Having recently traveled by plane already this year, I have to congratulate myself for being such a calm traveler, despite my traumatic experiences at airports. Although internally, I am a knot of anxiety, outwardly I am calm. The picture of serenity.
Local Television news has nightly warnings about airline travel for the remainder of the year. . . . . and probably forever!. . . that security lines will be long and timely. What's new? I don't think I've ever cruised through a TSA line in under 1 hour and now that its 2 hours plus long, well, I guess you'd better go to the bathroom, eat lunch and hydrate just before getting into the line. Once you're in it you're committed!
Each time I'm getting ready to fly, I relive each bad experience and pray that I'm done with them and can fly in peace. Actually, only three of my nightmares happened on the plane, and the rest during pre-boarding and TSA lines. (This is when I could use a handful of anti anxiety meds.)
Very, very, fortunately, I have never been in a crash landing or in a hostile situation.
Preparing for more air travel in the coming months, I try to think positively about how to avoid airport problems. Some just are not preventable. Example. . . . .
I run to the restroom just before boarding the plane. I've got 5 minutes, tops. The plane has begun to board.
In the bathroom stall next to me, a girl is vomiting and wretching. Poor thing. Hope she is done with her trip and send her sympathetic thoughts.
I open my stall door and the girl is just coming out, turns around to return to the toilet, but vomits all over my feet and floor. Of course, I'm wearing sandals. I am dumbfounded. I hear my plane is closing its doors imminently. Last call. Running out of time! The bathroom attendant is right there STAT with a mop.
She says, "Oh, hun. You been dirtied! Let me help you with that."
Grateful and thinking something the opposite from what happened next, she takes her floor mop, dunks it in the nasty bucket water used to mop up unmentionable nastiness, and proceeds to mop my feet. I am stunned. The horror of this ultimate contamination is inconceivable! Gagging, I push her away, and stumble to the sinks to wash my feet but I'm now hearing "doors closing, last call" for my plane.
No time for a foot bath or shoe sanitization. I spot the paper towel dispenser and start waving my hands in front of it until I have a 5 foot strip. Run out of the bathroom for my flight trailing the paper towel like a white banner behind me.
Mr.Man hadn't boarded the plane without me but was seriously pacing as I ran up to the gate. We find our seats, buckle in and I remove my sandals to begin the cleanup process. Mr. Man shakes his head at me and says, "Why does this stuff always happen to you?"
Heck! I don't know, but the only solution is to amputate my feet, burn the shoes and hyperventilate. None of these options were viable so I cleaned up using my $4 bottle of water and my flimsy paper towel banner. I asked the flight attendant for a case of Handi-wipes, then fretted about the germs crawling up my legs and soaking into my skin.
Obviously, I survived . This wasn't my first vomit encounter on feet, ( I am a pediatric nurse for cryin' out loud), but before I had actual shoes and socks on, with access to a shower and clean clothes! I tried my best to keep my toes spread apart so they wouldn't touch the others until my feet cramped up. A nice foot bath would have been nice. Do they offer those in first class?
Oh the woes of travel. These little side adventures just keep it quirky and fun, right? Now I carry extra shoes, baby wipes and hand sanitizer in my carry on. The sandals were tossed in the trash as soon as I accessed my second pair . I kept the feet.
Use this as a cautionary tale. Get to the airport early. A whole lot early.
You never know what will happen before your seated on the plane.
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