I had my usual travel anxiety.  This is still something of a mystery for me.  I used to be such a calm flier.  The TSA line was long so we ended up boarding as soon as we reached the gate.  No time to take my anti-anxiety drug.  Every time the engines powered up, I clenched and unclenched my jaws until they ached.  My heart felt like it was being compressed inside a vacuum.  I had a burning, tingling sensation all over my chest as if someone had scraped my skin with a brillo pad.  I caught a short glimpse of the end of the runway as the plane turned.  Another wave of dread hit me as as I realized the moment I hated the most was fast approaching.  The plane accelerated and we were in the air.  Without the aid of their drugs, I was forced to rely on my old coping mechanisms.  I reminded myself that millions of people fly every day without incident.  That the pilots have no interest in dying either.  That I take deadly risks behind the wheel of a car all the time.  That the airlines take safety seriously and accidents would be bad for profits.  That if I wanted to travel, planes are the fastest way to get from A to B.  I still felt like screaming but fear of embarrassment (Of all things!) keeps my lips pressed tightly together.  I took deep breaths and swallowed.  The ascent was mercifully turbulence free and so was the cruising altitude.

The flight attendant started beverage service so I got a cup of coffee.  I downed it along with 2 xanax.  I have never done this before, but given the mild effects of a single dose I did not expect what happened next. I remember gulping down the rest of the coffee because we were descending (it's a short hop from St. Louis to Chicago).  I remember waiting for the connecting flight and a man who looked like a rabbi praying before the flight.  I don't remember getting on the flight or anything else until we start to descend and that's only because my husband woke me up.  I remember talking to a very nice lady who directed us to the courtesy van, but not much of the ride to the ship.  Going through customs and getting my ship ID was a blur.  Our steward was smart enough to see how out of it I was and cut short his explanation of the housekeeping schedule.  I collapsed on the bed and didn't wake up until 5 am the next morning.  I love pharmaceuticals.