9/11/09: London, England
[Editor’s Note: We are finally able to post pictures! We have gone ahead and updated our latest three posts as well… enjoy!]
I know Kevin just wrote about our morning in London Heathrow, and I know he told me I wasn’t supposed to write about what he already wrote about, but I have this unfortunate habit of doing what I want. Plus I think you’ll benefit from my point of view on the whole toilet situation.
I think it was a combination of having an empty stomach, not having slept well in about a week and taking our anti-malarials dry that really got the stomach thing going. I was fine for about, oh, 10 seconds after we took our pills, and then I was not so fine. But I figured it was because I was hungry and so I played it off, thinking we’d get something to eat after we got through security and then I’d be fine. The unfortunate thing about going through security is that there’s really not much to do except stand there. So if you’re not feeling well, you can’t really distract yourself from not feeling sick. All you can do is stand there and think about feeling sick. And then I started feeling REALLY not so fine. So as we put our bins on the roller-thing, I turned to Kevin and whispered, “I think I might need to throw up.” Pause. Then came his concerned response: “Do you think you can hold it for two minutes?” Me, being the trooper that I am, told him I would try. At this point, all I could think about is how close the nearest bathroom would be after we got out of security and whether or not I could make it there. I went through the metal detector but had forgotten to take my iPod out of my pocket, so I was taken aside for a pat down. As soon as this woman started patting me down, I kid you not, I immediately felt better. Because now instead of thinking about throwing up, I was just thinking indignantly about how this stranger was touching me inappropriately.
I survived until breakfast time. I had half of a smoothie. I went to the bathroom. False alarm. I finished my smoothie. I thought it was all over since I had gotten some food in my stomach. I settled down for a nice long nap in my sleeping bag liner. Since my stomach was still a bit queasy, I couldn’t fall asleep right away.
[Aside: when I can’t fall asleep, I play this game in my head where I think of a category and then go through every letter of the alphabet and try to find an alliterative phrase that fits the category. Yes, I know, I am a nerd.]
So I started playing my falling-asleep game. The category was “famous people.” I started off pretty well, coming up with “Alan Alda” and “Beetle Bailey” right away. I think I must have almost fallen asleep, because the last thing I remember thinking before feeling violently sick was “Octopus Octagon.” I mean, it just makes no sense! Even if you give some leeway for “Octopus,” there’s nothing you can come up with to justify “Octagon.” This just shows you how delirious I was. I got up and sprinted to the nearest bathroom. When I got into the women’s bathroom, the person in front of me had just taken the last available stall. I looked around frantically and saw that the last door on the left was opening, so I sprinted back there and almost knocked down the woman coming out. To be fair, she was really kind of slow getting out of there. She gave me a look, but I think she should just be glad that I didn’t throw up on her as she was taking her sweet time coming out of that stall. So then I threw up my entire smoothie. And probably whatever was left of my anti-malarial. And then I went back to lie down for a nap and fell asleep before my head even hit that hard airport chair. And I had the best sleep I’ve had since last Friday.
Picture of the Day: “Mr. Turtle looks up and thinks sadly, ‘This can never work.’”