It's not the worst thing by any means, but towards the end you'll see why this was almost a hill I could have chosen to die on!
On a flight back from Rome fairly recently. Took our seats (me, window, DH middle seat, a stranger in the aisle seat) very near the front of the aircraft and a couple with their teenager arrived to sit in the adjacent row. I noticed the Mum really didn't look too happy on boarding and became increasingly distressed as the plane prepared to take-off. I figured she was a nervous flyer and felt a little sorry for her. However, as soon as we took off, she suddenly unbuckled her seat belt and scrambled out of her seat. As we were so near the front, the (still seated and strapped in) cabin crew shouted at her to sit back down. She looked like a rabbit caught in headlights before putting her hand to her mouth and projectile vomiting all over both the aisle and the man sitting at the end of our row. Unfortunately, the violence with which she was sick caused a catastrophic incident at her other end and her pale grey lounge-style trousers were soon anything but grey.
The poor woman, but the smell of the two fallouts combined were otherworldly, and the guy whom she had vomited on suddenly started heaving and retching and promptly threw up all over the place too. The woman spent the rest of the flight in the toilet and passengers were asked to use the toilet at the rear of the aircraft. The cabin crew spent the first 45 minutes of the flight clearing up and trying their best to neutralise the odours, but you can imagine what it was like. It transpired that the poorly passenger had been on a cruise with her DH and teen daughter, when norovirus had swept through the ship. The DH and DD had both caught it whilst onboard, and the DD had only stopped vomiting the night before.
But what in particular made this one of the most traumatic experiences for me? I'm a bloody emetophobe....
I truly wish I could have just felt nothing apart from being utterly sorry for the woman, but like any phobia, rationality went out of the window and I was convinced I was going to have a heart attack, I was sure I couldn't breathe and if I could have smashed the window and jumped out I would. I also spent the next week convinced that DH and I would both come down with it.
It was 2 hours I wish I could erase from my memory forever. But I also hope the poor woman recovered swiftly, honestly!