Vacation time?   Travelling by air?

Flying in an airplane is an immersion into germ warfare.

 

I have never actually crawled inside a giant caterpillar, but boarding an airplane might be a fair comparison. Claustrophobia surfaces as I attempt to negotiate the narrow aisle.

I patiently wait as the passenger in front of me attempts to squeeze her carry-on into the already crammed full overhead. I smile and say, “No rush” (I am not anxious to reach my seat numbered 22C). She thanks me and relaxes a little.

I can’t sit in a middle seat. I need the aisle to stretch my legs.  The window seat is a second choice, as I can extend my space into the clouds. Flying inside a cloud fog is outright boring, but flying above the clouds conjures images of dog sleds racing over snow. On a clear day I like the descent, trying to spot that first sign of life below. As we descend I think, “If we crashed now, would we make it?” I wish I didn’t think like that. So the window is not my favorite either.

That leaves the aisle seat as my first choice. I tuck myself into the tiny mold, extend the seat belt straps to fit around me, pondering over how small the belt is and how skinny the person before me must have been. My legs have nowhere to go. I retrieve my book, Sudoku, earphones and bottled water from my backpack, cramming my possessions into the seat pocket in front of me to mark my space.

I then jam my backpack under the seat where my feet should go. My husband (he takes the middle seat and never complains) already has his book out and we haven’t even twirled around the runaway yet.

Now uncomfortably settled, my attention shifts to the ‘air expulsions’ beginning to explode around me. A cough. A sneeze. A wheeze. Throat clearings. A baby howl. Another sneeze.

I strain to retrieve my squished backpack and accidently almost trip the flight attendant with my errant foot. “Sorry”.
I reach for my silver spray in the backpack folds. The coughs, the sneezes and wheezes are competing for air space. Too close, too crowded, too crammed. The war has begun.

I spritz my face, willing the spray into my nose, my open eyes and my mouth. I spray my hands again. I have already vaporized myself once while waiting in the airport boarding area, but this sudden onslaught of germs reminds me do it again, just to make sure.

I believe silver kills the germs. The germs that linger for up to 3 days in your eyes, your nose, your throat, waiting, proliferating, preparing to take you down.

I never get sick when I travel. Touch wood. I fly with silver*.
Do you have any tricks up your sleeve to protect yourself when you fly?

* I buy my silver in Toronto. It can also be purchased in most health food stores. (Usually colloidal silver) Do your research. You might decide you don’t want to risk the ‘silver look’, but you would have to OD, so I do not really think it should be a concern. I do not plan on taking enough silver to be worth anything.

 

Commentaires