Anyone who knows me, even in passing, knows I love to travel; always have, always will. There’s nothing like the thrill of a journey to me and I love all aspects of it: dreaming, researching, planning, and when I finally get there, soaking up this new destination either by experiencing its cuisine, culture, and language, or by photographing its people and places. There is only one part of this whole process I find daunting: getting into the plane. Yes, I have a deep fear of flying. A fear so complete and pervasive, that it sets in the moment I enter my credit card info when buying a ticket online. My heart-rate rises just a little, and I feel a bit queasy, as I select my seats and willingly agree to subject myself to an activity that has the potential to quite literally paralyze me with fear--those of you who share my phobia know what I’m talking about. The slightest turbulence or variation in the sound of the engine can instantly transform me into a statue and I resent anyone trying to touch or talk to me, lest it distract me from my fear; or rather, my concentration on detecting any tiny indication that the plane will soon unexpectedly make a nosedive to the ground or spontaneously burst into flames. Irrational, maybe, but I suppose that’s the nature of a phobia.
Until a few years ago, I would only take flights of less than 4 hours because I felt that was the longest I could subject myself to the heart-pounding, adrenaline-flooding, nausea-inducing endurance test that a fear of flying unleashes on my body each time I step into the belly of the winged beast. Before long though, there was no way a 4-hour range was going to be able to satisfy my wanderlust, so I turned to my Aunt Becky (flight attendant extraordinaire for over 30 years) for help. I was finally ready to take the trans-Atlantic leap for an inaugural trip to Paris with my friend Suzette, and she suggested since the flight would be almost 8 hours that I take an
Ambien (cue the chorus of angels—because this has truly changed my travel life like nothing else). For those of you who aren’t familiar with this medication, it is a strong, non habit-forming, sleeping pill that knocks you out fast and long. I am in no way endorsing Ambien, which is available by prescription only, but it just happens to work for me. You should consult with your doctor to figure out what works for you. I had tried over the counter sleeping pills in the past but they were no match for the heightened stress-reaction brought on by my fear of flying. They just couldn’t knock me out.
On my first flight with Ambien, I heeded my aunt’s instructions that I take it on an empty stomach, just 30 minutes before boarding. At first I felt nothing, and was panicked that it would have no affect, subjecting me to 7 and a half hours of torture. While standing in line to board the plane to Paris, I felt the ground shake below me and wondered if one of the baggage trucks had hit the gangway from the ground below. I turned to Suzette and asked “did you feel that?” She looked at me bewildered. A few moments later, I felt another thud and my knees almost gave out. I reached wildly for the wall to steady myself and looked around but noticed everyone seemed to be standing up just fine, with no look of concern on their faces. I turned to Suzette—she looked at me as though I were insane. What was going on here? I wobbled the rest of the way to my seat, feeling like I was in a boat on choppy waters and sat down trying to figure it out as I placed my passport into its holder. Suzette later reported, it took me about 12 minutes, and 8 attempts to actually get the passport into the holder but it felt like mere seconds to me.
It turns out, that little pill had started working on me about 10 minutes after I swallowed it, and though I thought I felt the same, it was definitely having an affect on me. Over the next 8 years, I would learn of all sorts of ways Ambien affects me; much to the amusement of friends and family. For some reason, when on Ambien, I slow down to about a quarter of my usual speed (both physically and mentally), make all sorts of inane impulse purchases, and lose most of my ability to type, make quick decisions, or censor myself. Oh, and did I mention the short-term amnesia? It is not unusual for me to find a bag full of airport souvenirs and chachka after arriving at my destination, wondering which stranger’s shopping bag has ended up in my carry-on.
Eight years later, we are now old pros at Ambien travel. I don’t take my pill until the plane is actually at the gate, no pre-flight decisions are left to me, and Bez doesn’t let me go into any of the airport shops without him-- although I did manage to sneak a $30 pocket calendar past him on our departure from Venice a couple years ago. It's tiny, written completely in Italian, and only had 2 more months left in it at the time. In any event, after a few practice runs working out the kinks, Ambien has become my constant companion on long trips and has been the solution to my debilitating phobia. I take it about 15 minutes before boarding time and by the time the plane takes off, I am blissfully unaware until the wheels touch the ground. I arrive at my destination rested and unstressed and wonder why everyone doesn’t fly this way. It almost feels like time-travel to me; I close my eyes and open them in what feels like moments later, only to find myself on the other side of the world seven to twelve hours later.
To this day, Suzette can still laugh herself to tears describing the scene when our plane finally left for Paris: during takeoff, a distraught flight attendant trying to break down the bathroom door when she realized I was still in there, pleading frantically for me to respond and affirm that I was ok; me, inside, oblivious and completely overwhelmed by all the paper choices (toilet paper, tissue paper, paper towels), dreamily considering the individual merits of each. But I feel a great sense of comfort each time I’m on the gangway waiting to get on the plane, chatting with Bez about the great trip we’re about to take, when I suddenly grab his arm and interrupt him, asking “did you feel that?”
r airfare. We have used airmiles to travel to Europe, Central America, and Hawaii, and plan to use them for many more trips to come!
Kauai is one of the eight main islands that make up Hawaii. It is referred to the garden isle, and it lives up to its name. The island is green and lush, in addition to the gorgeous coastline and beaches you would expect in Hawaii. In Kauai you can satisfy your need for fun in the sun and beach activities, but there is also no end of hiking, camping and kayaking. The island's landscape is made all the more interesting by its sizable population of wild chickens that can be seen everywhere from your arrival at the airport, outside your hotel, and even along the shore as you launch your kayak.
