I’m sorry I almost killed you.
It was never my intent.
As I sat watching passengers parading up the aisle, and worrying over who would occupy the seat between myself and the man in 14A, you stopped just short of our row and ever so politely asked me if I would mind letting you get to your seat. I practically jumped with joy out of 14C feeling like I had won the travel jackpot to rival all jackpots. You were of average weight and height, had impeccable manners, minimal perfume on, weren’t carrying a bag of Fritos, corn nuts, a tuna sandwich, or a screaming toddler to sit in your lap.
It’s not that I don’t like Fritos or Tuna though I’ve never had the two together. I do hate corn nuts, but I am a mother of two so I get the screaming toddler traveller…been there done that. It’s just while my husband sat in a different row with our two children, I planned on pulling out my brand new MacBook Air and pretending I was some important business woman traveling to a conference on the latest in smart phone technology or an experienced journalist on her way to catch the big story. What I wasn’t pretending to be was a doctor and keynote speaker at a Doctors Without Borders Conference. I had spent enough years playing doctor so to speak, though not with the boy next door so no worries mom.
Since the age of four, I walked around fashioning my plastic stethoscope around my neck. Fisher Price medical bag in hand, I told anyone and everyone that I wanted to be a doctor someday. It is all I ever spoke of, and all I ever imagined becoming when I grew up. It was my third year in college when my dad died. His death opened my eyes to the fact that I was on a path I didn’t really want to be on but stayed true to because I had never considered anything else. I had no Plan B. Kids, always have a Plan B. My dad’s death made me realize that life is too short to do something simply because it is expected of you, so I changed my career path and have never looked back.
That is until you Ma’am. When you started to complain of a headache, and asked if I had any Tylenol (I didn’t) we were still good. When you started to complain you were feeling dizzy, I was happy to ring the button for the flight attendant to bring you some water. I was even okay holding a wet cloth to your forehead when you said you were feeling faint. The problem started when you started to shake, closed your eyes, and became unresponsive.
As I stood in the aisle, amid the flurry of flight attendants and those who had answered the call for a doctor on board and ultimately in life, I knew without a doubt that my playing doctor all those years ago was just that. I suddenly had no need to pretend to be anything other than what I am today…a homeschooling mom of two, wife of one, blogger, and soon to be published author.
I am so glad you were feeling better by the time we landed. I meant you no harm, and if I could I would take back the thought that popped into my head as the plane lifted off…
“Man, do I need something exciting to happen so I have something to write about.”
From the bottom of my heart, thank you and I’m sorry.