I no longer feel like I'm prematurely dying....

....I just feel like I'm dying a normal rate. ***** please let it be known that I have had this entry in-progress since January 10. I am such a procrastinator, le sigh. Also, I use bad grammar, syntax, whatever it's called. I jump from past to present tense a couple times here... just go with it and enjoy the story*****

I had a cold. It was an icky cold, but totally live-through-able (don't mock my made-up language!). I had the usual, runny/stuffy nose, sore throat, cough, but it wasn't extreme and I had no other effects. I just tried to not breathe on anything or anyone. I carried tissues with me everywhere and I took cold medicine. It took me like 2 weeks to get over it... then I was fine for 1 or 2 days.

Yes, you read that right... just one or two measly little days. wtf cold?! When it came back... I assumed it was the same cold. It started the same way my last one ended, but I stopped taking medicine because I thought "oh, this is the end of the cold, I'll be fine in a day".... that "day" turned into 2 and then it turned into 3 and then I was almost dying on an airplane!


Literally. I thought I was dying.


Okay, you're right... that was an exaggeration. I didn't just think I was dying. I knew I was. And you'll find out how I knew it below...

They called the A group to line up quite a while before they loaded us on the plane. Had I known I would be standing there forever, I wouldn't have left my seat so soon, but as it was I got up, put on my jacket and backpack and wheeled my luggage over to the A 41-45 group section. Then I stood there... and get hot... and got even hotter... and got super hot. I kept thinking they'll call us into the plan, I can take my jacket off, turn the air on above me and be fine... but no. I had already been standing there for a good 15 minutes with people crowded all around me, trying my hardest not to cough or blow my nose so as not to get the evil "omg, you have the black plague, get away from me" look. Finally I decided, screw it, we're not going anywhere anytime soon and I put my hair up in a clip and took my backpack off. That helped a little bit, but not enough. I wanted to take off my jacket. I should have taken off my jacket, but... ... okay, so I was afraid that because I was so hot that I would have sweated in my shirt and I didn't want those around me to see any sweat marks *sigh* Anyway, they finally boarded us and I took a seat some-what close to the front of the plane so I could deboard faster when we got to Oakland. It turned out to be a full flight, but I boarded fairly early on, so I got to sit down, take my jacket off, and let the cool air blow on my face. It was nice... but the niceness left me all too swiftly.

The flight fills quickly and I know it's only a matter of time before someone sits down next to me. I've had some strange experiences with the people who sit next to me (i.e. the guy who fell asleep on me, the 31 year old woman who had a teddy bear and a one of those dead-fish-like handshakes, and the woman who didn't want to put the arm rest down). I didn't see him coming. Had I seen him coming, I might have tried to cough or blow my nose to deter him... maybe even glare menacingly at him. Before I know it, a man appears and as I'm glancing up, I hear the woman sitting in the aisle seat say that no one is sitting between us... The man who takes the seat next to me was wearing a HUGE wool coat... wtf?!?! A wool coat on an airplane! Dude... take that thing off! I've never been on an airplane that was cold... okay... again I lied. The flight from Atlanta to Valdosta in November was cold, but only my feet were cold, my upper body wasn't... anyway, I digress. So I'm already hot. Remember? I took my jacket off when I got to my seat and I opened the vent above me pointing it directly at me... It HAD felt nice... until Mr. HugeWoolCoat sat down.

I couldn't even try to fight for the arm rest. His wool coat was like my kryptonite at that moment. I tried to lean against the window, I fanned myself with my book, I tried to sleep to ignore the heat. I was getting so hot, I even kicked off my shoes. I never take my shoes off on airplanes (I don't know what's been on those airplane floors), but I did this time. I was all over the place in my chair trying to get away from him, but still get the full blast of air from my vent. I can only imagine what the people behind me thought. My hand was over the back of the seat, it was plastered on the wall, it was reaching up every couple minutes to the vent. They must've thought I was crazy. Suddenly, my heat turned to something else. I started to feel nauseous. I had hoped that the feeling would pass, but no... it only grew worse. On top of that, I still had a cold, so I was coughing every now and again. Every time I coughed I thought I was going to throw up right then and there. I frantically searched the seat back in front of me for one of those air sick bags, but there was none. Since when did airlines stop keeping those at each seat?!?! We hadn't even been in the air long enough for the pilot to turn off the seat belt sign. I ordered a ginger ale when the stewardess came around, hoping that I'd get it quickly and it would cool me down and settle my stomach. When the drink finally came, I did feel a little better, which was nice... but it only lasted for a couple seconds. Again, I felt the sensation to vomit. I held it in, but new that I had to get to the restroom and fast. I pushed the steward call button to ask if I could use the restroom even though the seat belt light was still on. About 30 seconds later the seat belt light turned off. Oh, lucky day!! I turned the steward light off, and told Mr. HugeWoolCoat and aisle girl "I'm sorry, but I need to use the restroom." Mr. HugeWoolCoat looked shocked... maybe people he travels with never pee, I don't know... and aisle girl looks annoyed, surely she can see that I'm dying here and will throw up at any second. There is no need for her to give me an evil glare. (Maybe I should have just paused and thrown up on her?) Anyway, the moment I'm standing up in the aisle and away from Mr. HugeWoolCoat, I start to feel better. I'm not feeling normal, mind you, but just a little better. Then I realize that I never put my shoes back on and am now walking down the darkened airplane in my socks with a presumable sweat-soaked shirt. What a mess! (Not even a hot mess... just a mess... that's how bad I felt) Crap! The stewardess is blocking my path to the restroom and doesn't even know that I'm standing behind her trying to pass... argh! It's like the whole plane is working against me!

