I know a lot of people do when they fly.
There are those who hate take off and grip the hand of the stranger next to them. Those who get all sweaty during landing. Those that have to close their eyes. Those that won't touch the tray. Those who won't check their bags. Those that are worried about getting sucked down the airplane toilet.
Yeah, I know a lot of people have issues with flying.
I don't have any of those issues.
I am completely fine with the concept of getting in a several ton piece of metal and being catapulted through the air. That is cool with me.
For me, my irrational fear is all about what happens before you take off or after you land.
I have realized I am afraid of being on that plane that gets held up on the runway for 14 hours. And they stop giving you water. And there are no snacks. And it's hot. And it smells. And I am sweating. And I run out of diapers. And have screaming children. And everyone is giving me "that look" because I am the parent with the three screaming children, one of whom is probably in a dirty diaper, and two of whom desperately need to go to the bathroom, but we can't because we are sitting still on the runway and it might be terribly dangerous for us to stand up and air marshals would take us down if we tried.
Yes, my irrational fear of flying is that we'd be on that plane.
Have I mentioned that I am flying solo with the kids to Mexico tomorrow?
How do I overcome my fear? I way overpack. I take 15 diapers for a four-hour flight. I bring enough granola bars to feed the plane. I buy more cheap toys and cards and games than my kids get at Christmas. I bring changes of clothes for everyone. I bring 12 movies. I come prepared.
But just in case you happen to hear that horrible story over the weekend that there is a plane that has been stuck on the ground for 14 hours with all the passengers on board and you just know it's my plane, can you help me out?
Call them and tell them there is a slightly irrational lady on board who was worried about just this. That she is running out of granola bars and diapers. That no one really wants to hear how loud her kids can scream. That she knows people in the news media and is great at talking in sound bites. And, at the very least, could they please bring a gin and tonic to seat 26A?
Thank you. Anxiety attack over.
