Friday, July 29

Sometimes I even shock myself!

I got to the airport yesterday at 5:45 am. For a normal person that should have been plenty of time to get checked in, a baggage sticker for the single bag that is flying a measly two hours to the next province at 7:00 am. (Not even out of the country) and yet, for some reason for me, it's not.  I'm convinced the universe has returned to it's same old tricks of tormenting and taunting me with it's practical jokes.


I have learned form past trips to dress as humbly as possible. When I dressed pretty for my NY trip I was "randomly selected" for the body scan and pat down. And I no longer wear an underwire bra while flying because of my trip to Winnipeg when one side of my bra set off the metal detector incurring a public trip to second base with an overweight woman from security. So I was dressed in Lulu. Comfortable and no metal.


I arrived at the airport thinking I had plenty of time, so I went to the self check in kiosk (looks like a mini-ATM).   I had my booking reference number that Drew gave me and I typed it in, but I got a message "Sorry.  There is a complication and you need to see a booking agent."


Sigh... I should of known this wouldn't be easy for me.  I kind of laughed to myself and tried again, typing in the booking number and again got the message to contact a booking agent.  By now it's 6am and there is a line a mile long to see a booking agent.  I call Drew, feeling a little guilty because it's really 5am where he is, asking what I should do.  


Sometimes I feel like I should have a handicap sticker attached to my forehead.  I phone Drew and he walks me through self-check in.  Bravo J... one more thing you are pathetic at.  I get my boarding pass but it doesn't punch out a bag sticker.  I'm getting a little annoyed and the time is ticking (it's now 6:11). I ask an airline assistant for help - explaining that I've scanned the boarding pass twice and still haven't gotten a bag sticker and with an obnoxious smile (which I wanted to smack off his face) he says "are you sure you scanned it correctly?" No.  I'm not sure.  I have a hard time with things like this.  But I have two copies of my boarding pass which suggests that I scanned something correctly because it printed a second boarding pass.  So he points me in the direction of the baggage check line which is 2 miles long.


This is the slowest line known to man.  I am starting to sweat a little bit (it's now 6:30) when out of nowhere this same man with the obnoxious smile appears in his now angelic voice that I no longer want to smack the smile off of and asks if anybody has a 7am departure.  I quickly say yes that's me - he parts the crowd like the red sea and magically shuffles me to the front of the line.  Which is where my story takes a horrific turn for the worse.


I get my sticker, put my bag on the belt then all of a sudden I do not feel well while walking to security.  I feel this wash of nausea, my back starts to hurt, my stomach starts to hurt and I can feel myself getting flushed.  I have no idea why this happening, but I don't feel good.  So I make my way over to security; I'm kind of feeling a little dizzy.  Security went pretty quick - it's now 6:37 - because I didn't have much to take off and because I looked like a scab I didn't get randomly selected for anything.  I was heading over to the gate and I need a washroom stat - I really do not feel good - I (as fast as I can) find the woman's restroom and...


***Disclaimer - I apologize to any male readers I have right now - this gets a little feminine.***


This is where the universe confirmed it is playing a sick practical joke on me.  Mother Nature decided she hated me today.  When I went into the restroom I figured out why I felt so horrible... she sent me my monthly gift two days early.  I am none too impressed because I was not prepared for this at all and I have no idea what to do.  I have exactly two minutes to clean up what looks like a CSI homicide scene in stall three - it is now 6:41 - the homicide is cleaned up as best I can - my makeshift toilet paper pad (all woman know exactly what I'm talking about with this) and I have to go quickly find something to drink so I can take some Advil, because I am a hurting unit.  I found something to drink and start heading towards my gate - it is now 6:46 and once again the heaven's open yet this time not to part the red sea but by talking to me...


"This is the last boarding call for guest Joelle (obviously not calling me by my first name).  Please report to gate 49."  ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?  This page goes over the intercom twice.


With a uterus in revolt, an excruciating back, sweaty face and nauseous feeling I am somewhat jogging as fast as I can so as to not lose my makeshift toilet paper pad yet not miss my flight.  What a great start to the day.  When I arrive at gate 49 the woman greets me with a half-smile and directs me down the hallway and says lovingly at the end "Hurry please dear."  I run down the tunnel and out the door still trying to be as careful as possible and trying not to throw up.


