Friday, May 11, 2007

Aviophobia Update



You may have read here that I suffer from Aviophobia (A confession: How I slipped through the NSA metal detectors. . .with some heavy metal!; Fear Of Flying, Fear of Dying; Poem: Falling; Poem: Notes On Flying; One More Reason Why I Am Scared Sh**less To Fly: Video Of Fixing A Jet's Wing With Duct Tape; Airline passenger restrictions, hip replacements, and why the Executive Branch goes unmolested, while I am scanned, probed, poked and patted down; Poem: The Icarus Factor).

Despite these fears, I now relentlessly fly all over the country. I just returned from a four flight trip up and down the West Coast (with a couple more flights on the horizon next week). Believe it or not, the flight on which I felt least anxious was on a turbo-prop (a Q 200) that brought me home to Seattle from Eugene. You'd think a propeller whirling ten feet from your head would cause someone like me a case of extreme jitters. Maybe it was taking four flights in three days that numbed me. Maybe I am now in such a constant state of alarm that the actual getting on the plane part is no longer even noticeably anxiety-triggering. I just don't know. There is something sweet and old school about flying these turbo-props. Thirty passengers, every seat is an aisle or window seat, free drinks, friendly cabin attendants, and the beauty of getting on and off the plane right on the tarmac. The plane clears out in two minutes, and your bags are right next to the plane. The plane gets in the air almost instantly and climbs fast compared to a lumbering 747. Even in this loud, vibration-heavy plane I am no longer a total basket case.

Now that I have several flights always booked, I at least no longer suffer a two week long build-up of anxiety, or a near catatonic shutdown on the actual day of the flight. The one thing I can't tell is if I am healing myself or if I have become utterly numb, and my brain has just shut down most of that aviophobic input. Whatever the case, it is easier to fly. I think. I am building up my frequent flyer mileage at an amazing rate! And what do you get with frequent flyer miles? More flights!

I should mention that on every single flight I take, my bags are scrutinized, and sometimes unpacked, and I am gone over with the wand, and then "patted down." My prosthetic hip sets off metal detectors. So on this week's trip, I was frisked four times. Unlike a lot of my fellow passengers, I am pretty sanguine about the pat-downs. Many other people become quite surly during this procedure. I don't know if I am being a nice guy about it, or, again, am I now numb?
---o0o---

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