Preboarding. A wonderful family gets on. An elderly gentleman, his wife and what appears to be their daughter. Great folks. He is a lucky man. They are attentive to his every need. He boards in a wheelchair, sits in the first row, aisle side. The daughter stands in front of him during the whole boarding process to protect him from being hit by the other passengers because he bruises easily. Fine. Why isn't he sitting in the middle or window seat again? Then she asks me if I could try not to bump into him during the flight so as to not hurt his spleen. Sure. Spleen? I don't even know where the spleen is in the body. But now that she had made me aware he has an issue, I'm am doomed to harm it in some way. I'm not sure what the spleen's function is except I vaguely remember a silly movie with PeeWee Herman. It has something to do with a noxious bodily function. His super power was farting and they called him The Spleen. Well, that was definitely this man's super power. Almost knocked out everyone in the first four rows! Not only that but he then proceeds to throw up his breakfast. You may find this hard to believe, but after almost 16 years flying, I haven't had to clean up puke. I'm a vomit virgin. Sorry, WAS a vomit virgin until today. Not that people don't hurl on my plane, I've just always been lucky enough to work with people that rush to clean it up. I love those people. It wasn't bad. Not as bad as my imagination had made it out to be. He must not have had much to eat. In fact, I suspect it may have been an apple fritter. The flight attendant I'm working with has a wicked sense of humor. She's evil I'm sure. Every time she catches my eye, her fingers are on her carotid artery, she calls my section the ICU and every move my nice elderly gentleman makes (or doesn't) is a sign of death. Now, if you haven't already guessed by my March blog, I'm a worst case scenario kind of gal. It's not an itch, I have shingles. It's not a headache but encephalitis. Bit by a mosquito? Surely it's West Nile Virus. I am working on a flying petri dish people. It's a wonder I don't do service wearing a disposable paper suit. I'm talking mask with a shield, gloves like they use birthing calves and full body armor. I would love to have one of those Silkweed spray rooms installed in my house. But instead I take every opportunity to build up my immune system by working on airplanes and sleeping in hotel rooms. My coworker, or Satan as I like to call her, has informed me that flight attendants are number 7 on the top ten dirtiest things to come in contact with. Where she gets her information I'm not entirely sure but I think she's pretty close. The airplane is disgusting hence we are disgusting. Handles, latches, overhead bins, luggage, seatbelts, trash, armrests, pilots etc. Every single thing we touch is a cesspool of disease and all things nasty. Case in point, where I scooped up coagulated vomit not 2 hours before.... there's another man sitting there with his computer bag at his feet. No idea whatsoever what it is sitting in.
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