This week I'll be mostly unconscious on a plane

Erm, where am I?

Back in 2006 I was on the Flybe Exeter to Jersey.  We were about 10 minutes from landing when I started feeling decidedly unwell.  I mean, quite definitely not very well at all in quite a big way.  I frantically worked out where the sick bag was.  Next thing I knew, we'd landed, the plane was empty, and a flight attendant was saying in mono "excuse me sir, are you ok?"  As her voice came back into stereo, I mumbled something, got up and staggered off the plane.  I felt like death warmed up.  I must've looked bad too, because I got stopped by airport security on the way out.

Well that was a bit odd.

Next week same thing.  10 minutes to go, hot, need some air, need the sick bag, need to lie down, everything's gone black and white, can't hear, oh, I think I'm going to ...

Now I'm a bit freaked out.

I went to the doctor.  Long and short of it was that my blood pressure is so stupidly low that I can't stay conscious when the plane is depressurising.  I should get my blood pressure up by having some sugary and salty and fatty stuff to eat before I get on the plane.  Like a mars bar, a packet of crisps, a bacon sandwich and a nice hot cup of tea.  And no, I can't get the bacon sarny on prescription.

So that's how it was for the next year or so.  Scoff down a bacon roll in the Exeter airport restaurant, wash it down with a cuppa, get on the plane, and maybe be fine, or maybe not.  Great.  You get used to it.  You can even sleep through it.  Seriously, I could go to sleep to the sound of "...your life jacket is under your seat, if required, remove it from its container blah blah blah", and wake up 45 minutes later dripping in sweat to the sound of "...on behalf of Captain Johnson-Deeley and the crew, we wish you a pleasant onward journey."  Even to this day, if I hear the words "we also carry children's floatation equipment" I can be asleep in under 1 minute, expecting to find in less than three quarters of an hour that I'm feeling like I've been run over and looking like I've just taken a bath.

In 2008 I stopped all that mucking about for a few years and walked to work like normal people do.

Now I'm back on the planes again.  Jersey to Southampton.  Flybe.  Same old captain Johnson-Deeley and the crew wishing me a pleasant onward journey.  Nowadays checking the sick bag has just become part of the pre-flight routine: switch off the phone, put the Autosport in the seat pocket, arm rests down, tray tables upright, check where the sick bag is.  But all that aggro with the unconsciousness is in the past, just a bad dream - admittedly a really bad dream followed by a severe headache and a long sit down and a change of shirt at the earliest opportunity - but a dream all the same.

And then out of the blue we're starting our decent one Monday morning and, ah, I feel not unlike I'm about to barf, and, oh no, not this again, I hate this, I really am not in the mood for ...

...

"...hello?  Excuse me?  Are you ok?  Would you like a glass of water?"  No, I would not like a glass of water.  I'd just like to go to work without having a poxy medical emergency every time I leave the house!  Is that too much to ask?