It's not quite seven in the morning, California time, and I've been up since 4:30 this morning. I am quite jet-lagged.
There must be something about Hugo and planes these days. When my fiancee and I flew home from Colombia in August, I was sick most of the way. Yesterday, I was fine when I boarded the Virgin flight at Heathrow, but by the time we were two hours into the flight, I was making regular visits to the lavatory to worship on my knees. After a while, I got so tired that I simply used the airsickness bags, as I was unable to leave my seat. Fortunately for my fellow travelers, I had a bulkhead row to myself! I was cared for by very solicitous flight attendants (one kind gal in particular had a thick Geordie accent that reminded me of my time doing research up in the delightful grimness of northeast England.) I couldn't keep anything down, not even ginger ale, and was so weak by the time we landed that I needed to be taken off the plane in a wheelchair. (Note: those in wheelchairs go to the front of the immigration and customs lines at LAX).
The wheelchair was pushed by a very friendly middle-aged woman who spoke little English. At baggage claim, I made several feeble efforts to reclaim my own suitcases. She pushed me gently back into the chair, and dealt with my bags. Talk about your gender issues! To sit passively while an older woman wrestled my suitcases off the carousel was almost as painful as the constant nausea. I have to admit, I was wondering what everyone else was thinking -- I had looked perfectly healthy getting on the plane, and now was white as a sheet, unable to stand or care for myself.
I am happy to report that chicken broth does wonders. My beloved brought me home, fed me soup and crackers, and put me to bed. (I did have some playtime with Matilde the chinchilla; she was especially loving. It's remarkable how even the humblest of animals know when their guardians are ill.) In any event, I got six hours of sleep and feel much better this morning. I'll take the day off from running and working out, and with luck, be back to a "normal" schedule tomorrow.
I am looking forward to getting back to blogging. I note that my post below on "How Men Attack" has had over 330 comments as of this morning; I'll see if I can weigh in a bit on men's issues once I feel a bit more human.
welcome back! sorry to hear you were sick during the flight...
Posted by: elaine | January 05, 2005 at 07:51 AM
I echo Elaine's sentiments above, and add that I was sick _for_ you, post-Holiday Bowl. :(
Posted by: JM | January 05, 2005 at 08:27 AM
I'll bet your fellow passengers were thinking, "hope I don't catch whatever he has!"
Posted by: La Lubu | January 05, 2005 at 08:28 AM
How awful and embarrassing Hugo, i'm so sorry! Ever read the hot zone? Glad your back, we missed you!
Posted by: kelly | January 05, 2005 at 08:47 AM
Yes, Hugo withdrawal was not fun. Happy New Year, welcome back and feel better!
Chinchillas the humblest of animals? You can't mean that, lol.
Posted by: annika | January 05, 2005 at 09:23 AM
Oh, Annika, I mean humble in the sense of self-effacing. As you imply, chins are rodent royalty -- but with a remarkable sense of noblesse oblige.
Posted by: Hugo Schwyzer | January 05, 2005 at 09:30 AM
Dramamine, Hugo! Now over-the-counter. Some Asians swear by raw ginger. Of course, none of that is going to help if it was food-borne illness and not motion sickness.
Posted by: NancyP | January 05, 2005 at 09:41 AM
My quite non-asian sister-in-law is a devotee of ginger pills, too. You don't even have to taste ginger, apparently.
Posted by: Jonathan Dresner | January 06, 2005 at 02:27 AM