air. sick.

these two little words say so much. what do they say, you ask? well, to me it sums up three days of my life. now, three days may not seem like a lot, but in the grand scheme, they aren't and they are. three days, 72 hours . . .

air - it took me 11 hours to get home on sunday. i was supposed to leave lubbock, tx. at 1:30 pm. i didn't leave until almost 3. had it been a straight shot home it wouldn't have been so bad, but missing one plane then set off a horrible chain reaction that included missing other planes, having to get my bags and re-check in, and in general spend more time than i would like with other smelly, tired travellers.

in the beginning my thoughts were, "no big deal, there's no need to get anxious; what would that help anyway." that was the zoloft talking! but, upon arrival in houston, zoloft ideals flew out the window. the air conditioner had to have been broken, because it was at least 80 degrees in the airport, and there was construction everywhere. i haven't told what i was traveling in, because it did not become an issue until this point in time. i was wearing, and it was fabulous, this gorgeous dress my mom had sent me from europe. it was flowy and colorful and it clung to me like saran wrap! (that was not a good thing) i was wearing my tall brown high-heel boots, no pantyhose, and a poncho. well, in the heat, i started to get what, in my family, we call the "vacation walk". this walk occurs when your thighs rub together too much and chafe. it is not pleasant, and there was no way to get air to the region to be able stop it from happening. so there i am, in the houston airport sweating and trying to walk in a way that my thighs won't rub together (real women's thighs touch. i am sure of this).

i had to walk to the ticket counter and stand for what seemed like an hour but was really only 55 minutes, to have the ticket agent, aka satan, tell me that i had to walk to gate 45 in terminal "c". i happened to be in terminal "a" at the time. oh yes, and i only had 15 minutes to get there to get on the flight. so, now i am running in my dress, boots, rubbing thighs, and carry-ons desperately hoping not to miss the flight. and what should happen when i get there? yup, you guessed it, the flight was delayed 45 minutes!!!!! however, once on the plane with all of the air pointed at me, i was able to rest, relax, and reflect on the more important things in life: the skymall magazine. i made my connection in dallas, which was a God-send (it was only one gate down), and was able to get home, get my bag, and get to my house at 12:15 am.

sick- this is the part that comes after spending 11 hours trying to make it home, and having to get up at 5:45 the same morning to go to work. i have to tell you, my readers, that i very rarely get sick. and when i do get sick, it is awful. it doesn't help that i am a huge baby when i am sick either. i felt bad even before my alarm went off. do any of you have that disease? you know, the one where you wake up two or three minutes before your alarm goes off! i hate it! so, at 5:43 i open one eye and see the time, and all i want is to die. but, i am a trooper. i got up, showered, and got ready and headed off for school. i walked in the doors and wanted to vomit. (no, i am not pregnant!) i go to our wonderful sub mistress and ask her if there is any way that she can get me a substitute for the day because i didn't feel that i would be able to last all day. being the wonderful woman that she is, she scrounged and searched and came up with a wonderful sub. ahh, i got to go home. that was when the real trouble began.

my illness is hard to explain. it was not the flu, because i was not running a fever. i wasn't coughing, nor did i have a runny nose. my problem was, i thought that my back was being broken in two. it didn't matter how i laid or sat or stood up, my back was in constant pain. i have been to the doctor for this before. they have never been able to tell me definitively what it is. they basically just say, "sucks to be you; you just have to suffer." advil and tylenol pm are my comfort during this hour of need. that and crying to my husband about how i want my mommy. my emotional barrier is thin to begin with, but you get me sick, and there is no barrier. the flood gates open and don't close until they are dry and exhausted. this is a compliment to my husband, that he doesn't smother me with a pillow during these times. he figures that it doesn't happen very often, or he would be tempted.

by tuesday, i was able to rest some and start to feel better. i took the day off for good measure. i don't want to risk a relapse! wednesday dawned and i was back at school. piles of papers on my desk and feelings that i was a year behind where i should be. luckily for me there was only one more day of school that week. i know, my life can be very difficult.

looking back at those days, i think, "man! i am a big baby!" i have never been a big one on pain, and try to avoid it all costs. so any pain felt is bad and sends me back to kindergarten wanting my mommy. as for the airports and flying. as my husband will attest, i have horrible luck when traveling alone. so, yes, precious moments of my life were lost, never to be returned. what would i have done with those hours you ask? watched tv, eaten cookies, or slept. so, were they really wasted? i read a good book, reflected on my life, learned to try to have patience, and was able to emotionally empty and then refill myself. all in all, not a total waste.