Sweden 2010, Day 21 - Homeward bound

I actually woke up about 10 minutes ahead of the alarm at my hotel in Stockholm. I got up, checked emails, took a shower, and got packed. Hammerdal already feels half a world away, which makes me very sad. I wish I could go there more often to be with my band and their families.

My friend Klas picked me up along with one of his coworkers, and they delivered me to the airport. He helped me get checked in, and we shared a cup of coffee and some breakfast at the terminal. Then it was time for me to head in to the gate.

There had been a problem when I originally booked this flight. I used Orbitz, and for some reason, I was not permitted to choose my seat during that process; in fact, I was assigned a seat when I checked in online that made my blood run cold. 22E.

Folks, I get severe motion sickness on planes. I have tried every med known to man, and nothing abates it. Dramamine works on boats, but not on planes. I have taken to just knocking myself out with Valium when I fly. However this is not always an option, due to my determination not to suffer jetlag. The only and I mean ONLY thing that stops the motion sickness is being able to lean my head against the side of the plane, in a window seat. The vibration and hum seem to calm my inner ears to the point where flying is tolerable, even pleasant. I don’t have to keep my head there constantly, but as soon as the nausea starts, I need to be able to use this trick to force it into retreat.

The flight was oversold. I told my story to the gate agent and she was very sympathetic, telling me she could not make any promises but she would do her very best to help me, as well as alert the cabin crew that there would be a passenger prone to illness on the flight. She came through, and I was given 25A at the window.

Have any of you ever been stuck on a long flight with the seatmate from hell? Well today was my turn. This guy was either Russian or Swedish, in his mid-seventies, smelled bad, and drank non-stop. He “slept” a few times, leaning over in my direction and landing on my boob, and his elbow would “slip” off the armrest directly into my crotch. His English was heavily accented and limited to “now we are friends” and “is very good, very good.” CREEPY.

I typically dehydrate myself somewhat in the 12 hours before air travel so I do not have to hop up and down to the lav. Well 8 hours is a pretty long flight and finally I just had to get up to pee. I left the safety of my window seat, and got in the queue for the lav. It was quite long. The air was also very hot. After a few minutes of waiting, I started to feel it… the light-headedness, the queasiness, sweating, and general discomfort. By now there were 6 people in line behind me and at least 12 ahead of me. Then the plane hit some bumpy air and that was it for me.

I felt my stomach begin to rise in my throat. I got dizzy and could barely keep my balance. I dug my thumbnail of the right hand deep into the flesh of my left hand, trying to control the nausea with intense pain. I began to hyperventilate. Another passenger saw my distress, grabbed me, and ran me to the head of the line, knocking other passengers out of the way, and shoved me into the lav just as someone exited. Just in time. The heaving was horrible and intense. A few minutes later, the worst of it has passed, and I just lay there groaning.

A sharp knock on the lav door was a flight attendant checking on me. I cleaned up and came out so see her very worried face in front of me. She put her arm around me and led me quivering back to my seat. Next thing I knew, she had an oxygen tank and mask, and insisted that I use it. I was so embarrassed, but she told me there is at least one passenger on every flight that suffers like this, and oxygen was required by their policy; plus it works! I acquiesced to her request, leaned my head against the window, and started breathing deeply. Within 5 minutes the sick feeling had passed. No idea whether it was the O2 or the vibration.

I felt much better when we landed, and had some time to kill in Chicago, so I went to fill the stomach I had to violently voided a few hours before. Chili’s was good… had a pork sandwich and a beer and all was right with the world once again. I made a bunch of phone calls and then headed to my next flight, which thankfully, was a window seat. I vowed to not get out of it no matter how bad I had to pee.

Our pilot touched down in the San Diego soup right on time. My feet hit home turf at 5:50pm. I gathered my bag and got picked up by my sweetie… damn it was good to see him. Things are still very new with him, but looking promising. He took me out to Seau’s for dinner – blackened salmon salad! – then over to Yuki’s to pick up my car.

It was awesome to see her again, and my kitties!!!! Pixel was holding court on top of a stereo speaker, but as usual, Nemo was hiding under the bed. We shared a glass of champagne, then I headed home. My sweetie hung out with me for a bit, but we were both incredibly exhausted, so he left for home and I headed for bed. I did not even unpack. By the time I turned off the light and began to drift, I had been awake for 25 hours.

My dreams were of Sweden, and cats in funny dresses.