i was scheduled for my yearly vacation and planned to visit my parents, who lived 270 miles away. i was going to drive my honda accord, which id purchased brand-new less than a year ago. she was my second car; after all the problems id had with the first, i vowed never to buy another used set of wheels and let that keep me behind (like having to turn down a reporter position at the sacramento bee, a major newspaper, cuz of no reliable transportation). as soon as i got the honda home, slapped a special coat of carnuba over the no-wax paint, and showed her off to all the local relatives, tho, i became sick with some strange bug. i was dizzy, feverish, listless, and had a nagging headache. the spell lasted two weeks, during which time my friends had more fun driving my new car than i. then it was back to work and school again. i was taking career classes at the j.c., being my ba in english hadnt done all that much for me, and had landed an internship with a custom cabinet-maker. things were looking up, i bragged to my folks when they came down for xmas and easter. when the year rolled around i was ready for a nice break at their lakeside condo. the month before i got my hair cellophaned and permed. "rootbeer" was my regular shade, rather like my natural color. everything seemed to be fine. but that night i woke up in a cold sweat, nauseated, with an intense throbbing headache. i felt as if id been poisoned. throwing up, i felt better enough to go back to sleep, but was somewhat weak the next morning, so i took the day off. by afternoon i was okay. a week later i was heading out for my daily aerobic walk through the nearby suburban foothills when i noticed i had a funny gait; though my legs werent stiff, i could take only short little steps, as if my hip sockets had stop blocks inside. maybe it was my back, but probably that time of month; one could always blame things on that. later at work a strange immature boy who saw me got up from his chair and started walking funny, laughing. so it was that apparent. but it lasted only a day and i soon forgot about it. time to get ready for the trip to reno. i took off a few days early to have some time to myself. but within a couple days i became violently ill, some sort of stomach flu with bizarre neurological symptoms, including dizziness and ringing in the ears. geez, ill never make the drive through the windy roads in this heat, i thought. but i was determined to make good use of my vacation time. well, id fly up then, take the faithful yellow bird whod always escorted me out-of-state when my parents moved my third year of college. when i called for reservations, hughes airwest had changed ownership, but no matter. it was only a short flight, 45 minutes, the shortest id ever had. by the time i enjoyed the take-off rush, wed be heading back down. there, it was all taken care of. i was all packed, nothing to do but sleep this darn flu off. but it was not to be. as soon as i tried to relax, the overhead planes kept waking me up. a trickle of fear leaked into my mind. what if...? naw, naw, i said to myself sleepily but firmly. what if... mmmmm, yawn, never mind. THE PLANE MIGHT CRASH. huh? youve got to be kidding. YES, CRASH. crash, crash, crash! oh, god, i thought, rolling over and sitting up on the edge of the bed. was this really happening? was i, once a frequent flyer who prefered a plane over my tin lizzy any day, now afraid to take the high road after a hiatus of 5 years? was i becoming one of those pathetic neurotic people, unable to be reasoned with, now that i was pushing thirty? oh god, no. but it was true. as the day wore on, as sunset progressed to dawn, my fear intensified. what had started as a trickle of dread became a flood of terror. thoughts of crashing refused to leave my mind. i was so exhausted from diarrhea my legs were trembling, yet i couldnt sleep. someone had really turned up the volume on the overhead planes; each passing pierced the sky like a sonic boom. the usual response to any jet from my lightly constructed apartment complex, subtle creaks like the building settling, became sharp cracks as if the joists might split. the window glass, was it cracking, too? the oddest thoughts took over my confused brain: that plane up there, its going to fall on the building. no... YES, HEAR IT?!? no, its impossible (HEAR IT?), we're not even on course (HEAR IT?), i dont think so... Darnit, stop it! i yelled to myself; its over the freeway, the noise projects! but, CRASH...ON-THE-BUILDING...i still thought. resigned to my fate--so i was like 30% of flyers, so what? i was too normal for my age, according to a best-selling book of averages--but determined not to let irrational fear stop me, i called my doctor for some tranquilizers. my first such request, he remarked on my weakness, but i swallowed my pride with