Irrationality and Air Travel

I flew down to Houston this afternoon, apparently just ahead of the craptacular weather that took over LR this evening.  Honestly, I detest flying.  I'm not really sure why, but but I have a hard time getting through a flight without being nervous.  On a day like today, when I knew there were thunderstorms in the area through which we'd be flying, I was nervous before getting on the plane (if it had been already raining, I would've just given up and driven).  We hit a few bumps on the way up, and you could feel the wind blowing the plane around in the sky, but it certainly wasn't the worst weather I've ever flown in.  Regardless, until we cleared all the storms in southern Arkansas and got above the clouds, I had a hard time keeping my heart rate down. 

I know that the odds are against my ever being in a plane crash.  I know that air travel is exceedingly safe these days.  But at the same time, I knew someone in college who was killed in a plane crash, which sort of nullifies some of the more rational arguments.  After that happened, there was a period of time during which I was completely petrified to fly.  During this period, J and I planned a trip to Hawaii (I might have been terrified of flying, but I guess wanted to see Hawaii more).  So I had this great plan on how I was going to handle the flight.  The trip from LR to Hawaii required us to change planes in LA, so I figured if I could just suck it up on the flight from LR to LA, I had some great meds that I would take in LA that would knock me out for the longer flight over to HI.  (I'm not big on medicine as a general rule, but desperate times...).

So, we boarded the flight in LR and  I managed to hold it together for the flight out to LA.  As we were landing in LA, I took the medicine that I was hoping would knock me out for the flight from LA to HI (phinergan in case you are curious - a half tablet will render me loopy and sleepy for hours).   We disembarked in LA to catch our connecting flight when catastrophe hit - the flight from LA to HI was delayed.  For an undetermined period of time.  Right after I took the medicine that was supposed to knock me out for the next several hours.
 
I have a vague recollection of being in the LA airport, propped up on J's shoulder, drooling all over the place and struggling to remain upright.  This plays in a kind of continuous loop for the length of time we were in the LA airport.  FIVE HOURS later, we boarded our plane to HI.  By then - the medicine was beginning to wear off, I was once again coherent enough to be petrified of flying, and I couldn't take any other medicine for several hours.  Let's just say I learned a valuable lesson about air travel on that trip...

These days, most of my flights are of much shorter duration - an hour to an hour and a half typically; maybe an occasional three hour trip to Vegas.  For a long time, I was able to get past the fear, and flying didn't bother me at all.  But for some reason, ever since I've had kids, flying makes me at the very least nervous, and on some days more than a little frightened.  Today was just one of those days when the nerves and irrationality got the better of me.