Skip to main content

Pattie and Our Nerve Pill Plane Crash

About 4 a.m. this morning, Pattie - my best buddy from high school - and I were in a plane crash.


Relax - don't panic - we're safe! It's almost 8 a.m. the next morning and I'm sitting right here on my sofa drinking a cup of Green Mountain Nantucket coffee and writing this event just as it happened. Or not


First of all Pattie and I have never been on a plane together. If we had it would be the best plane ride ever. All we have to do is look at each other and we smile. WE used to burst out laughing but now that we're old so we just smile! WE had so much fun in school it was sinful. Either playing pranks, getting the boys in trouble, or gossiping. Nearly every day, the teacher would call out, "Bobbie Null and Patti Jones, move those seats A-PART NOW and STOP that talking. Like talking was dirty. I guess she didn't see the laughing!!! So at the end of each day I'd be up front in my little wooden desk near the teacher and Pattie would be in back, or the other way around and neither of us were happy. At all.


But as I said earlier, I got up to go to the bathroom at about 3:15, having no idea that I was about to have this incredible journey with Pattie.  I got back into my warm bed and  curled into a fetal position which is how I sleep. Now, it's very painful to get out of bed in the morning because my  bones are not fetal friendly.


Off off off I drifted.


 Lately I haven't  slept well nor do I dream much, not well anyway and not fun dreams featuring me and Pattie. Though this one was not completely fun.


Note: recently my doctor recommended a pink nerve pill to help me rest at night and to help me unclench my jaw which has been permanently clenched for two months. All right, so it's been three or four. So, at 10 p.m. that night, like a good patient,  I took one of the pink pills.


And there we were, me and Pattie flying through the friendly skies, attendants or whatever they call those people who show passengers how to inflate the vests in case you fall into the water - I was hoping not to come into contact with any water since I can swim only two to three feet at a time - okay two feet, and those things that fall out of the ceiling if you lose air pressure. Which I am positive that neither Pattie or I know how to operate. WE mostly like fun things.

We were not doing any of those things. 

We were deciding which ugly uniform to wear. Once dressed and in the air we learned that we had to stop in Chicago on our way to Charleston, West Virginia. Neither Pattie or I wanted to stop in Chicago. I don't remember why. We were running up and down the aisle of the plane smiling and talking when we noticed we were going DOWN, not anywhere near the Chicago airport.

I ran and buckled myself into a seat beside of one of the passengers which I'm sure it was not where I was supposed to be sitting. But it was the closest seat to the exit and I was taking no chances.


Pattie had decided she could no longer tolerate her ugly uniform - not really believing we were actually going down and she had gone in search of something cuter to wear.

Truthfully, an expensive carry on had fallen at her feet and she was oohing and aahing over this red sequined number and the next thing I knew she came prancing out of the tiny cubicle of a rest room and I had to admit it really jazzed up her look. Plus it was the particular red that goes with her dark hair.


Meanwhile, the ride down was going pretty smooth until we hit a pond of water which was pretty shaky and a bit nerve wracking.  

Nothing fell off the plane and nothing burst into flames. My heart was beating like ninety. I don't remember anyone screaming. Yet nobody was joyful either except Pattie who had perched into a seat beside a nice looking business man type. Luckily the jazzy outfit had come with a pair of red designer stiletto's.


The next thing I knew someone was pulling the plane through the water with a barge like you see carrying coal on the Kanawha River (WV). Or it might have been some kind of pontoon as I am not up on boats. OR a lot of other things.


NOTE: I'm sleeping better now, my jaw is unclenched, my neck isn't stiff anymore and my stomach no longer in knots. I wonder how long the doc will want me to stay on those delightful pills? Forever??? I can only hope!


I can't wait to go to bed tonight. I'm thinking Pattie and I might take in a cruise.


Love you Pattie. Thanks for the memories.


Blessings to all of you as well.

Comments

  1. Oh Barbara, this is just to funny. Sounds like some of my dreams but you scared me for a second. I thought it was a real plane crash. So glad you're back.. Susie

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ok, a cruise will be lovely..and maybe you could take a new friend with you?? Just askin'..

    ReplyDelete
  3. You could take off from just about anywhere in the story above and write (following "what ifs") to a wonderful novel, short story ... or medicine poem.

    ReplyDelete
  4. What a dream! Keep taking those pills and you might have a best seller on your hands.

    ReplyDelete
  5. It is nice to dream. It is even better when you can dream about a dear friend. Hearing about the dream was fun.

    Isn't just crazy how we dream sometimes?

    ReplyDelete
  6. What a grand adventure! Maybe these little pink pills will give you some stories for publication along the way. :-)

    ReplyDelete
  7. When facebook bleeped off one day it trashed my first and best, of course, version of this story. But thankfully I'd saved a draft so put it back together again. I've never known facebook to completely wipe out a post. Have you? Anyway, I have many friends and what's more fun than discussing them and our adventures. Thanks for riding along.
    Blessings!

    ReplyDelete
  8. LOL Loved this story!!!
    I'm sorry your husband is having some health issues. I know what it feels like to not be able to sleep at night and dream some wild dreams. Hope tonight is good!

    ReplyDelete
  9. If you keep producing dreams like this, I hope you stay on the pills too! :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Shingles: not the roofing kind...

Just when I thought things could not get any worse at our house my husband R came down with shingles. On the day I had to be at the hospital in Columbus with one adult daughter in the morning and then go to Cincinnati to pick up her husband after his stomach surgery the day before, R gets up with a rash that had turned to blisters. We made a quick dash 40 miles away to our family Dr. for a check up and yes my diagnosis was correct. Shingles! So armed with two medications we headed to the medical center to see our daughter, then to Cincinnati to pick up her husband and then home to collapse and hope that that's the end of our downward spiral. I'm worn to a frazzle and so is R. No time for writing or fretting about writing. I do feel good knowing that I have some contest entries out (short stories and one novel) and will be working on my novel at least two days this coming week. I have my writers meeting on Monday at Great Expectations Cafe and Book Store and look for...

A Revolutionary New Diet...

Recently I went on a diet. Like most diets this one was scheduled around a major life event. My daughter's wedding. There would be no shopping for a mother-of-the-bride dress until the pounds came off. Typically I go on a diet on Monday and by Wednesday I've folded beneath the weight of a German chocolate cake. I've been hijacked by as little as a stale pink sugar wafer discovered in the dark recesses of the bread drawer. But this time things were going to be different. I could tell as I went to get the mail and discovered the first crocus of the season. Life was looking up. Even though an icy rain began to fall, my spirits weren't dampened. Not even when huge drops pelted me on the head and I had to dash inside. My latest plan would revolutionize dieting. If it worked for me it would work for the world. I smelled a book deal. I could see myself all made-over and liposuctioned sitting between Oprah and Dr. Oz. It was full speed ahead. Gone were those complex menus...

Mother's Leather Britches...

My mother gardened all her life. It was one of her great loves, next to family, God, and country. Because she grew up during the Depression, she learned to use every last item from her garden for canning, preserving, drying or pickling. Every year at the end of the green bean season she made leather britches, dried beans that would keep for the winter. These were the last beans hanging on the vines. The beans inside had grown to full size with outsides a bit withered. They were beyond the stage to can or preserve, or even to pickle. Although her fried pickled green beans and corn bread were the best in the world. (Well, next to her biscuits and fried apples.) Mother started the drying process with clean beans. She would spread a clean white sheet on a table in the wash room and spread the beans out on that, giving them space to dry. Sometime she would carry the sheet outside and put them on a table in the sun to further the process. The next step involved needle and thread ...