the nausea. meanwhile, wierd electrical sensations had taken over the left side of my body, nerves shooting fire and ice. a ghostly hand seemed to be touching the back of my neck. i wasnt hyperventilating, but i knew the doctord say so if i told... i dont know how i made it to departure day, but there i was, dragging my overnight bag through the crowd, squinting up for the gate, my hands sweating, CRASH-CRASH-CRASH! a constant drum beat in my mind. i was going to be fine; all this phobia business was nonsense, i convinced myself. i hadnt even bothered with the tranqs after a trial dose didnt do one thing. look, id made it to my seat by the window without one anxiety attack. id remembered to ask for the wing. for the first time i paid close attention to the flight attendents safety instructions. oxygen, there was always that (but might make the anxiety worse, id heard). here we were, jogging down the runway like scouts on a hayride. and here we go, i thought. we were picking up speed. soon, it will be over, just relax, distract myself. how many buttons on that mans shirt. my, what upholstory colors. stripes, must have some psychological significance; hypnotic, perhaps, but not for me. i heard myself talking to the young professional black woman next to me in a nervous apologetic voice as if i were woody allen. "ever suddenly feel afraid to fly when youve flown without qualms your whole life?" "no," she mumbled, opening a magazine as a room divider. sorry, i thought, fumbling for one myself; no one liked to be reminded, i guess. there was the barf bag, next to an issue of life; commit that to memory. ah, take-off, still my favorite part, yes it was, yes still. up in the air now. i stared at my newsweek blankly. almost there, wont be long. not hyperventilating. keeping breakfast down. but over the sierra nevada mountains we experienced some turbulence; the worst id ever seen, in fact. the small jet seemed to bounce from cloud to cloud like a badminton birdie. "is it always this bad?" i couldnt help commenting. no one answered; all glad theyd kept on their seatbelts, apparently. thought that would never be over. check for barf bag again. finally we were preparing for landing. the pilot breaking in on the staticky loudspeaker. the moment of suspense when the plane seems to hover in midair, the engines seem to stop, and you wonder if its gonna plummet straight down even in the best of times. but no, only getting into position, waiting for the signal...and now coasting along over the freeway, gradually dropping lower, the cars below coming into view like little toys on a fake track, the trees a safe buffer, tiny people going about their business, all in the hands of the lord. look! the big painted arrows on the runway. oh, god, please dont let me throw up! concentrating on that prayer i was barely conscious of the rough jarring as the plane hit the ground seemingly with one wheel and tilted to one side, quickly righted itself, then dragged to a stop with tremendous noise. something had happened. we were parked in the middle of the runway and the passengers were in an uproar. sitting in a sick daze, i pictured the bottom of the plane all scraped up, but everything seemed so unreal. "thats the last time i take this airline!" i heard an elderly lady swear. people were trying to get up but the stewardess stopped them. "the plane was 'disabled,'" the copilot explained vaguely, and would have to be towed to the gate. "please remain in your seats." we mustve lost a wheel. i guess that meant we almost crashed. i couldnt believe it. but i was still on the verge of a vomit and could think of nothing else as we waited to be hauled away. when i finally saw my folks i practically fell into their arms. "the plane almost crashed," i breathed, thankful for the fresh air, which soon revived me. we went to a restaurant and i ate in a trance, surprised how the food made me feel even better. but what i really longed for was a nice long nap, which my parents understood. i spent a quiet week with them. the flight home was uneventful; to my relief my fear of flying had vanished as mysteriously as it had come. my strange flu though was still with me, along with a bevy of new symptoms, so i finally sought a specialist. "your disks are swollen," she commented, shining her bright examining light into my eyes. "thats a sign of encephalitis." as it turned out, blood tests showed i had epstein-barr, the virus that causes mononucleosis, in an acute but reactivated stage, and should recover "by the end of the summer." was its effect on my brain responsible for my sudden psychic insight about the planes mechanical problem? who can say!!!! (to be continued) How it changed my life:if i ever had unexplained anxiety, i realize it might be a PrEMONiTION.
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