I have posted this before (see here), but I don’t like to fly. About five years ago I randomly developed a fear of flying. I’ve tried numerous methods of dealing with it and still always have some degree of trouble. If given the option I will always drive, but I make myself fly when necessary. This past year flying has gotten much easier. I no longer get anxious during the days leading up to the flight and only have issues during take-off. I do have some medicine and at this point I have been only taking it for one part of the trip (either coming or going). I got cocky and decided to leave the drugs at home for our flight to New Orleans (We are going to New Orleans for the SEC tournament). BIG MISTAKE. For whatever reason this flight was my worst (the flight itself was not bad – for everyone else). Here is Wade’s impression of me during the flight:
About 2/3 of the way through the flight, Wade leaned over and told me (in all seriousness) that I had three options for getting home.
1.) We would rent a car and drive.
2.) We would call my doctor upon landing and get medicine.
3.) I would drink a lot Sunday morning before the flight.
I decided on option 2.) and should hear back from my doctor tomorrow. Thank goodness this was a direct flight. I’m pretty sure Wade would never have gotten me on the second leg.
*I took the above picture out the window and told Wade it might be the last time I saw that view. I was rethinking flying as an option for transportation.