One time many moons ago I was on a flight to Fort Myers, Florida, and the whole state was basically socked in with fog. It really doesn't matter what time of year you go to Florida. If you're flying in at night, there's going to be fog, because the whole state is just a big swamp. Humans got cocky and paved over some of it, but they never should have done that. Florida is an awful place that makes people do crazy things, and I blame the evil humours that rise out of the swamps.
We were stuck circling for about an hour. Looking out the window, I could see dozens of other airplanes circling, too, and the ground was just a white cloud. We were eventually diverted to Fort Lauderdale and bused in to Fort Myers over Alligator Alley. The same night an enormous pileup killed several people on that same road because THE FOG, people.
Florida doesn't have jack shit to do with what I'm trying to get at here. I just wanted to make the point that I'm stuck in a holding pattern, dudes. I guess it's of my own making. I elected to have a natural miscarriage. It's just that the dead embryo inside me shows no sign of wanting to get the hell out. I decided I'll give it another week before I forcibly evict it.
But what this means is that the hermit in me -- and I'm really about 70% hermit -- gets to be super-hermity and stay home and wait for this shiz to happen. I'm not going anywhere. No, I am not going to your party. No, I don't wanna hang out with you. Yes, I'd like to stay in, eat ice cream, have diarrhea, and wait.
I considered making a miscarriage kit and taking a picture of it and posting it to the blog but then I decided that was too morbid. The kit was going to include my iPhone and earphones so I can listen to music while this crap goes down. Also: Vicodin, a comfortable shirt-dress, ice cream, tissue, my kindle, and maybe a voodoo doll dressed up like my doctor. I would probably be the only one who would think it was a little funny though.
So I guess I won't make a miscarriage kit, OK? I'll just do what I've been doing and sit around, waiting. Maybe I'll google some more ways to naturally induce labor. There are some annoying pressure points on your feet that are supposed to do the trick but so far they haven't been worth shit. I've been eating lots of spicy food and ... nothing. Other than the aforementioned diarrhea. There's a tea -- red raspberry leaf tea -- that is supposed to help. Ironically this tea is supposed to also help you get pregnant, which would explain why I'm well-stocked with the nasty-tasting stuff.
The airplane -- the one stuck in the holding pattern -- was not full. I was flying from Philadelphia. There were mostly elderly people on the plane and I'd had a glass of wine that was rapidly wearing off. I felt a little insane. I hate flying. I hate being stuck in a place where I feel helpless. This feels the same; the dread, the waiting. Eventually we'll land. I just hope it's not foggy when I get there.