So I have to go on an airplane in a couple of weeks, and I am totally freaking out about it.
Because despite the fact that yes, I KNOW it’s 2011, and we have left all the magical, superstitious thinking of the Dark Ages behind us, and now worship the god of science (well-SOME of us do. Others of us, we still kind of like it back there), I do not believe that planes can actually fly. I believe that it is all a giant illusion, and that the illusion could burst at any moment-PROBABLY a moment when I’m on a plane-but I don’t know what might damage this illusion, so I don’t know what to do or what not to do to ensure that my plane doesn’t fall out of the sky while I’m on it.
So airplane travel is just a tiny bit stressful for me.
And yes, all you Science People, I can hear you all out there gearing up your three-dimensional, interactive presentations to explain why, yuh-huh, it does TOO work, but let me remind you that I am married to an engineer. And even he doesn’t try anymore. Because if it were just a matter of more information and having something explained to me in a different way, I would not still be having this problem.
I’m also concerned because this will be the first time I’ve flown since I got sick, and I don’t know how or if it will affect my fibromyalgia. So when I had my latest appointment with my fibro doctor, I decided to bring this up (read as: desperately beg for reassurance that I will be all right)
So when I asked him if flying might cause me to have a flare-up, he said (and I SWEAR I am not making this up): “Well, an airplane is a pressurized tube.”
And I thought, “Huh-that doesn’t actually help me at all.”
(All right, I confess-the first thing I actually thought was, “Wow-that sounds really dirty!”)
But I was really confused, because that didn’t really seem to me to be an actual answer. So then I wondered if it was maybe some kind of Zen thing, like when I went to the acupuncture guy and I asked if he was going to try to get me to stop taking my medicines, and he said, “No one tell you stop. No one tell you continue. You follow path that unfold for you.”
So then Fibro Doctor continued, “…so unless air somehow gets into the cabin, you shouldn’t have any problems.”
Now, see what he did there? I was so SO close to feeling reassured, but then, perhaps in an effort to “touch all the bases”, he tried to reassure me by referencing the possible sudden loss of cabin pressure. Which would most likely occur as a result of an equipment failure or something blowing out a window (the horrible causes of which are too numerous to list here). Which would mean that the plane was crashing. In which case, I wouldn’t give a crap about my fibromyalgia pain.
Now I L-O-V-E my fibro doctor. Because besides being a really fantastic doctor, he is also a really cool person. Like, part of me wishes he weren’t my doctor so that we could hang out and I could invite him to all my parties. (If I ever gave any. Which I don’t. Because I am a cranky hermit. But that’s an issue for another day.)
But I think that doctors lately are so concerned with giving us a complete and truthful answer, that my doctors at least are overinformationing me. I mean, I appreciate the fact that you are trying to educate me and help me take responsibility for my own health care, but I don’t always need to know the worst possible thing that any given condition might be. Really-there are times when it’s okay to hold some stuff back. I promise I won’t be mad.
So I guess this has really just been a very long way of saying that despite my many attempts to be reassured, I guess I won’t actually know what will happen until I’m there, on the plane, in the air. And yeah, so that’ll just fold right into my super-relaxed personality as an anal-retentive, obsessive-compulsive, manically-tendencied, graspy, controlling first-born. Sure. No problems there.