The Journey is Less Important than the DestinationApril 11, 2012 at 2:37 pm | Posted in Around Boston | 2 Comments
Tags: Bad Traveler, Boston Logan Airport, Logan Express, pregnancy, Sick
I’m finally taking a trip to visit my gal pal Rhymes-With-Tzarina in San Diego (N.B. The jury is still out on what that name means – agree to disagree). I was supposed to visit weeks ago, but had to postpone my trip until I was at least mostly over “the plague,” as I like to call the pneumonia/bronchitis/sinus infection I’ve been so graciously hosting for the past two months.
I packed last night, worked remotely this morning, took a cab to the Logan Express Shuttle and then things started to go wrong… You knew this was going to happen, both because something inevitably goes awry whenever I travel and because I probably wouldn’t be blogging about a totally normal journey.
So here I am, sitting at Logan International Airport, attempting to hide from/avoid acknowledging a woman waiting in the same lounge I’m in. She was on the same shuttle I was on – or, should I say, the same shuttle I started on. You see, not five minutes after the shuttle left a wave of violent nausea overtook me (and NO, I’m not pregnant and this is not morning sickness). I let out the loudest, rudest burp I’ve ever heard, and said fellow passenger literally turned around and glared at me. I started to apologize to her and then it happened. I couldn’t hold it in. I vomited. And it was completely mortifying. Not to mention really uncomfortable.
The shuttle driver was very sweet about having to turn the shuttle around and hightail it straight back to the lot, and didn’t make me feel like the biggest rhymes-with-glass-bowl on the planet. But this lady was less than kind.
I get it. It was a disgusting thing to do. But lady, if I could have avoided it, don’t you think I would have? I mean, come on!
As the driver did a little cleaning, I got off the shuttle, called my mom in a panic, and asked what I should do. Was I pushing it? Was “the plague” sending me a message and ordering me to stay in Beantown? What should I do???
As the shuttle pulled away, “Mo” calmly walked me through my day… when did the nausea start? Did it feel like a tummy bug or food poisoning or something else? What had I eaten? And then we figured it out. I hadn’t eaten. I’d been so busy trying to cram work in and get to the airport on time that I neglected to eat when I took my prescriptions, which very clearly state: “Take with food.”
Here’s hoping that’s the worst (and only) ridiculous and icky thing that happens this trip. But I’m issuing a warning to all San Diegans: don’t be surprised if I accidentally mess something up in your fair city.