Me & Motion Sickness

"I think about my fear of motion, which I never could explain. Some other fool across the ocean years ago must have crashed his little airplane." --Indigo Girls, "Galileo"

I never fell victim to true unrelenting motion sickness until I went on a cruise ship five years ago. Despite all promises to the contrary, I noticed the continual motion of the ship, felt disoriented by its movement in one direction while I walked the other. And I spent the whole voyage slightly green, slightly drugged and slightly miserable.

Unfortunately, the flight from Atlanta to Salt Lake City brought on the resurgence of my motion sickness in the most sudden and unexpected way. From the outset, I was determined to enjoy the flight, planning for enough solitude to make my way through a book, maybe a magazine. After takeoff, I spent awhile marveling at the way night literally fell down on the horizon, squeezing the sunset into a thin red line before diminishing it altogether. But traveling westward into the sunset meant that soon after the line disappeared, it reappeared on the irridescent underside of clouds and then as an eerie glow eclipsing on the horizon.

And then I started reading. I read through two beverage services. And through Rudy. Yes, they actually showed Rudy on the plane and wanted you to pay for the headphones to hear it. When I finished my book about 48 minutes outside of SLC, I realized within 6 minutes that I should not have been reading.

My stomach felt oily, and I kept swallowing to tamp down my gag reflex. I decided a trip to the bathroom was in order - just to get up and get my mind off the possibility of tossing my Delta Biscoff Cookies. Unfortunately for me, the women behind me was just beside the bathroom making full use of the airsickness bag.

I managed to hold it together on the flight, because I literally prayed to God to keep me from getting sick. I nearly lost it on the moving sidewalk in the airport and had to rush ahead to solid ground. After trying to fight it off in sleep for several hours, I gave up and let loose everything I ate on Friday.

I couldn't help but think that landing in Salt Lake City marked the edge of my westward travel. I'm 27, and I still haven't quite made it across the country. I've only been to a handful of the lower 48 and never out of the country except on the aforementioned cruise to Cozumel. I'm reticent about travel. I think about it but don't take the time for it. Or when I have time, I travel the same roads that I've always traveled. And it's like my wanting to travel is cancelled out by my fear of the unknown and it all culminates in the pit of my stomach where motion sickness takes root. But perhaps with a little Dramamine and courage, I'll keep going.