Finally, I tap her on the shoulder, because clearly she can't hear me whenever I say "excuse me." She moves and I'm home free!!! I practically run/hobble the rest of the way to the restroom. Literally. I even got strange looks from the other two stewards that were busy making beverages at the back of the plane. (You might be wondering why I went to the back of the plane instead of the front restroom when I said that I was seated towards the front... wait, you weren't wondering that until I just pointed out that you should be wondering that? Oh... well... you're wondering it now, so I'll tell you. I am used to sitting towards the back of the plane. I like sitting behind the week and watching the little flap things on the plane during landing, so it was sort've by habit that I started heading that direction... but I also think it was by some divine intervention as well, because I'd only taken 4 steps towards the back when I see a man carrying a young child heading towards the front of the plane to use the restroom... I know this because I turned around while I was waiting for the stewardess to move out of my way and I saw the lavatory light shut off... so there... that's why) I take a look at myself in the mirror and realize I look the same as I always do. I'm a smidgen paler, but not a ton, there are no sweat marks on my shirt, I'm not even that red... I'm not a mess after all... but I still feel like crap.

They have a vent in the restroom too, so I turn that up and aim it at my neck. Ahhh.... If you've ever been in an airplane lavatory, then you know how tiny they are... but to me it felt like my own personal sanctuary for a moment. No wool coats to be found, cool water, tissues, it was amazing. I stayed in there for at least 5 minutes. The other passengers were probably mad at me, but whatever. It was better for us all this way. I some bags that are supposed to be used to toss your "sanitary napkins" away in a sanitary way and figured I could take one and use it as a barf bag if need be. I also splashed water on my face (but not too much, because there is a sign in there saying not to drink the water in there, so I really more like sprinkled water on my cheeks and neck) got a paper towel wet and put it on my neck. I actually started to feel a lot better... nice. So I decide to head out.

I make it back to my seat and I start to feel warm again, but this time I have a cold, wet, paper towel to put on my neck and arms and I feel better. For the rest of the flight, anytime I needed a little refresher I just used the towel. We get to Oakland and as I'm walking towards the outside to meet my sister I recognize the backs of two heads in front of me... I know that I know these people... what are their names? Oh... oh... it's... I play fantasy football with him and his wife is in my mom's sorority... oh man... it's... it's... oh it's Mary? Mary Anne? I don't know there are so many Mary's, Marianne's, Mary Ann's in that sorority I can't keep them all straight. So I tap her on the shoulder and say Mary Anne? And she looks at me and says "It's Mary" and I'm like... Oh, I'm sorry! And I tell her, who I am and say hi to her husband and they tell me that we were just on the same flight! They were visiting their youngest son in San Diego and my mom had told them I was down visiting friends. We say how nice it is to see each other (although truth be told, hardly anyone looks nice after a plane flight) and we go on our ways. I head outside while they head to baggage claim. So... as you may have guessed, I didn't die. Yay! And I didn't throw up either, which is a doubly good thing because 1. that would have ROYALLY sucked, but also 2. I knew people on that flight!

So... after all was said and done, about a week after that flight, I started to feel better cold wise. As of about the 10th, I've started to feel normal again. Even now, as of finally posting this, I still have a stuffy nose and coughs now and again, but I feel worlds better than I did on that flight and the days after. I never felt like throwing up again, never had any aches or pains through this whole cold, it's just been one long cold... which I think has something to do with the dry air from using the heater, and hmm.. maybe we need to change the filters in our heater, that would probably help. Anyways... my point is, I'm not dying quicker than I should be and I feel a lot better. :)