So, the end of my Michigan trip did not go as expected. On the last day at the cottage, I woke up at 6 AM, which is WAY early for me (I’m an 11 AM girl preferably). I felt kind of sick, so I figured maybe I had a hangover from the tropical martini I had at dinner the night before. I drank some water and ate two Advils and laid back down.
Then I got sick. I showered, dressed, and threw up some more. I thought about my worst hangover ever, which occurred in the middle of the afternoon after day-drinking with Scott’s company at a bowling alley. I don’t get a lot of hangovers (a) because I’m still in my 20s, (b) I don’t drink a lot in general, and (c) every time I get even the slightest hangover I quit drinking for months. I’ve never had a hangover where I threw up before, so something wasn’t adding up.
My aunt and uncle encouraged me to drink some milk to settle my stomach, which I did. We had to drive back to Grand Rapids that morning before the next guests got to my aunt and uncle’s cottage, so we loaded up the car and headed out. My flight home was at 4, so we were going to drive home, hang out for a few hours, and take me to the airport. I sat completely still and my aunt kindly didn’t talk the whole hour-long drive back to Grand Rapids, which must have sucked.
At this point, I knew I was really sick.
We pulled up to their house and I wandered over to the edge of the driveway. I threw up, and barely managed to change into sweatpants and get myself onto the couch. I laid on the couch shivering and getting up to throw up for the next two hours until my aunt and uncle gently suggested I was NOT fit to travel.
“You’re barely walking in a straight line when you walk to the bathroom,” my uncle said. “You’re not going to be able to walk through two airports.”
“You’re an adult, we don’t want to make this decision for you. But you’ll probably regret traveling in this condition…” my aunt added. I thought of all the other people I could get sick if I traveled, and that the worst thing ever would be throwing up like this trapped in a middle seat. I wasn’t able to hold down WATER!
They generously rebooked my broke ass on a cheaper flight out of Detroit in a few days. That meant my uncle would have to DRIVE me from Grand Rapids to Detroit, which meant 4 hours in a car for him. I’d be in Michigan until Thursday, which seemed like a lot longer (I never want to overstay my welcome!), but they were right that I’d need a few days to recoup and heal up. I couldn’t even put crackers or ginger ale on my stomach without throwing up.
Once the new flight was booked, I was flooded with relief. And nausea, of course. I stumbled upstairs to “my” room and promptly fell asleep for six hours with my plastic bag next to me.
I didn’t eat a thing until Tuesday morning, when I felt a little better and managed to hold down some ginger ale and then chicken noodle soup. I’ve never had a glass of ginger ale before, and it was delicious. I drank so much ginger ale that week.
By Wednesday, I was basically all better. I got lunch with my aunt. She and I had some great talks this trip and I learned a lot about my family. I may not have cousins or a big family, like Scott does, but I think I got the way better deal.
MY REAL LAST NIGHT: PIZZA!
I recovered, and we went out for pizza on my last night in Michigan. We went to a restaurant featured on the Food Network and ordered a nice, garlicky pie.
My aunt and I took one final pic together. Can you see how happy I was to be out of the house and able to eat and standing in the warm night air? Being sick REALLY makes you appreciate being healthy, and I was only out of commission for two days.
I even got to see their grocery store, Meijer. Good prices and even more stuff than Target!
But wait! The drama isn’t over!
On Thursday, my uncle and I drove out of Grand Rapids to Detroit. It was a cloudy day, and my bag was stuffed to the brim with books and clothes and a cool mug for Scott. I said goodbye to their dog Lola, who was very concerned about my well-being while I was the resident sick patient, and came this-close to spilling coffee on my white shirt. We had awesome talks about evolution and his life in Michigan, and the drive went pretty quick. Detroit airport was under construction and was crazy confusing, but we made it to departures on the second try.
I got onto my first flight right away, which was delayed getting into the air.
Okay, this is fine, I thought. We’re only fifteen minutes delayed.
Then when we were about to begin our initial descent into Atlanta, the pilot announced that we had to circle for a while and wouldn’t be landing for another twenty minutes because of weather.
Oh, god. Weather. At least that meant my next flight might be delayed, too.
The SECOND we landed, I looked up my next flight. It was delayed, too!
But as you can see from the screenshot, boarding was at 4:20. And I was on the plane at 4:25, lined up back in row 22 waiting to deplane. The guy in my row let me out first, and I proceeded to do one of my favorite/least favorite things.
I ran through the Atlanta airport!
I was SO grateful I’ve been interval running lately, because I was straight up running UP the escalator to the next terminal with a 40 pound backpack on me (why did I have so many books with me??), and then running to Gate C from Gate A. I was wearing my leather clogs (not my preferred running shoes) and barely had time to observe the weird, dark jungle motif the Atlanta airport has going on as some kind of art instillation. I was too busy yelling at little old ladies to PLEASE EXCUSE ME. Eventually I found a crazy looking European family that was also running full tilt through Gate C, and took off with them. It’s always nice to run through an airport in a group- it takes the experience from stressful to right out of Home Alone!
I practically skidded to a stop at my gate, which was STILL BOARDING!!
I got in line, and got on the plane to finally, finally, finally take me home.
After all that, my checked bag did NOT make it to Austin!
Delta told me they assumed there was NO way I was making it on that flight, so they sent my bag to me the next day. Whatever! I took that as a compliment. Most people wouldn’t have made it on that flight. Physical fitness is important- mostly just so you’re ready to run a mile through a crowded airport at any second!