Wow that was the worst flight I’ve ever had.
The 10-hour flight from Japan to L.A. was the worst flying experience I have ever had the misfortune to have. I’ve always been bad with planes. Usually, the pressure is really bad on my ears (which don’t like to pop like they’re supposed to) and I always feel a bit queasy.
But on this venture, I could only sleep for about 2-3 hours really? The other time was spent feeling the worst nausea ever. It felt like the pressure couldn’t equilibrate in my lungs right, so it was really hard to breathe. Every time I exhaled, it felt like I was going to hurl out all my insides too. So of course I couldn’t eat anything, which was a shame, the food looked pretty good.
For some reason, in the last 10 minutes as the plane was landing, I got hit by a weird anxiety attack. I was semi-hyperventilating and crying and shivering really really bad. I waited until the plane had mostly cleared before I dared to move and grab my stuff, but then as I walked to the door of the plane, I just collapsed. The outside air hit me and it was too much? I dunno.
They got me a wheelchair and smelling oils and mints and hot towels, and then I was wheelchaired by a nice man named Sam all the way through customs, baggage claim, baggage re-check, security, all the way to my connecting gate. And I still wasn’t feeling better.
As I was waiting for my connecting flight, I decided to try and go make myself throw up to see if that would make me feel any better. I asked the lady next to me to watch my stuff while I went to the bathroom because of my nausea, and then I went, but I couldn’t muster up the strength to even make myself vomit. This is all a very pleasant story I know.
By the time I get back, she’s waiting for me with a bottle of Sprite mixed with bitters. Turns out she’s a nurse, so she mixed up this drought for me to help me feel better. I thank her profusely, and she goes to get on her next flight. I sip at my drink, and it does help the nausea. Problem is, then I got fever chills. It’s nearly 70 degrees in Los Angeles, and I’m sitting in the terminal with a heavy overcoat, a muffler, shivering my ass off. I keep passing out into sleep and waking up with a start, thinking, OH GOD DID I MISS MY CONNECTING FLIGHT?!?!
Eventually, I get on the plane, and as soon as I hit my seat, I just conk out. Nothing can rouse me. I wake up again only when the plane lands in Seattle 2.5 hours later. When I woke up, I was still feeling weak, but much, MUCH better. The nausea was nearly gone, and the pressure had more or less resolved itself in my ears. I make my way to the baggage claim, get my things, get picked up by Rachel, tell her my horrible story…
Then we go and pick up Brian, go out for dinner (I had a smoothie and some fries), I go home, try to stay awake a little longer, but end up going to bed around… 1 AM? Still woke up at the ass crack of dawn.
But I’m hooooome~!!!
I’m pre-jetlagging myself?
It’s 5 AM and I’m awake. I only slept 4 hours. My plane leaves at 6:50 PM. WHY.
St. Patricks’ Day parade in Omotesando. All of a sudden, Harajuku is filled with green clovers, people dressed as leprechauns, and drunk Irishmen. Seriously, where were you all hiding???
Yesterday was actually roommate’s birthday, so when she got home at like… midnight(?) we decided to go out to an Izakaya, get some drinks, food, you know, and have a night out. It was pretty fun, good relaxing atmosphere, good food… :> I’m glad I had Miriam as my roommate since she was so nice and friendly and willing to spend time together.
Today, being my last day, I went to Softbank and canceled my cell phone contract, threw money at them, had lunch with my friend Yoshie, walked around… there’s a St. Patrick’s Day Parade in Omotesando and there’s drunk people everywhere and it’s crowded as shit. Can’t walk anywhere really. Well, not without taking an inordinate amount of time. pffft.
Miriam will come home later, we’ll take purikura together, I will try to treat her to some dinner (she refuses to let me pay for anything though)… and then tomorrow I fly out. Legit. It’s time to go home.
Will probably update tomorrow from the airport, assuming wifi is anywhere to be found.
You know that jumpy, unsettled feeling you get a few days before you get on an international flight to go home? Because it’s a trip you’ve been looking forward to for months? And you’ve packed everything a week in advance and are finalizing your luggage even now even though there’s 3 whole days left? And you’ve planned to arrive at the airport literally 5+ hours before your departure time? And all you can really think about is that feeling of relief you’ll have once you’re home and you can finally relax because you’ve been nothing but stressed and mildly uncomfortable for 5 months?