Worst.Flight.Ever.

If you just finished reading the "Abu Dhabi Recap" post, you know that as I left for the airport for my 15 and 1/2 hour (yes, you read that right...15 and 1/2 hour - thank you, evil headwinds) non-stop flight back to Chicago, I kind of thought the worst was behind me, or had fled out my behind. I could not have been more wrong.

I was feeling good enough when I got to the airport that I thought I could eat something. In the First/Business Lounge, I remembered the BRAT diet, and had a couple of pieces of toast, nothing fancy. It went down easy and seemed to settle nicely. Goody. Maybe things were going to be OK and my legendary cast-iron stomach was going to keep its streak going.

This was not to be. About 90 minutes after take-off and two visits to the toilet, I started to doubt the integrity of said cast-iron. That being said, the tomato soup starter and the beef tenderloin main looked appealing. I could only get through three spoonfuls of soup before warning signals started going off. But did I stop? No. The beef tenderloin came out and it looked great. Three bites later and I was done, having barely gone through a third of the cut. The warning signals had now turned to DefCon 5 warnings. A few minutes after the flight attendant took my plates away, it was back to the bathroom and this time it was ugly. I came to appreciate the simple engineering marvel that is the air sickness bag:

This little wax-lined marvel is a miracle worker. I was in pretty bad shape being assaulted from the inside out when I needed to grab the bag and give it a full work out. And by full, I mean, full. If I have to paint you a picture, you can contact me directly. I will just tell you that it was rough. It was also the first time in my years and years and millions of miles of flying that I've ever had to use said bag for its real purpose. I've used them previously as a notepad, to store stuff in, etc., but never to fulfill its intended use. Here's what I can tell you...they work as designed and they are tough, resiliently so. Never thought I'd be grateful for a barf bag, but boy, was I ever on my flight yesterday.

So once that drama was over and I'll leave out the gory details, I went back to my seat, knowing that there were probably eleven hours still to go, if not more. I did not want to fall asleep for fear of what the alien I feared was still lurking inside of me might do, so I just shivered for awhile and sipped water, hoping I could keep it down. I did but I still think I was in the lav more than I was my seat.

I never want to do that again. Ever. This goes down as the Worst.Flight.Ever. I do not recommend getting sick on the plane. Don't do it. Ever. Oh, and to the poor, poor soul or souls who had to clean the lav at 2R on that Etihad A340 that brought me back to ORD, I am really, really sorry.