17 February 2011, 23:07 PST

Same day
23:07 PST

I don't think my tongue will ever be the same again, and that's nothing compared to the state of my stomach and small intestine.

Ow. Jesus.

Well, we hit a bit of a snag, and the universe kind of collapsed on itself, but I remain cautiously optimistic. [Inversely, the *hell* I did, but at the very least, I apparently kept my sense of humour. This gets me through most things. Except old ladies on buses with strollers who run over people's feet, and then bitch loudly about how he shouldn't have been in the way in the first place, to the point where the bus driver has to tell her that's *really* not necessarily, and the point at which I tell her to cry me a river. Oh, hello tangent. How are you this fine morning?]

Did British Airways have my gluten-free meal? No.

Was I hungry after leaving behind that pile of precious, precious undigested potato chips? Quite.

Did I eat some things I shouldn't have? Oh, hell yes. [Note to self: You *cannot* italicize your handwriting. It's slanty enough as it is.]

Will I be living with the damage for the next several weeks? Definitely. [And so I am. *shakes fist at British Airways*]

Am I sorry I did it? Well, I left behind the cheesecake - this was about survival, not dessert. But also, yes. And I'll get sorrier as time progresses.

I think the real key here is, Jess [It's quaint that I can't refer to myself as Catherine in writing. So ingrained is my stupid first name in my head.], you are not starving, no matter what your body tells you - there will be edible food again. whether you'll be able to eat it, is another story entirely. [Welcome to the world of my self-chastisement. It's a theme.]

Well, I guess there is one thing I can say pretty definitely: BA did make sure I got enough to eat - that I could eat [Only on a very technical level. It was gluten-free. I give them that.] - and ma'am, if you could just put down that bun for a minute and stop stabbing yourself with it, we can get you more salad, and some fruit. Please stop, it's painful to watch.

Dinner was chicken, cooked in I have no idea what, but I think (now, after the fact), was probably gravy - chicken a la poison, I assume - green beans, and probably the only mashed potatoes in existence cooked with flour.

There was also a salad of cucumber, tomato and onion. I'm not going to speculate as to which opened the gaping holes in my tongue, but ow. [Acidic foods give me not only acid reflux, but excessively painful canker sores. You want neither on a 9 hour flight overseas.].

I obviously skipped the cheesecake, but ate half a small roll just to shut up the aching gnaw. Blech. Bread is just how I remember it - fibrous and gluey. So, 18 days from now, when that meal finally makes its way through my system, a whole lot of villi are going to sob in pain as they throw themselves on their own swords [I summarize the basic effects of gluten on the person with celiac disease. You can read a more technical explanation elsewhere, but I think mine is more poignant. And funny.].

I ate more cucumber salad, some regular salad, and some fruit, a notable number of which were either citrus, or I'm allergic to them (fuck you, pineapple, you destroyer of worlds and roofs of mouths). So. Unnecessary roughage that won't digest for three weeks, and only very painfully, acidic fruit, and a relatively gluten-heavy meal. I'm sure my digestive system will have many conflicting things to say on the subject in the coming hours. Holy Jesus, cinnamon gum. [I popped a piece into my mouth as I was writing, hence the fact that it had nothing to do with the paragraph of which it was part.]

Just full of bright ideas tonight, aren't you, buddy? [When have I ever called myself buddy? Except, like, this situation right now.]

Woo, turbulence.

Yeah, I feel sick. Perhaps it's time to call it a night before I throw myself at another bread product in desperation.

...I have no one but myself to blame for this. I would cry, but crying alone on a flight to a foreign country, where I'll be even more alone (albeit briefly) just makes me even sadder.

I had a choice, even if it felt like I had none at the time. As such, I, and I alone have to deal with the outcome of that choice. Frig on toast. [Shut up, self, you are not a martyr. Nice use of "frig on toast," though.]

Guess I can't exactly complain about the pain, either. I brought it on myself.

Fuck. Ow.

-Jess
23:42 PST

[No, really, the entries mostly get happier from here on. It was just a sucky beginning to the trip.]

17 February 2011, Sometime After 21:00 PST

17 February 2011
Sometime after 21:00 PST

Well, I think it's pretty safe to say that I have made it on board my first overseas and first solo flight. Apparently, it was hailing as we were about to leave, so they needed to de-ice the plane, or possibly just the runway. Either way, I was prepared for a slick takeoff, not driving around the airport grounds for 30 minutes. I must have begun and ended the breathing calmly process 7 or 8 times, before giving up and reading my book [Before this trip, I was a nervous flyer. 1300 planes later, I think I've got the process down.] By the time we *actually* took off, I merely clutched my pillow and hoped I could relax my back soon - preferably before I herniated a disc.

Checking in was easy, and security was nerve-wracking. Short, but nerve-wracking. I even got "randomly selected" by Officer Friendly to be taken aside and swabbed for chemicals. [YVR's technique: Pick the most scared-looking traveller, take them aside and question them. Starts the trip off right, as you know.] Also, they didn't even ask me to empty my bags, which I would have gladly done, so relieved was I to be in the regular security line after "random selection" [I'm terrified of airport security people. I will pretty much admit to anything, even things I didn't do.] I didn't set off any alarms, so I must not have any radioactive selenium left in me. [Stomach-related test, approximately 2 weeks prior to leaving. I had documentation with me in case I *did* set off the alarms.] After, I walked off, kind of dazed, having left my parents merely two and a half minutes prior.

I picked up a quite ill-advised bag of potato chips and some water, went to my gate for a snack and a People magazine reading. Then, I learned how one vomits into an automatic flushing toilet: carefully. Unpleasant, but I lived. Ish.

Time passed relatively quickly after that. Somehow. I sent text messages to my mom, took my pills, went to the bathroom, and called Ruy - from a pay phone, since my cell won't dial overseas. By the time I was ready to sit down and do anything, it was nearly time to board.

There is one other person in my row, and she has the window seat. This is good, because these seats are tiny. [Little did I know, they'd just get tinier with every plane I took.] I've spent much of the time since I boarded being too damn hot (overcompensating for the burst of cold weather outside?). It has finally cooled down, for which I remain eternally grateful.

I do wonder at this change in weather - I recall it being freezing and snowy before Ruy and I left for Tofino, as well. Inclement weather, and I'm travelling in it.

We appear to be about to cross the border between BC and Alberta, and it seems to have hit 22:00 already. Mysterious. Does this mean I've already lost an hour passing into the Mountain Time Zone? I guess I could continue staring at this map...

Dinner happens soon. Surprisingly, I'm hungry. I may add to this later in the flight, but I am currently hungry and sleepy. See you in 8 hours anyway.

-Jess, 22:10 PST

Live from New Europe, it's Wednesday morning!

A quick post while I'm still in the Netherlands to begin this blog. Pictures to follow. Also, general ramblings from the paper journal I've been keeping. Also, how well I function when you steal 9 hours from me: fascinatingly. Okay, maybe I'm a little tired. Something smells like breakfast. Mmm, breakfast.