Flying and Asthma

Did you know I hate to fly? Well, now you know. I hate to fly. I flew with my daughter to Washington D.C. a few years ago and I think I managed to convince her that flying with mommy is not a good thing. Okay, I did take some Valium before that flight but I took it with a double espresso because I was completely unaware that they would cancel each other out. (That's because I got my Valium from my friend who got it from a tanning salon owner/drug dealer...but that's a whole different story) So, not only was I not relaxed for this flight, I was also not properly caffeinated. BAD IDEA. If Brenna knew what an ordeal flying with me was going to be, I think she would have taken the Valium herself. I had a fit because our seats weren't together. I had a breakdown at the McDonalds before our connecting flight. I lost my temper because I couldn't get my boarding pass through the slot to have it scanned before I got on the plane. (turns out I was doing it wrong, which just pissed me off even more.)
BUT the worst part was when we were landing in D.C. I can't remember which airport we flew into, but it's the one where you do your final approach over a body of water so it literally looks like you are going to land in the water. Rational people know that isn't going to happen, but I was far from rational at that point. I mean, the Valium didn't work, the caffeine didn't work and I was lamenting the fact that my last meal was possibly going to be the crap I had from McDonalds. So, we are making our final approach and Brenna says, "Hey Mom! Look out the window. Is that the Washington Monument?" Well, I looked out the window and all I could see was water. We were flying really, really close to the water and I just knew that we were going to miss the runway and end up in the river.
Luckily...I had once read an article about how a man had survived trapped underwater in his car for a period of time by using his asthma inhaler as a breathing device. I must have read this in the National Enquirer because even now as I am typing this it just doesn't make any sense. However, at that particular time when I was certain we were going to crash into the Potomic, I knew that my asthma was going to save our lives. I had 3 or 4 or 5 inhalers in my purse and so I decided to rationally pass them out to Brenna and the other kids sitting in our row. (Did I mention that we were on a class trip?) Here is my idea of rationally passing out inhalers to 3rd grade children..."Take this! It's going to save your life when we go careening into the water. If the impact doesn't kill us then you can use this to breathe underwater! Take it! Take it!" Keep in mind that I am sobbing and screaming at this point.
So, of course, Brenna starts crying. I am sure that she knew we weren't going to crash and die, but at that point she probably wished we were. I, on the other had, having passed out my inhalers, was sitting strapped in my seat with my eyes closed sucking on Albuterol. Needless to say, we landed safely but I could barely move out of my seat because I had sucked my inhaler dry and was shaking so violently from all the steriods in my system I couldn't pick up my carry-ons.
The best part of this whole thing is that, as I got off the plane and entered the terminal, I tripped and fell flat on my face. Just so that people would think I did this purposely, I loudly thanked God and kissed the ground. Brenna kept walking. One of the other mothers on the trip sent two bottles of wine to my hotel room every night.
On the flight back I didn't take any chances. We got to the airport early (with the mom who sent the wine to my room) and sat in the bar drinking and I took 2 Valiums. I swear I heard Brenna chanting, "Chug! Chug! Chug!" under her breath.