Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Breathing in the Windy City

So, here I was in Chicago in June of 1982. I was at the National DECA Conference with some other students and my Mom chaperoning. However, she didn't helicopter over me. I was pretty much free to do as I pleased.

The only exception was that Mom forced me to go with her and some of the other DECA teachers to Jimmy Wong's Chinese Restaurant. I was the only student there. I had never really eaten Chinese food before (too many onions), and even though Jimmy Wong's was acknowledged as the best Chinese restaurant in Chicago, it just didn't taste very good. I did like the egg rolls, some of the meat dishes that I was able to scrape the vegetables off of and the fortune cookies. (I have since refined my palate, but I don't think I have really eaten Chinese food since then.)

Since I didn't have to worry about taking tests or being judge in role-playing like I was at the state level, I had all day to do touristy things. I went to the Sears Tower. I walked all over the section of the city where the hotel was. I hit up the record stores and made a few purchases of albums I couldn't get in New Mexico. I ate pizza by the slice for lunch every day.

One day, I noticed something strange. I sensed that I could actually taste the air. If I breathed in, it felt like I had inhaled a cloud. It was almost like I had to put some effort into breathing. I still ran around during the day. Once I got back to the hotel, it was easier to breath.

The next morning, all of the delegates were going to spend the day at Marriott's Little America. While our group was getting ready, we were listening to the radio. The announcer said that according to the pollution levels the day before, the air was deemed "unfit" to breathe and even more unhealthy not to breathe. I didn't think it was going to have much of an impact on me, but it did. We got on the bus to take us to the theme park. I was seated next to this girl from Alaska. The bus ride was supposed to be about 90 minutes. About a half-hour in, I started feeling bad in my gut. I really needed to go to the bathroom. I didn't know how far it was to the park. I was afraid I was going to have to ask the bus driver to stop the bus and let me out. I then wondered if there was a bathroom on the bus. I looked at the back. THERE WAS! I immediately ran back there. I saw the look on the faces of a couple of students who watched me go in. I didn't care what they thought.

After I relieved myself, I went back to my seat. Prior to my leaving, the girl from Alaska had fallen asleep. She woke up and wondered where I was because the bus was completely full and there were no empty seats. Everything was fine until we got to the park. I started feeling uneasy again. Once inside, I found a directory and located the nearest bathroom. However, it was very difficult for me to walk without feeling like I was going to lose control of my bowels. I started walking on my tippy-toes and made it to the bathroom. One of the other students from my school saw me having difficulties and came into the bathroom to check on me. I told him I would be okay.

I checked into the nurse's station so I could get some Pepto-Bismol, which I thought would make me feel better. However, the nurse said that since I was 17, they were not authorized to give me any kind of medicine, including Pepto-Bismol. I told her she could page out for my mother, who was at the park. They tried, but Mom never responded. I laid there for about 15 minutes before I decided it was futile to get anything done. I left without telling anyone.

This marked a major turning point in my life. I decided there and then that if I couldn't have medication at that point in my life, I would never seek medication again, not even aspirin. I wouldn't even take Pepto-Bismol. I actually went about 17 years without seeing a doctor. (I didn't even go to the doctor when I thought I had cracked a rib. I was in pain for three weeks, but I still didn't go see a doctor.)

So the rest of the day, I didn't go on any rides. I just walked around the park, played video games, ate pizza and did all the stuff that didn't require me to be strapped in. I should add that the air quality was extremely good that day compared to the day before, so I didn't run the risk of getting sick again. Since the other students had spent all day at the hotel, they didn't experience the poor air quality like I did, so they didn't get sick. Mom got mad at me for wasting a lot of money on video games. I regret not going on the rides because that would be my only visit to Little America for the rest of my life. (But I had just been to Six Flags Over Mid-America for the third time in five years a week and a half earlier on the way to Muncie, IN, so it wasn't like I felt like I was missing out on anything.)

Leaving Chicago, we got on the flight to take us to Dallas, from which we would depart to go to Amarillo before driving home to Artesia. This was the first time I had been on a major airline in 11 years. I was in the middle of the section. I was so worn out from the previous two weeks that I absolutely crashed. When I woke up, all the people around me were finishing their breakfasts and the flight attendants were taking away their plates. I asked the attendant if I could have my breakfast. She said they weren't serving breakfast any more. I asked why someone didn't wake me up for breakfast. She said it was the airline policy not to wake sleeping passengers. We were still more than two hours from landing in Dallas. I asked if they were going to serve lunch. No, the flight was not going to be that long. There was not going to be any food. I'm certain they had a plate of food they could have just handed to me, but they wouldn't do it.

The bad thing is that I don't remember the name of the airline, but I'm pretty certain I've never flown with them again. That's easy to do when you mostly fly Southwest all the time.

When we left Chicago, I had no money left. When we got to Dallas, I had to beg Mom for money so I could get something to eat. I think I got a hamburger from Burger King. I didn't want to think about it.

Dad and Loyd met us at the airport in Amarillo with the camper. Everybody just slept the whole way home. I ran into just about everyone who went on that trip a few times when I came home from college the next few years. After I graduated, I kept seeing less of them until they almost didn't exist. They were people I didn't really have a problem with. I was just very indifferent about them.

Despite all the issues, this was still a great time in my life. I'll have a little more about this girl I tried to hook up with at the conference in tomorrow's post. She deserves her own article.

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