When I was a kid, I was an army brat and I flew all over the world – Several of those times, my sister Denise and I would fly unaccompanied, she was 12 and I was 8. We would be put into the care of flight attendants as we flew from Africa to the U.K., via exotic places like Rome and Entebbe.

When I was in my thirties, I suddenly developed a terrible phobia of flying. I know, it’s quite common these days, but it’s a real bitch when 90 percent of your family live on a different continent.

For thirty years I have flown to the UK whenever it was important enough to warrant my near-overdosing on Xanex, a tipple of Bailey’s (okay a bunch) at the airport lounge and crossing the Atlantic in a semi-coma. But I have successfully avoided any other flying whenever it would not threaten a relationship. I have also racked up zillions of miles of American highways.

The other phobia I have (besides eating veggies) is driving in ice/snow. I had to do it for years. Again, for some unknown reason, something changed in my thirties, that caused me to have a fear of driving in snow. I have dodged having to drive in icy or snowy conditions, by being lucky and also befriending people who are daft enough to actually ‘enjoy’ that kind of awful weather. This is one of the few times I am more than willing to play my helpless & pathetic card. I’ve taken cabs, lived near bus routes, and all but taken a sleeping bag to work so I wouldn’t have to stress about the weather and driving in ice.

I have some family in the USA – My children live in Colorado and Arizona – my step-son in Minnesota, my niece in St. Louis and my nephew in Seattle…..none particularly close to Oklahoma, and all a fair distance away. Other than Seattle, I have driven to them all!

So this month, my babysitting help was needed in Colorado. As always, I am thrilled to see the grandkids, but I was really wigging…..It’s a quick ten-hour drive to where they live, and normally that’s how I’d roll. But it’s COLORADO…..…a place that has snow in winter….oh, and it’s February……soooooo reluctantly, I had to book a flight.

The week before I was due to leave I began to get nervous. The day before I was due to leave I spent the day trying to avoid an anxiety attack….

I tried to think about everyone else I know that flies all the time (my grandkids included), you know, birds, sky-divers, bugs…but nothing really worked. I focused on my grandkids, okay that did help, but the nagging pulse in my forehead still throbbed.

Enter Gump. He’s really a crap psychologist…..whenever he attempts to help me with my anxiety, he somehow manages to make it far worse. I end up getting sick to my stomach, and then thinking about all the wrong things he has mistakenly said. I then spend the next twenty minutes telling him what he should have said. Ugh…But he means well?

Consequently, by the time Gump dropped me off at the airport, I had 0.5mg of Xanex in my blood stream and my synapses were still firing panic alerts throughout my brain. I checked my bag, got through security and immediately needed the loo. My eyesight was getting a bit blurry, I even thought I looked younger and slimmer when I stood at the sink rinsing my hands…..obviously the drugs were kicking in. Time to park my bum close to the departure gate.

That accomplished, I took some more medication, hoping everyone around me thought it was aspirin, and couldn’t see me for the coward that I really am.

I attempted to read a magazine even with my poor vision, and then finally gave up and looked at all the other passengers instead. Were they all as terrified as me? Were they all drugged up like me? Most of them were sitting around looking at their phones, or stuffing the icky kind of food no one should eat prior to getting into a small, metal, confined space. I shuddered, and then looked away. My brain tried to think, my meds slowed it down. I reminded myself that at least I was flying in good weather, and also in the dark…always better as it is so much harder to see the ground as you hurtle towards it.

The pilot arrived at the gate, and I felt a little better. He looked old and experienced, he did not appear to be drunk, or on the same medication as me.

The flight really wasn’t too bad. My seat-mate was unfriendly and wearing headphones. I alternated between needing to pee and throw up with nerves, but instead focused on my childish iPad game, and the expressions upon the faces of the flight attendants. When turbulence started, I stared harder at both the aforementioned, wished I’d taken more drugs, or had wings. But everything was okay, we landed safely, and the pilot did a great job.

The next morning I was Nana In Charge. No sooner had my son and daughter-in-law headed to the airport for their getaway, than it started to snow! I was so cavalier about it. The kids both ride a school bus, so there was no need for me to drive anywhere! The groceries were in the fridge, I had a good stash of chocolate, we were good to go!

It snowed all day

then it snowed all night……..

The news reports said the roads were very icy, there had been a lot of wrecks….Not my concern…hoorah! I had on rubber boots so traction was no problem as I traversed the roads…well actually sidewalks with the kids……I felt quite happy, snapping pretty, snowy photos on the walk back from the school bus to the house. I came in, made a hot cup of tea…I pretended I was from Colorado, and this was ‘just another snowy day’…..I made the beds, another cup of tea, and then fired up the lap top to download some pics.

The phone rang, I answered. It was the secretary at my 10 year-old grandson‘s school.

“Is this Nana?”

For one moment, I almost lied and said she had the wrong number. But I didn’t, I told her I was Nana.

She sighed and then told me that my grandson had accidentally ripped open his pants, and that I needed to come to the school with another pair as he would have to hide in her room until then.

My stomach churned…Oh No…….Dear God…….PANIC

  1. I didn’t know where the school actually was.
  2. I have never driven my daughter-in-law’s vehicle…how do you put it into 4 wheel drive?
  3. I couldn’t find an ice scraper, instead I used my handy Reasor’s Rewards card (no points though)
  4. Did I mention that it had SNOWED and there was ICE and I was TERRIFIED?

What were my choices? Let me help you with that…there were NONE-Zip-Zero…this was my grandbaby….I’d do anything to help him. So off I went, teeth gritted, frowning in concentration (I am sure I have a new wrinkle) bladder squeezed into the size of a pea, and every hair on the nape of my neck standing upright.

I got lost, and as I drove around in circles I called my new friend at the school and the kind lady talked me in. By the time I dropped off the pants and chugged home, I’d driven about 8 miles.

My testicles were HUGE! I was Nanuk of the North baby….a geriatric snow bunny….and I had the wet socks to prove it.

So I guess the moral of my story is this….

In 48 hours I flew in a plane, and then drove in the snow – two things I avoid at any cost. Except when it is for the people that I love. So I won’t be doing this every day, but chuffed to pieces that I made it through both unscathed!

I still want to live by the beach….

Jude the snow-bunny