Fear of flying

My mom says that when I was little I loved to fly. I used to cry when we had to drive from Oaxaca (where my parents had an apartment) to Mexico City (where they had their main house). She says I used to cry, shout and scream saying that I wanted to go in the plane. I have some memory of it too, of the first times I went to the U.S. with my mom, and I remember how much I enjoyed the view of the cities from the top, the meals that Not any more.

From the time I was a teenager up until now I have this terrible fear of flying. I hate it. Just to think that I have to fly in a few days would make me restless and make my hands sweat. I intellectually understand that have a big control issue, that I am a control freak, and that it makes me very uncomfortable to be in a situation in which I have no control at all.

Of course that I understand that my fear is irrational, that flying is the safest way of traveling, the most comfortable way of doing it, the faster way to get from one place to the other, that it is by far more dangerous to drive… etc, etc, But I still hate it.

So I have developed a few techniques to mitigate my fear and I intend to try some others in the course of this year. This is because, even though I hate flying, I intend to keep on doing it and I intend to do it a lot. I refuse to be stop by my fear, so this is what I do:

·        I try to think all the flights that depart and arrive in every single city of the world in a single day, even in a single hour; and I try to compare that huge undetermined amount to the times we hear about a major airliner accident; with that I come to the intellectual realization that the chances of me dying in a plane are next to zero. According to the website www.planecrashinfo.com, the odds of being killed on an airline flight are as low as 1 in 29.4 million, meaning one has to be really unlucky.

·        I have a couple of drinks before boarding. Of course I never need a huge excuse to drink a couple of glasses of wine and this really helps me relax a little before getting into my most feared mean of transportation. In the case of early flights I usually avoid the drinking thing. Even for someone like me the thought of a glass of Cabernet or a tequila shot at 7 a.m. is not that appealing.

·        I use the aid off other drugs when anxiety is really high. I remember one time that I had to have a head MRI and in order to make sure that I would not move the nurses gave an IV shot of Valium 10 mg. Oh my God! I recall being inside of that tiny, claustrophobic loud thing and thinking: “this is what I need for planes.” Next time I saw my neurologist brother I asked him if he could prescribe some Valium 10 for my flights, of course as a responsible doctor he said decline my request, but he provided me with a milder dose of an anti-anxiety drug called clonazepan. This works, but as said before I try to use it only when anxiety is high.

·        I also try to be informed. I read and educate myself about how bad weather rarely affects a flight, and on how when bad weather is really bad most airlines have strict rules and delay flights, I also have read on how turbulences may feel bad but are rarely dangerous, all this information helps me understand (at least in an intellectual level) that my fear of turbulences is unfounded. One good resource is the Ask the Pilot column (www.askthepilot.com), if interested read his column on turbulence, it is great.

·        And then I try to realize that I am not alone, that many people share this irrational fear with me, that even people that have to travel all the time share this with me and they still keep on flying. I now that scientists, actors, artists, film directors, politicians, musicians, people from every walk of life share this me and they continue to fly.

I intent to do the same; I want to fly and fly a lot! So I’ll get my two glasses of wine, a good book, a nice podcast and jump in any plane that would take me to all the places that I want to see in the future… even if they are very far away!

 

You are really fat!

I know I am carrying the extra pounds that the holiday’s parties left around my ever expanding waist, I know it! I know that I need a diet; I know I have to reduce my food and wine intake, and I know I need to go back to my daily running routine. I know all of that. But what I also know is that the last thing I need right now, during these very first month of the year in which I trying to pour all my positive energy on my resolutions… is for somebody to say “Hey, you are really fat!”

            Today, after the very difficult first 10 minutes of my morning run, I stumbled into a Cuba acquaintance who just said: “You are really fat,” and then continued: “Oh my God, you really gained some weight.” I put a very brave smile and tried to excuse myself: “well, you know… the Holiday parties, the food…” But he wanted to keep the conversation on the same theme: “I saw you running and I thought: ‘why in the world is she running, she is only getting fatter’?”

            After finally getting rid of the guy (and I didn’t killed him as I should have) I continued my run even with more motivation, but without the positive feeling that had accompanied my during the first minutes; now I was angry, frustrated, a little depressed, somewhat offended and very surprised that someone could be so rude.

            This is not the first time this thing happens to me here in Cuba (where we have been living for the last 4 and half years); it is actually the 5^th or the 6^th  time (at least). After the first couple of times I was greeted with the “you look fat” statement, I talked about it with a more experienced expat in the island, and she told that in here this is more a compliment than a negative critic.

            After the collapse of the Soviet Union, my friend said, most people in Cuba were extremely thin, there was little food in the stores and little money in the hands of the Cubans. Back then, to say that somebody looked fat was a compliment and many people say it as a compliment to this day. To say that you look fat is like to say that you look prosperous, that one can tell you eat well, that life is good to you. “Saying that you were fat was something good, not bad at all,” explains my housekeeper who nowadays is somewhat bothered when someone makes a comment about her weight.

            But even with those explanations I am still bothered when somebody calls me fat. I am all for body acceptance but I don’t need anybody to tell me I am bigger, I already know it, I am reminded every day by my tight fit clothing, by my scale, by the mirror… and I am taking steps to correct it, so please don’t rub it in my face.

            But the reason I am bothered by this comment is the fact that in the cultures I have lived and grown (Mexico and the U.S.A.) being fat is not synonymous with being prosperous; being fat is synonymous of being lazy, undisciplined, ugly, unhealthy and weak… among others. And that is why I consider that in any normal circumstance it is not nice to call anybody fat. In our culture gaining weight is bad and loosing weight is good.  The only exception is when there is a severe illness involved.

            So, knowing that in Cuba the word “fat” has another connotation makes me feel a little better, but just a little. Being called fat (no matter if you are a few pounds overweight or obese) is hurtful and rude.

            And yes, I know that many people that advocate for body acceptance (and as said before I am all for it) defend the word fat as something that should be said, accepted and embraced just as being called white, or black, or tall, or short… but it is not the same. The cultural connotation is too much.

            I recently read a blog entry by blogger Kate Harding, at Salon.com, she criticized those who called overweight people with euphemisms such as “big beautiful woman or person of size or voluptuous or plump or fluffy,” while trying to soften the word “fat.” I agree with Harding, who in the world wants to be called “fluffy”?! But I agree with her just to a point. She defends the word fat, and I believe neither that word nor the euphemisms should be used.

            As said before, the overweight person already know the situation, there is no need to rub it in her or his face. Why is it that the common sense norms of decorum hold us from going around telling people things such as: “hey, you have way more acne that the last time I saw you,” or “you really got old in the last two years,” or “you are getting kind of bald,” or “I never noticed you had so many wrinkles?” We don’t do it, because even if we think about it we know that a comment as such would hurt the other person. Well, the same with the word “fat” it hurts, and it does nothing to help in the situation.

            I just say lets avoid that adjective as much as possible, especially when talking to the persons’ face.  Let’s be nice to each other, and if we can’t say something like “hey, you look good,” let’s at least say something like “hey, good to see you running!”