Yesterday, as I lay sleeping in my bed, a complete stranger
knocked on my door, entered my room with keys, climbed over me in bed, closed
my window, crawled back over me, left and locked my door. All without
discussion.
This, by the way, is a completely accepted practice where I
live.
Most people, truth be known, have at least one irrational
fear. Spiders, dark allies, flying, germs, public speaking, something.
(Strangers in my bedroom while I am sleeping, clearly not a fear.)
This morning, my shipmates and I received an email warning
of “very rough seas” forecast for this evening. Few things in life bring me
more anxiety than an email from the captain advising of rough seas ahead. This
is after the rough seas encountered yesterday resulted in the stranger climbing
over me in bed and closing my porthole.
And yes, I get seasick, very very seasick.
People laugh at me and say, “How can you get seasick? You
work on a cruise ship?”
I kind of want to retort, “Do you think cruise ships would
still be in business if everyone was always sick onboard?” Cruise ship
companies, for the most part, plan their itineraries well aware of sea weather
and seasons. We are very rarely in locations at times that coincide with bad
weather. In general, I would say I average one seasick episode for every four
months I am onboard. And I am among the most sensitive people to seasickness.
Everyone will get seasick at some point, no matter how sea
hardy. It is a spectrum. I am at the wimpy end of that spectrum, the very wimpy
end. The teacups at Disneyland end of the spectrum.
I get seasick. I also fear getting seasick. I therefore, by (logical)
transit, fear rough seas. Like all fears, the fear of rough seas is different
for all people. There are many people who fear rough seas because rough seas
make them fear for their lives. When the ship lists a bit and gets jarred
around, they actually fear the ship will sink. Strangely, I see this fear far
more in men than women and far more in bigger men than smaller men. I think
there is an aspect of control these men are accustom to that rough seas takes
from them. Anyway, I digress.
I fear feeling seasick, the actual sensation of nausea,
headache and dizziness. And I would like to argue, that this is not an
irrational fear (though the degree might be irrational).
As I sit here, anchored, listening to the howling winds, our ship is being buffeted. You can actually see the wind rippling the water.
I can only imagine what the night ahead will bring.
But I suppose dwelling on the inevitable does me no good.
Stupid: Rough Seas.
Stupid: Closed Portholes.
Cool: Surviving.
1 comment:
I miss rough seas.. The feeling when you are in your bed and get pressed onto your matress when the ship moves....Aaaaaahhh.. Memories :-)
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