that I can help you."
For the next hour he did just that... he helped me. He was not grossed out (as I would have been) or concerned with germs. He was very fatherly and gave me his full attention. When the second round of puking came... dry heaves because everything in my stomach had already left me... he put his hand on my back to comfort me until it had passed and then began again with the Wet Ones and wiping my forehead while I recovered.
And again for the third round as the wheels touched down in Baton Rouge. He stayed with me while everyone else got off the plane and then helped with my bags... even though he had to be at a meeting to give a presentation in an hour and his ride was waiting for him. He simply said "they can wait."
I never even got the man's name... all I know is that he is a retired physician and I am sooo thankful that it was someone like him instead of someone like me sitting in the seat next to me. I can't even handle it when my kids puke so I probably would have not done too well with a stranger puking.
The flight was awful but it was made a little more bearable by the above-and-beyond kindness of a complete stranger. He was my Good Samaritan and I look forward to a time that I can pay the favor forward.
(I would appreciate prayers for my flight home on Tuesday. I'm terrified at the thought of having a repeat.)