14A Story Inspired by the word “Inflammation” (A G+ Project)
Reminds me of nursing. We care for all these individuals based on a mere assignment and yet we’re profoundly intertwined as two lives under the connection of care. And how most of those profound relationships do not continue. Such is a similar pattern during flight. The only other circumstance I can think of besides the above would happen in an elevator? Although everyone would need to be trapped in the elevator for a specific duration of time for it to have the same effect. Or a subway train.
Still the close quarters makes me a little apprehensive. I measure it during my flight. The space I have in my B seat is approximately three Nooks (digital tablet for online books) wide. I know because I placed my Nook on the tray table as soon as the seat belt sign was off and the table could be placed in the down position. So it’s fact because I measured it myself.
When was the last time you were three Nooks wide in a space with individuals you never met? Add to that you are vacillating through all these emotions of sheer joy for new beginnings and utter sadness for some endings too. It feels a little frenetic inside but as the years pass I realize the tightrope of emotions is life…the balance between achievement and loss. Both equal growth. Why doesn’t anyone teach us that in high school or college or in our twenties?
Our flight takes off. The gentleman to my right has a bit of an accent. Eastern European, I think. He seems content with his aisle seat and soon falls asleep after our Direct TV sample expired. “Nothing’s for free, right?” he comments to me as we each received a pop-up requesting a swipe of credit cards.
The gentlemen to my left is an attractive fella, mid-40’s, prominent bilateral arm veins, and he’s reading Details magazine. He offers me his Travel Magazine but I politely decline. My headphones are on. My plan is music. He continues to sniff each cologne sample in the magazine. One scent he wipes on each of his forearms. He feels like someone I could chat with about life in general, but I’m pretty sure he’s into dudes.
Me, I have one bar left on my iPhone to cram in as many very important songs as I can listen to on my iPhone after the flight attendants give us the OK to turn on approved electronic devices. When we get the OK, I listen to about ten to twelve songs each from different artists: Dido, Grateful Dead, The Shins, Rufus Wainwright, Radiohead are a few of them. Many songs I’ve been posting on sites lately. Songs that move me or remind me of certain time. Cathartic tones and lyrics.
And then at one point in my three Nook wide space I have to hide the fact that a couple of those songs make me a bit emotional for better and for worse. So there’s my test. In that tiny space I was forced to be alone with myself inflamed with emotion, to not freak out, to inconspicuously wipe the few tears dry and keep on flying. Deep breaths do wonders. The flight goes smoothly and being with myself in a small space brought some further insight. Weird how that happens. I didn’t plan for it. It happened all it’s own.
Now think about our patients confined to hospital beds and all that they must process in that small space. Perhaps with a roommate in the hospital bed next to them. What are they having to conceal? Are they joyful about an event they feel they need to keep to themselves? Are they wiping a few tears from their faces without anyone knowing? A lot can happen in a small space when you’re forced to be with yourself.
