Training Camp - Day One
A Series of Unfortunate Events
What a day. Lets start at the beginning. It was a Saturday. I had driven up to Edmonton with my mom the previous night as I had an interview at the UofA in the morning. I was pretty nervous - this was my third year applying for the Master of Science in Physiotherapy. I ended up waking up at 5am to throw up, attempted to go back to sleep and then gave up at 6:30am. I managed to force feed myself a bagel before driving over to the UofA.
Interview wise - I am pretty content with how it went. I felt good about several questions, rambled a bit on others, and took a slightly aggressive stance on the one. We shall see what happens.
After the interview I was starving, so we headed over to Olive Garden. It was 11 o’clock so I was hoping that most of the food would be digested by the time I got on the plane. We had about an hour to kill before I had to be at the airport so we parked at a park and went for a walk.
The chapter where it all begins to go downhill:
At the airport the nerves started to kick in pretty bad. As I was going through customs I started to cry a little bit which resulted in me having to get my bag double checked. Once in the terminal I immediately started sucking back ginger ales and gravel lasagnes.
I boarded the plane and was in 5C an aisle seat. I don’t like window seats because I hate looking out the window and seeing how high up we are. I spent the entire take off repeating to myself in my head: Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
Once we were air born I sort of calmed down. I was able to turn on the TV in front of me and watch a little bit. About an hour in to the three hour flight I knew I was in trouble. Ridiculous waves of nausea and dizziness hit me. I spent the remaining two hours repeating to myself: Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up.
Finally it was time to land. Praise baby Jesus. As soon as we landed I hopped up, grabbed my bags and literally ran into the airport to the nearest bathroom and was sick everywhere. So here I am, first time in Las Vegas, sitting in a bathroom, crying and throwing up steady for a solid 15minutes. How could things possibly get worse? (spoiler - they do)
My next mission was to find my bus that would take me St. George. I manage to collect myself, leave the bathroom, and head outside. I saw taxis, limos, and buses that aren’t mine. I eventually found security and asked them for help - apparently my bus is at terminal 1 and I am at terminal 3. In order to get to terminal 1 I had to take another bus, which is about a kilometre away from my current location. Dizzy, nauseous and panicking I speed walked/ran to the bus stop. I hop on, its 7:00, I have 15minutes to catch my second bus. We drive for what seems like hours and we pull into the bus terminal at 7:13. The bus driver tells me my bus will be at stop 17 - except there is no bus at stop 17. Apparently it left early - without me. Hello panic attack. I’m in a foreign city, by myself, in the middle of some massive bus terminal with no actual buildings nearby, and am stranded. I call Coach Lisa and she manages to find another bus with a different company heading to St. George at 7:50. There are 2 seats left and I can potentially take one of them. I find that bus and walk up to the driver to ask if I can catch a ride. He says he has to call his supervisor to confirm - while this is happening another guy approaches wanting my seat (there apparently was only one seat left). This individual was supposed to take the 9 o’clock bus with the same company but since there was an available seat was called and offered the earlier ride. The bus driver gets off the phone and is a little hesitant but says if I can pay upfront I can have the seat - that is until the guy starts to say that it is his seat. I can tell the bus driver is about to give away my seat to this other guy - I start to hysterically cry and am given the last seat. I am finally on my way to St. George! The bus driver hands out water and trail mix. I decide I should probably try to eat something - nope, horrible idea. We make a pit stop at some casino to let off one of the seniors and I take the opportunity to find a bathroom and throw up (seriously considering doing a collage of the bathrooms of Nevada/Utah). I manage to doze a little bit the rest of the way and finally reach my destination.
Coach Lisa picks me up. The troubles are over! (haha ok). Extreme dizziness hits me the entire drive to Lisa’s place and I’m once again reduced to telling myself over and over again in my head: Don’t throw up. As soon as I get to Lisa’s I go right to bed, hoping to wake up ready to go.
Current time: As I’m writing this it is Sunday morning. I was supposed to join my teammates for a nice long bike ride, but instead I am stuck in bed. Everytime I sit up the room violently spins. I’ve attempted to consume some cheeros and a banana. So far I haven’t thrown this up yet (fingers crossed). Flying is officially the worst mode of transportation and from now on I am driving everywhere. I'm convinced that I am on some type of Truman show - no one's life is this ridiculous. Heres to hoping I’m able to leave my bed before noon.