Going Numb at 30,000 Feet

Read time: 6 minutes

Welcome to The Ascend Archives Tuesday Tale, a weekly newsletter where I share a story about a transformation, revelation, or change in thinking that has helped improve an aspect of my life.

The two-hour flight that changed my life

“Ladies and gentlemen the boarding door has now closed.”

I reach up to adjust my air vent for the 5th time trying to get cool air on my face. I try wiping my palms which are drenched in sweat on my pants. I begin to regret being a cheap college student and not buying that $4 bottle of water from Hudson News.

The events from yesterday are playing on repeat in my head.

Michigan vs Penn State. The biggest football game of freshman year. Drinking 6 shots of Titos before 10 AM. Passing out before leaving my dorm room. Not making it to the tailgate to meet my girlfriend’s parents because I was too drunk. Seeing her angry texts and not being able to explain myself.

I feel terrible about it, but I need to focus on getting through this flight.

The plane takes off and we reach cruising altitude. I start to feel uneasy. I search for the paper bag in the back pocket of the seat in front of me.

Magazine. Safety card. No paper bag.

My hands are tingling. I can’t feel my legs. I start looking around at the strangers near me. Nobody knows that my heart is racing out of my chest. I feel like the world is closing in on me.

Am I having a heart attack?

I reach for the call button. As the flight attendant approaches, I somehow muster the words, “I don’t know what is happening”.

“Honey, you’re having a panic attack. I need you to take some deep breaths. You’re going to be okay.”

Minutes later a doctor is guiding me through deep breaths into a paper bag. She takes my vitals. “We need to lay him down”.

Next thing I know, I’m lying down in the middle of the aisle trying to control my breathing. After what feels like an eternity, I begin getting feeling in my hands and legs. The doctor takes the bag away from my face.

“Continue the deep breaths. What’s your name?”

“Andrew Fink.”

“How old are you?”

“18.”

“Is DC your home?”

“Yes, I go to school at Michigan but am going home for fall break.”

“Awesome! I’m a fellow Michigan grad. Great game yesterday. You are doing great Andrew. Now I need you to be honest with me. Have you taken any drugs or alcohol in the past 24 hours?”

“No drugs. But yes I drank too much at the game yesterday. I had at least 10 drinks. I’m sorry.”

“Wow bud that’s a lot. Thanks for your honesty. You’re going to be fine but maybe tone it down next time?”

My breathing starts to slow and return to somewhat normal. The flight attendant comes over to ask the doctor if we need to do an emergency landing. Thankfully I overhear the doc say no and that I was in stable condition.

We finally land. I’m embarrassed, still in shock, and thankful to be on land. The doctor escorts me off the plane, walking by dozens of confused strangers wondering what happened to me.

I’m met by a police officer and EMT.

“Son, do you have a history of panic attacks? Are you aware of the implications this could have had if we needed to emergency land this plane? You’d be on the hook for thousands of dollars. Make sure you are ok to fly before you get on another plane.”

“I’ve never had a panic attack before. I’m really sorry. Is there anything else you need from me?”

"You’re free to go.”

Getting back to Ann Arbor

3 days later it’s time to get back to school.

I’m sweating uncontrollably in the car ride to the airport. My dad tries to distract me with small talk. He gets a waiver to come with me to the boarding gate.

Not knowing if I will get stuck with a middle seat on this Southwest flight adds another layer of stress. My boarding group is called. It’s time.

I sit down in the first aisle seat I can find. The symptoms immediately come rushing back. Heart racing. Palms tingling. Head throbbing.

What do I do? Do I power through it? Is it too late to get off the plane?

The last few people board the flight. The aisle clears. My head is pounding and I feel my hands start to go numb.

I can’t do this.

I jump out of my seat, grab my bag and run off the plane.

I suddenly feel at ease. All the symptoms disappear. I’m safe.

My dad is still at the gate. I walk over to him, “I couldn’t do it. I felt like it was going to happen again. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’ll get back on a plane when you’re ready.”

“I need to get back to go to class”.

“Road trip?”

—

My incredible Dad and Grandpa immediately hop in the car with me and drive 8 hours each way from Maryland to Michigan within 24 hours to drop me off at school.

In the months that followed, I started to learn about anxiety and panic attacks. I read books, saw a therapist, and tried mindfulness practices. I was able to fly when I was with a family member or close friend “just in case it happened again”. But I never got to the root cause of the anxiety and was too scared to get on a plane by myself.

Two years later, I was accepted to a semester long study abroad program in Prague, Czech Republic. It had always been a dream of mine to spend a semester in Europe. That meant a long flight across the ocean and flights every weekend to new cities. I wasn’t going to let this anxiety stop me from pursuing that dream.

My mom found me a flight exposure therapist.

He taught me the psychology behind anxiety. He put me through simulations to recreate the uncomfortable symptoms. I put on headphones to listen to a flight attendant give the safety protocols speech and the engines start to roar down the runway. I practiced dealing with the sweaty palms and throbbing head.

He taught me how to talk to myself, control my breathing, and remain grounded. I learned to breathe from the stomach and not the chest. I learned that resisting anxiety just makes it worse.

I developed a mantra and coping techniques that I use to tackle the anxiety head-on.

That spring, I took the 10 hour flight overseas and traveled to 10+ countries. The following summer, I accepted an internship at United Airlines. Every Friday I’d show up at O’Hare Airport in Chicago without knowing where I’d go for the weekend. I’d get on the standby list for cool destinations and hop on the first flight that had a seat for me. And last year I took a 17 hour flight from Auckland to Dallas (I will say business class helped ease the nerves).

I haven’t let this traumatic event or the continuous fear stop me from living my life.

Anxiety will always be there

“Ladies and gentlemen the boarding door has now closed”

My palms start to sweat, heart starts to race, and head starts to throb.

What the heck, where did this come from?

We start taxiing to the runway. The lady to my left is anxiously fidgeting with her necklace. I turn my attention to my breath.

In through the nose and out through the mouth. Let the belly slowly expand. Bring on the fear. It’s temporary. I’ve been here before and I’ll be here again.

The engines kick in. We start building momentum down the runway and lift off the ground. The lady next to me says a prayer in Spanish and kisses her Cross Necklace. I turn back to my feet planted on the ground and Mt. Joy playing in my ears.

Lean into the anxiety. Bring it on. I’m healthy. I can handle sweaty palms. I’m not going to die. I’ve been through worse. 

We reach cruising altitude. My breath normalizes. I take a sip of water. My palms start to dry up.

—

Another battle with anxiety. Another win for me.

This anxiety will never completely go away. This was 2 weeks ago on my flight home from Costa Rica…9 years after I had that panic attack.

It’s going to keep challenging me. Testing me.

But I know that I have the power over fear. Fear doesn’t have power over me.

Thank you for reading! As always please reply and let me know what resonated, what didn’t, or what you question. I love chatting about this stuff!

Cheers,

Andrew