2010-04-26

Flight

Ask anyone who knows me. They’ll tell you. They know me.

I hate to fly.


I know. This is sort of a pain in the ass for assignments like this, where the entire thing starts with thirty hours of air travel, and is ultimately peppered with short hops in country every couple of days. The big birds aren’t too bad, provided there’s not too much turbulence. I actually enjoy helicopter travel (for the most part), as you can usually open a window if things get too stuffy.

It’s the smaller, fixed wing aircraft that really heap on the anxiety. It’s not the size so much, or the fact that you’re crammed shoulder to shoulder and knees to knees with the rest of the cargo, or even the tactical takeoffs and landings (those are sort of a thrill). Mostly, I think, it’s the claustrophobia brought on by almost total lack of windows. This would also explain my avoidance of cube farms and interior conference rooms, but that could just be a work thing.

Regardless the cause, I would like to do without all of the small military cargo aircraft, but this plan doesn’t always shake out, so I’m now sitting in a corridor in the local Role II (plus) CSH looking for a few doses of Dramamine for the flight out of here tomorrow. The medic at the front had nothing of the sort, so he led me to a chair in the sick call line where I started as number three, but am currently number two, with Germans before and after, and with little to do but sit and wait, which is fine. It beats a seat on a C-130.

For all appearances, this is a nice hospital, and the result of some well directed German overspending. Not that I ever want to be admitted here, but Role II generally means they can perform life saving and stabilizing surgeries, and then ship most of their patients to regional Role III facilities within 24 hours for further work before the wounded get airlifted to military hospitals in Europe for treatment and recovery. It’s a first class operation, and probably much better equipped than your local county facility except for, perhaps, their pediatrics unit.

Better yet, they’ve got doses of Dimemhydrinat in the easy to use Reisetabletten formula by Ratiopharm. I’m good to go.

2 comments:

dB said...

My hat is off to you for tolerating tight places like that while flying. I cannot handle coach seating, even for short fights. The last time I was on the brink of losing it less than 30minutes into the flight and that was with an aisle seat! In your shoes they would have likely had to strap me down for my own good and those around me.

Rex Morgan, MD said...

The strapping down is included with every flight at no extra charge.