My First Flight
Last week as I fearfully typed my post about my grandmother’s death clock, I thought about my upcoming flight. I had never been on a plane before and my grandmother’s clock is never wrong: it’s chiming always signals the death of a family member, so to say I was nervous would be an understatement.
Not only was this my first time aboard a plane with the death clock’s prophecy hanging over me, but I was also scheduled to board four planes in only two days. Still, I swallowed my fear and boarded my first flight: Little Rock, Arkansas to Dallas, Texas.
Leaving for Dallas
Once we found our gate in the terminal, I began to feel pretty excited. I told my husband, “this reminds me of Home Alone with all the people rushing around.” He just laughed and said, “It’s really nothing like the movies.” He was right; my excitement faded–no, actually it turned tail and ran once I got on the plane. It was hot; it was crowded, and there were no exits. I always take notice of the exits when I go someplace, and I did notice the emergency exits, but there was no way I could go running to those. I began to feel claustrophobic and panicky. So, to combat those feelings, I turned my vent up as high as it would go, and I closed my eyes and told myself I was riding a bus down 167 South for the entire 1 hour flight, well, until the woman next to me tossed her cookies in a plastic bag. Ironically, her sickness kind of lightened the mood. I told my husband that I honestly thought it’d be me.
This first flight had me anxiously waiting for the next three; I was even more terrified than before. However at our layover in Dallas, I found some Dramamine which helped me get through my other flights. The second flight I slept through, which was probably caused by a combination of the Dramamine and being exhausted from getting up a 4:30 a.m. to make our first flight. By the third and fourth flights I felt like an old pro. I was used to the crowds and the stuffiness, and I had chewing gum to help with my ears popping, and of course, I had my Dramamine. However, by this time I was confident enough to use the non-drowsy kind. I even had the chance to snap a few pictures with my husband.
I also discovered one of the pros to sitting in the middle seat–the air conditioning. No matter how those on the isle and window seating position their vents, the middle-seat passenger can always feel three times the cool air. Since I often sleep with a fan, this has a calming affect on me.
So armed with my tricks, I was able to survive all four flights and gain some new experience in the process. While the first two flights were kind of tough, the second two were easy-peasy.
Of course, it also helped when my mom called me to tell me that the possessed clock had stopped its chiming. My cat died. Apparently, after losing 6 of her lives and getting run over by a car twice, her time was up.
My cat, Poop
Like I said, the clock has never been wrong, and now it’s four-for-four. While I was sad to hear about my cat, it was something that we all expected; she was a twenty-three-year-old cat after all. Still, knowing that the death clock had ceased its tolling probably had a lot to do with my increase in confidence on the flights home.
