Upchuck luck

Quite often it is the unglamorous and untold story that truly begins any story. We like to skip certain parts and go straight to the excitement, but life isn’t always that exciting, or fun, or even happy. So it is only appropriate that I tell you about my adventure prior to arriving in Tel Aviv.

We met as a group Friday morning and rode together to the airport. As one of the least traveled in the group I was happy for the extra expertise. The check in and first leg of the flight to JFK was fairly uneventful which is actually what you mostly want in a flight. I had sat in the middle of 2 strangers, in what I think should be called the squish seat, because it’s pretty squishy when you are in the middle with no right to any particular arm rest and no area of your own to lean onto (window) or away from (aisle). I was actually pretty excited to get a window seat for the much longer flight from New York to Tel Aviv, and also to find out I actually knew and liked the person I was sitting next to.

After being on the flight a couple of hours- no actually after being in the airplane for a couple of hours; it seems there is a requirement that you sit on the runway for some length of time in New York before you can actually take off, but irregardless, I was getting hungry. When snacks came around I quickly gobbled some pretzels and drank a juice. About an hour later I started feeling a bit queasy. (Those without children or uneasy with talking about body fluids may want to skip to another story at this point). I am rarely ever queasy. I can probably count on one hand the number of times that I have thrown up since adulthood (not that I want to count them). I was sure that a few good burps would set me aright. So I got up and moved around, went to the bathroom, came back and sat down. It didn’t help. Pretty soon I was making Donna (in the aisle seat) move again. Once again I went to the bathroom and once again, I came back still nauseous, although I did bring the appropriate baggy with me just in case. Not long after I returned the stewardess brought dinner. I am not sure it would have looked appetizing with a healthy appetite, but in my state it simply put me over the edge. Donna miraculously held up her tray and mine while I slid by for the third time. Not wanting to go back until either I felt better or the dinner tray was gone, I hung around the bathroom door, waiting as several people went in and out. I finally went in and simply prayed- “Lord if I have to throw up, can I just throw up now?” I mentally pictured the meal I had left with Donna and promptly filled up the bag. Matter of fact I was panicky trying to pull out another bag, afraid I would overflow the one, when it was over. Sweet relief. It is a gross thing, but when you get to that point of nausea, it is wonderful just to feel better.

When I returned to my seat I discovered that Donna had wisely taken our trays to the back and thrown them out. And she still bravely sat next to me, even though she had caught a bug the year before when she flew to Israel and missed part of her trip, as she stayed in the hotel sick.

So what does this have to do with Israel? Not much, but even in the exciting and fun parts of our lives, there are still irritations, and difficulties. And even in the irritations and difficulties there are silver linings like friends that show concern and share their blanket. And with each sickness there is a renewed appreciation for health and just plain feeling good. Lastly there is a curiosity satisfied. The airline barf bags really do work. As flimsy as they look they hold quite securely quite a bit of upchuck. So now that you know- I hope you never have to use one yourself.