I finally make it to the airplane where the stewardess (I mean flight attendant) is greeting me with her teeth clenched and directs me to "SEAT 10D".  When I get into the airplane and scooch down the aisle to 10D, I just want to collapse into my seat.  The guy in the seat beside me is already asleep, so I'm pretty confident I'll be able to rest without any interruption.  Until the stewardess comes over to our seat and informs my flying companion and I that we are in the emergency exit aisle and begins to give instructions on how in case of an emergency landing we are going to be responsible to pull the emergency latch, twist the window on its side when it comes into the plane then throw it out and help others evacuate.  For a brief moment I actually considere asking to be reseated because I thought sure as Sh!t if an emergency landing is going to happen it's going to be today.  Today when I feel like complete crap and have a pretend toilet paper pad in my pants. But... I decide to stay anyway because if we did have to emergency exit Natasha would kick my butt if I passed up that type of blog post.


The flight to Calgary was only an hour long and yet felt like a day because I was in so much pain.  Just before we landed my flying companion woke up a bit and we started to chat.  He introduced himself as Jason but the funny part was he actually slurred when he said Jason (because he was still so drunk) so it came out as Jawson.  He apparently got off work last night and he and some buddies killed the night having too much of a good time.  He made me laugh the entire flight telling me stories of the evening.  He kept me giggling while we waited for all of the passengers to board in Calgary.  When we were ready to take off from Calgary to Kamloops both Jason and I started to smell the funkiest smell - a mix of unchanged diaper and curry and I actually almost threw up.  I had to keep my face covered with my jacket and breath thru it.  I kept saying to myself - I breathed thru twenty blocks in NY before I threw up so I can breath thru this.  Jason dealt with the smell by shoving his fingers up his nose, again keeping me in stitches.


Jason's giggling helped distract me from the gag in the back of my throat.  We both fell asleep for a little bit of the flight to Kamloops but woke up with enough time for him to tell me a few of stories about traveling through Europe (he's also a citizen of the UK), his travels through Australia and New Zealand and Mexico - I actually felt disappointed that our flight wasn't longer.  I actually felt jealous that this man who is clearly the same age as me had all of these stories of travel and adventure.  I could have listened to the stories told from those beautiful eyes for hours longer.  


When we got to Kamloops I waved goodbye to Jason (with a w), got my bag and waited for my ride and continued to feel worse and worse and really hungry.  I ended up waiting for my ride for an additional 32 minutes... not sure if Drew forgot that my plane landed at 9am or if he wanted to increase the anticipation of seeing me.  By the time he arrived I was so hungry and so nauseous and in so much pain that I was desperate for whatever we could find to eat.  A level of desperate that I haven't been in a long time for food.  Hungry and desperate is not a good mix... so this is what hungry and desperate and hemorrhaging gets you.



If you know me at all, seeing that I'm eating McDonalds you know this is a complete sign of insanity and desperation.  After a quick stop to the restroom to change makeshift to actual and picking up my heart attack in a bag from the golden arches, I headed to the beach where I plan to sit for the next five days working on my tan and playing with the kids.

Apparently the universe has resumed laughing at me.  

J

Today:

I am grateful for interesting travelling companions.

I am grateful for beautiful sunny hot weather in BC.

I am grateful for StayFree with wings.  Oh am I ever so grateful.

Oh and lastly I'm grateful that the Calgary airport believes in two ply.

3 comments:

TheRealSlimKatie said...

Yikes!! I do have to giggle... On my Birthday, I had the same sort of "Makeshift" for the same reason... 2 days early!! haha My trip to the Superstore was interesting, to say the least.
Glad you're safe and sound. ♥

Natasha said...

Toilet paper pads? I invented that.

Sorry for your crummy trip but happy for your flight companion.

Talk to you soon, I hope. I'm off in just an hour or so.

Love you.

(My captcha word was actually a word: squid!)

Anonymous said...

A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do! You made the best of a bad situation and still came out smilin'! Remind me to never travel with you though....you have some of the worst 'travel luck' of anyone I know!


Terri