This week we’ve spent it in California. The trip started a little rough with a 4:30am wake up call on Monday morning and my getting sick at the start of our 5 hour flight.
I’ll have you know, I never get sick on an airplane, so this was a new experience for me. Remember when you were a little kid and you ran around and around and around, forgetting to drink anything for hours and then all of a sudden you would break out in a sweat and want to collapse to stop from throwing up? That’s exactly how I felt 20 minutes into our 5 hour flight.
Sweating bullets and stripping all the clothing possible, I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. A few glasses of ginger ale later, I was feeling much better, but the rest of my flight was tainted with the possibility of potentially lurching that felt just around the corner. It sucked, to say the least.
The thing is, I’m no stranger to flying. I’ve at least taken as many flights as I am old, if not close to double that amount. So I find it extremely odd I got sick and it didn’t stop there, with chills hitting me later that evening while I slept under two super heavy blankets. I was not feeling much better in the evening. The only thing we could attribute it to was possible dehydration.
Days following, I was still not feeling 100%. Upset stomach, false alarm on a sore throat, nothing settling well, it hasn’t been the best of trips food-wise. If anything I feel old.
And baby girl? She did just fine.
As far as all the traveling, I’ve spent the majority of my time in the back seat of a Scion with baby girl. Fortunately, they’re quite roomy, so I only experienced the claustrophobic-ness I felt while on the plane once.
Hoping the trip back to Georgia is much less eventful.
