I have Crohn’s Colitis, so trust me, the idea of fluctuating illness? I totally get that.
With my “midair miracle,” I had to fly from Ft Lauderdale to Orlando. On my first flight (Connecticut to Florida), I got horribly, horribly sick. I think food poisoning made worse by the IBD. I spent most of the flight laying in the back row by the bathrooms. I was in and out, seriously, every 10 minutes the whole flight. When we landed, I got a wheelchair and sat by the bathrooms while my husband bought every version of Pepto, Imodium, and anything GI related. Liquid. Chewable. Sublingual. He spent $50 on meds to try and get me through the 30-45 minute flight.
By the time my puddle jumper flight was getting ready to board, things had slowed down, but I wasn’t feeling great. I was loaded first so I could be right by the bathroom. When I was seated and the flight attendant told me I couldn’t get up after the plane left the gate until 15 minutes in-air and I couldn’t leave my seat “no matter what” 15 minutes before landing and until the plane was at the gate (on a 45ish minute flight), I cried. I prayed the whole flight and by the blessing of God, I was holding it together...
Until the plane was like 5 minutes from landing. I needed to get up, but I couldn’t. Then the flight attendants said that if we were wheeled in, we had to be wheeled out... And the wheelchairs weren’t at the gate so we’d have to wait until the plane had emptied.
Um, nope.
I told the attendants I didn’t need it, I couldn’t wait, I was going to get up, I was scolded. Front bathroom after the seatbelt sign went off and then wheelchair. That’s all I could do. Getting sick trapped in that little room as an entire plane marched by? I’m sorry, the chances of Walt Disney meeting us at the gate was higher than the chances of me doing that. I know Orlando airport like the back of my hand and knew EXACTLY where the bathroom was (I have IBD... I know where every bathroom is...)... I told my husband to take my stuff, I was going to make a run for the door when they turned off the seatbelt sign.
That sign went off and I sprinted like there was money to be had for the first person off the plane. I was out that door, up the jetway, hard left to the bathroom, cut the whole line of people waiting and DOVE into a stall in less than 45 seconds. The only thing missing was the dust cloud and skidmarks like the Road Runner leaves when he takes off.
My husband eventually caught up, but apparently he got a full scolding from the flight attendants for my behavior.
Then, a week or two later, I read an article about “midair miracles,” including an experience on the writer’s trip to Disney World where he and his poor family struggled to wait in line, board, find a seat, had to sit in the back, and get through the flight, meanwhile, he walked by an able bodied woman in her 20s who was on deaths door when the flight loaded... She came in on a wheelchair and was the first on in the best seat by the front, but “quite literally ran off the plane when it landed.” He write I was probably already in the parks and having a blast while he and the children the park was built for we’re still stuck on the plane. And I probably feigned illness to get on the rides first too.
I’m sympathetic since I know how it looked and I know how hard traveling with kids is... But the only midair miracle that occurred was that I didn’t embarrass myself on the plane. But I read that and showed it to my husband and that, along with other details, has us both convinced he was talking about me.
