Sleeping on the plane

About a month ago now, I wrote about how my mom was sick, and how she had a severe heart attack, and about how I wasn't sure how much writing I was going to be doing in the future because of how hard that rocked me. Fortunately I pushed myself through it, as did she, and now she's fully recovered and moving on with our lives. But that night, as I flew out to see her, I cannot accurately put into words how tired and afraid I was.

It was already pretty late when I got on the plane. Or, at least, it was pretty late for me. I've been working a very early morning job for about a year, which means going to bed several hours earlier than most people, and by the time I was getting on the plane it was well past my bed time. I remember hearing the flight attendants reading their sheets about plane safety, telling us about buckling our seat belts and where the emergency exits were. But I don't remember them exactly stopping talking about it. One second I was there, on the plane, listening, my eyes starting to droop, and then it was black and silent.

I've always been good at sleeping in vehicles. And by that, I mean that being in a moving vehicle for about a half an hour or more just puts me straight to sleep. But I'd never fallen asleep before the vehicle even started moving like that before. I never felt the plane take off. I never heard the roar of the engines. It wasn't a gradual thing like it sometimes is for me, giving me time to adjust myself in my seat to be in a more comfortable position. I was just out.

The bounce as we landed was what woke me up, and it scared the shit out of me. Having not been awake during take off, I thought we were taking off. I thought something had gone wrong. I had gone from still motion to full speed landing, and it felt like we were going fast. Too fast. And we weren't leaving the ground. The bump had felt like something had gone wrong, and the fact we were going so fast but felt like we were trying desperately to slow down made it seem like we were going to crash.

My head whipped violently back and forth, trying to see out an open window, and was surprised to see how calm the other passengers were. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and yet no one else was in the least concerned. It took me too long to realize what had happened.

I had enough reason to be rushing off the plane as it was with my mother, but my chest was still hurting from how hard my heart was pounding, and I wanted off.