The flight that was supposed to take me from Houston to Atlanta to Chicago ended up taking me here. We did indeed start off in Houston and made a stop in Atlanta (where they have a Chick-Fil-A in the airport!), but we had to stop in Indianapolis because of bad weather around Midway Airport in Chicago. "Golf-ball sized hail" is what the captain said.
There should be a new term for big hail. Anytime there's hail, it's compared to golf balls. It's boring now. Totes cliché. There are other types of balls out there. Tennis balls. Baseballs. Ping pong balls. And why not explore other avenues? Why stick with just balls? How about guayaba-sized hail? Or the face of a Casio watch-sized hail? Maybe even Pomerian poop-sized hail.
We had to land in Indianapolis (former home of Peyton Manning!) because of Pom-poo-hail and we waited. And waited. And waited. And then we were off! It's a short plane ride from Indianapolis to Chicago. Only about forty-five minutes. However, after an hour and a half, the pilot said we were heading to St. Louis instead. The runway lights at Midway were out. And the hail poop was returning.
After nearly ten hours of being in seat 17D on a 747, we landed in St. Louis. After another hour next to a dude who kept trying to fart discreetly but who was failing because everyone could tell he wasn't leaning to the side to stretch (that dude was me...), we were allowed to get off the plane. And wait. In line. For two hours. To be told that all flights were sold out for the next morning and that they couldn't give us any hotel rooms because this was not a Southwest problem. This was a Midway problem.
After another hour at gate 16, my mom called and suggested I just grab a room somewhere and I could fly out later the next day. The Southwest attendant booked me a seat for the 9:55pm flight (which apparently has now been delayed so that it's the 10:35pm flight) and I took the shuttle to the Drury Inn. Where I paid $89+tax for room 512 and a complimentary breakfast buffet.
Friends, let me tell you about that breakfast buffet. It was small. There were the essentials and then a nifty waffle maker. But I tore that breakfast buffet apart. The previous day, I only had an Orange Carrot Karma smoothie from Jamba Juice, a honey-whole wheat bagel with strawberry schmear, some pretzels and three chocolate brownie Cliff bars (I had a bunch in my suitcase).
This morning, I had a whole plate of scrambled eggs, two biscuits with some gravy, two sausage patties, a bowl of oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar, a cinnamon-raisin bagel, a slice of white bread, a Yoplait strawberry-banana yogurt with granola annnnd one of those huge waffles. I am stuffed, but if you charge me $89+tax for a room, I am going to tear up your breakfast buffet. Tear it UP.
I'm trying to decide whether I want to just wait till 10:35pm, try to do the whole standby thing for an earlier flight or just rent a car and drive the 4.5 hours to Chicago. The easiest and cheapest thing would have been to wait at the airport and just taken the first available flight out in the morning. But I didn't do that.
Not that I didn't want to. I felt like I couldn't. I can't do anything early (more on that in a second).
As everyone was waiting in line, four peeps around my age said "Hey, let's just rent a car and drive! We'd get there by 4AM and we can take turns driving and split the cost of the car and gas!"
It was a great idea. And a small adventure. A fun story to tell people later on in life, right (unless all four of them turned out to be murderers and tore me UP)? I was going to go with them, when right before we crossed security, I froze and asked myself a simple question.
What if I had to pee?
It's a stupid question, right? A normal person would just hold it. Or if they really had to go, we'd stop at a gas station or rest stop. No big deal.
Except it's not like that with me. I think I might have touched upon this briefly in a previous blog post, but I was half-joking about it so I don't think anyone took it seriously. So I'm going to try to be fairly serious about this for the next few paragraphs.
I have pretty bad anxiety issues.
I'm not sure what I have, but I think it's a form of agoraphobia. I've told friends and family about it, but it's so silly that either they think it's a joke or they don't know how to respond. Agoraphobia is when you have anxiety attacks when you're in a situation where it's difficult to escape. This can be an open field, shopping malls, buses, planes (the wikipedia article is very informative). It's different for everyone, as are the reactions. Some people have difficulty breathing. I feel like I'm going to poo or pee my pants.
Seriously. Right now, I'm sitting in the hotel room. I've been holding it in for a good couple of hours. I'm fine because I know there's a restroom only a few feet away. But tell me that I can't use the restroom and I will flip out and feel like I need to urinate RIGHT NOW. It used to be that way with bowel movements as well, but I've kinda got that under control. Kinda. I drink coffee (which is a diuretic) and then go to the bathroom four or five times in the course of three hours and then I'm fine for the rest of the day. Which is why I can't do anything in the mornings. Even if I don't drink coffee, I still get cramps and the sudden urge to go. The caffeine simply speeds up the process.
