Planes and Chundering and The Great Pill Debacle

This is the current entry on my wordpress blog, but for anyone who doesn't want to go there (it's fine, no worries!) here is a copy of part of the blog - about my problems at the airport and my travel sickness. Yes, I know, like EVERYONE wants to know about that! But it was a lesson learned!

Before I start, I had a wonderful time, heard some great speakers, and met up with some of my friends - Jess Dee (who writes erotic romance - check out her books if you haven't already!), Lucy (who runs a book shop), Rosalie - so many others. I even met friends I knew on-line but not face-to-face, so that was wonderful!

Now onwards to what happened to me *sniffle*...

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So, last weekend I went to the Australian Romance Readers Convention in Canberra. It was totally awesome!!!!! Met writers, readers, and a host of wonderful volunteers who had the convention up and running so wonderfully. Thank you all!

So, before I talk about The Great Pill Debacle, let’s all start with my fear of flying - mainly that the freakin’ plane will fall out of the sky. My second biggest thing is that I get travel sick - plane, car, bus, doesn’t matter. The only travel I can do without barfing is if I’m driving (and I can’t, you know, drive the plane or bus), so I prefer to drive. Unfortunately, driving the plane was out of the question (BTW, did you know romance author Helene Young pilots a plane?? I knew Susan Grant did, but this makes 2 female authors piloting planes for their ‘day job’. How cool is that?)

Anyway, I forgot to pack travel pills, so I was, understandably, basically crapping my daks that I’d chunder during the flight. But no, all went well from Geraldton to Perth to Melbourne. Then along came the final leg of the journey to Canberra. I’m sitting at the BACK of the friggin’ plane (can you believe it? THE BACK?) and this lovely lady is sitting beside me. I’m going okay - you know, eyes closed, telling myself to breath, it was nearly all over. Then this lovely lady starts to chat to me, and crikey moses, it was Allie Sinclair, fellow author and ARRC attendee! So we chatted and marvelled at the coincidence…and then we hit turbulence.

OMG, I thought my stomach was going to erupt out my mouth. I could feel the heaving of both my gut and the plane, and I’m pretty sure I left my finger marks in the arm-rests of the seat.

I’m not sure what Allie thought - one minute I’m chatting away, the next I’m going rather quiet. This was actually due to me having my lips clamped shut (some workmates would think that was a miracle on its own). I’m positive I went either grey or green - not too sure which - but Allie was just too polite to point that out.

Obviously my Guardian Angel was on my side (or scared I’d chunder over him), because we made it to the tarmac without me hurling over everyone in the plane. I know, you think that’s an exaggeration, but have you ever heard of projectile vomiting? Just think me in the back of a plane plus turbulence and you’ll get the idea.

Allie apparently didn’t take offence at my sudden silence (if you’re reading this Allie, please know I wasn’t suddenly being a stuck up cow, I was just trying not to christen you with digestive juices!! I know, it’s actually rather noble of me…) and we shared a taxi to the hotel.

So this all sounds great. It WAS great. Then I had a taxi driver that thought using his mobile phone one-handed while operating the steering wheel with the other hand was a good idea. I don’t know about his brake systems, but my feet put a hole through his floorboards as I was doing some braking of my own.

To be fair, the other taxi drivers were great - both hands on the wheel at all times!

The weekend was totally awesome, as I said. I also had the presence of mind to buy some travel sick pills from the chemist before heading back in the wide blue yonder. And this leads to:

The Great Pill Debacle!

I read the instructions while sitting at the airport - take 30 minutes before boarding the plane. 30 minutes? Are you kidding me? I have to pee before I board the pane, as I hate using the toilets there (besides, everyone watches you go to the loo door and they KNOW what you’re going to do!), so I decide to take two tablets an hour and a half before the plane takes off. This way I have plenty of time to empty the old bladder at least three times. Man, I am like a dog with a fire hydrant and it’s all my mother’s fault (I tell her this). When we were little, every time we found a toilet she made us go in case there were no other toilets around. Now every time I spot a loo, I have to go. Even if it is 2 drops. Because I’m telling you, if you don’t do those two drops it will be Niagara Falls by the time you sit in the plane and fasten your seat belt. Trust me.

So I take the two pills and kick back to read (I’m a couple of hours early). After awhile I notice that I’m getting really tired. Like, I’m getting REALLY tired. My eyes start to cross and I swear, my right eyelid was almost shut, the left halfway there.

I’m thinking - WTHell? I can hardly keep my eyes open. I drag my eyelids up, peer groggily around, and notice that the floor is starting to lift just a little. A sudden brainwave slugs through my head and I pull the box out, squint tiredly at it and - holy crap! It states ‘THIS TABLET MAY CAUSE DROWSINESS’. You THINK? You freakin’ THINK? It’s not MAY, it HAS! No wonder I can hardly stay awake - I’ve doped myself!!!!!!

If this wasn’t bad enough I suddenly realise how thirsty I am. My mouth is dry, my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I want to drink the river. But I don’t dare to drink too much, because then I’ll need to pee and I refuse to pee on the plane!

So I decide that the best thing to do would be to get up and walk - walk to the loo, walk around. Good plan. God knows how I managed it. I got up, wheeled across the corridor, tried to walk a straight line, and had my head cocked on one side because the freakin’ floor was on an angle. I kid you not, I couldn’t see straight! Staggered down the corridor, wheeled into the toilet block, fell into a cubicle and flopped onto a seat. I don’t know how I managed to stay awake, but I dragged the wet wipes from my bag and scrubbed my face, trying to refresh myself.

Did it work? Seriously? For me? SERIOUSLY?

So I wavered my way back out of the loo (remembering to take a tinkle beforehand), washed my hands, wheeled out of the toilet block and staggered back to my chair. I’m lucky I didn’t fall a**e over t*t as I negotiated the heaving floor.

So, eyeballs practically hanging out of my head, bags under my eyes so big they almost sat on the floor beside my carry-on luggage, and tongue as dry as the Sahara Desert, I waited for the freakin’ flight to be called.

Two cops walked past, and hey, I’m all about a man in uniform. Normally the idea of a pat down to search me for illicit goods would have been fodder for my books (and fuel for my imagination), but right then I thought if they tried, I’d fall at their feet and start snoring and that, folks, would not have been cool. Needless to say, they didn’t notice me sitting in the chair, eyelids drooping, tongue lolling out… As soon as I got on that damned plane, I buckled the seatbelt and shut my eyes. Oh, thank God!!!!! SNOOZEFEST!!!!!

Coincidences being coincidences, at the Perth airport, ready to take the last leg home, I met my boss and the theatre manager also waiting for the plane. Thank God I was recovered by then, because I’m not sure what they would have thought of me staggering around, tongue hanging out, gasping for water and complaining about the upheaval of the floor. And further coincidence, the lady sitting beside me was a midwife from the other hospital in my town!!!! So we had a good gab fest on the way home.