And I was actually doing a lot better with the bladder issues too, to be honest. I'd go hours without using the restroom. If I knew I was going to be in a situation where there would be no access to a restroom, I'd stop drinking water a couple of hours before heading out. I'd try to pee as much as possible to make sure my bladder was empty. There were situations where I freaked out and I use the bathroom a LOT more than normal people, but it was manageable. Under control.
Then Kayla came to visit for two weeks (which was awesome) and we went out everyday and I got a little stressed and then when we were going to fly back to Houston, our flight was delayed three hours. Then we got on the plane, waited an hour, and were then told the flight was canceled. That jumpstarted the problem because it really stressed me out. The few days after that, I couldn't hold it in more than an hour or so. Yesterday's flight issues have exacerbated it, but I think I'm settling back down.
It's silly, right? Kinda funny. Except not really. Excuse the emo-ness, but I feel like I've become a different person because of it. I used to say yes to nearly everything. Road trip at 4AM to somewhere I've never been? Sure. Hitting up Galveston at night to go skinny dipping? Let's go. I liked going out, I loved road trips, I especially loved flying. It was awesome. And now I try to avoid situations where I won't be able to use the restroom.
That's why I ride my bike everywhere. I'm in control when I'm on my bike. If I need to pee, I can pull over anywhere and go. If I'm on a bus or on the el, what do I do if there's traffic or if the el gets stuck for an hour?
Plane rides aren't too bad because they do have restrooms on the plane, but those fifteen minutes when taking off and fifteen minutes when landing are some of the most horrible experiences for me. I go before the flight, four or five times during the flight and then once more after the flight, just for good measure.
I have to have an aisle seat now. I used to love having a window seat. I seriously used to LOVE flying. I would write. I would read. It was relaxing. And now I hate it.
And it sucks. I want to stop being like this and go back to the way I was. I know when it started happening. I had my first freak out in February of 2008. Delma and I were stuck in traffic on 610 and I started panicking (Delma has been so supportive, by the way. Even when we have to cancel plans because I'm not feeling ready to leave the house). I just felt like I really had to go. Out of no where. We got off of the freeway, I ran into a Starbucks and... nothing. It got worse for a bit, then disappeared for a year or so. Then in 2010, on a flight back from Chicago, I had to pee. Really bad. I had downed two cups of coffee and four cups of water and I thought I could hold it. Right before taking off, I unbuckled my seatbelt and ran into the restroom. The flight attendants started banging on the restroom door, telling me to get out. We couldn't take off until I was out of there.
The weird thing was that I COULDN'T GO. I don't know why. It was as if my body locked up. After a little bit, I went, but it was really weird. I had to go, but couldn't. The flight attendant came over during the middle of the flight and, with one of those bitchy smirks, said I could be thrown into jail for doing that. Thanks, lady.
After that, things started getting really bad. I didn't want to go anywhere because I was scared I was going to pee myself. When Delma came to visit, we would be walking around Lincoln Park and I would have to stop and pee in alleys because I feared I couldn't hold it.
Thinking about it makes me freak out a little. I feel like I have to pee right now. And if I went, I'd probably go.
I don't know why I wrote about this. Maybe writing it out will help me figure out a solution. Maybe someone will comment and be like "You have THIS and HERE's the treatment!" Maybe it'll make someone laugh. It IS a pretty silly situation. And I have yet to ever actually pee/poo my pants.
My dad says it's all in my head. And I know it is. I've gone to the doctor and I don't have a UTI or any stomach issues (aside from having a faulty gallbladder). I have a peanut allergy, apparently, but even after I gave up peanut butter, I'd still have the panic attacks. So, yeah, it is psychological. But it's hard to convince yourself of that when you feel like your bladder is going to burst.
But yeah. Because of that, I didn't go to with those four peeps to Chicago and I didn't take any of the 6AM flights. So I'm stuck here for a bit.
It's all about control, really. I want to be in control. Of everything. I don't like situations where I'm not in control. Even improv scenes (I always relate everything back to improv, huh?). I tend to be the dominant alpha male in scenes. I try to control the direction of the scene.
I just need to learn to go with the flow, I guess. I thought I was pretty easy-going and relaxed. Maybe I'm not.
This is the type of thing that makes you question who you are. Existential agoraphobia.
If you went through and read everything, thanks. I'm not going to edit it. I should. Maybe I will later.
I'm going to go to the airport now and grab me a Cinnabon. I'll catch you guys in Chicago.
Have you checked for 'roids. It could be that.
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