Instant acceleration, harsh braking. My body was thrown back and forth, with the seat belt keeping me alive. It was a warm summer day. I sat in the second row of the minivan, quietly looking out the window. We’ve been driving on the freeway since the early morning, and besides stopping for lunch, we’ve been sitting in the car, writing down notes and taking photos of what’s on the freeway. It’s been a long day, but it’s finally time to head home.
Everyone was pretty exhausted, so there wasn’t much chatter – you were either looking at your phone or watching the cars pass by. I don’t like using my phone when I’m in a car, so I decided to just watch the other cars on the freeway. There were cars that were so fast you can barely read the license plate, but others were driving at a more normal speed. It wasn’t long before all the cars in the other lanes moved at the same speed as us though, because that’s when we hit traffic.
We began to move only a few inches every few seconds. The A/C was turned down and it got even warmer in the car. Sweat rolled down the side of my face, and it didn’t help that we had face masks on.
My head felt heavy and my stomach started to not feel well. It was too stuffy in here. How can I get more air? Should I ask to turn up the A/C? I didn’t want to open my mouth or move at all. Maybe I can just text the others to take a quick break out of the car…but I didn’t want to look at my phone and it would be a pain to get off the freeway, especially since we’d have to make our way past more than three lanes of traffic. We were all excited to get home too, so having to make a stop would waste everyone’s time. I looked far out the window, hoping to feel better. We were still stuck on the freeway.
The driver stepped on the brakes, and my body leaned forward as we stopped once again. I closed my eyes. Please don’t let me throw up, I thought in my head. I took some deep breaths and tried not to think about it. We’re not too far from getting back, I could make it through. Just take a short nap and we’ll be back when I wake up, I thought.
My brain did not communicate to my stomach in time. My stomach rumbled, and up came my lunch. My mouth was sealed shut, and if I didn’t have my mask on, I would’ve looked like a chipmunk. What do I do? I sat still at my seat, upset that my stomach didn’t get the message and desperately trying to come up with a solution. I didn’t want to bring it up now that I had vomit in my mouth (they’d probably ask why I didn’t speak up earlier) and it didn’t seem like anyone noticed or heard anything. There are only three things I could do now: keep it in my mouth, swallow it, or secretly let it out somewhere.
My saliva was building up and my cheeks were getting bigger and bigger. I probably couldn’t keep it in my mouth much longer. There was still at least another 10 minutes before we’d be back, and I’d most likely have to open my mouth when we say our good-byes. Swallowing it was another option (I’ve seen this in movies before), but if you think about it, it’s so nasty that it might make me throw up even more.
I needed to let it out somewhere. I had a bottle of water with me, and it’s not a plastic bottle so even if I threw up in there, nobody would see it. With as little movement as possible (to not upset my stomach any further), I stuck my hand in my backpack and felt around for my bottle. I pulled it out and opened it. It was too full. I don’t like using public restrooms, so I had avoided drinking water as much as possible the entire day. Great.
I had a plastic bag in my backpack as well, so maybe I could throw up in there. It’s not a horrible idea, but everybody in the car would know and see it. I’d never live it down. That would probably be my last resort if I can’t think of a better idea.
By now, my cheeks felt like they were about to explode. I had one last option: my mask. My mask is made up of three layers, and the outside layer is pretty thick. I touched it again to feel the thickness. Let’s test this out. I carefully released some vomit from my mouth and touched my mask. It was fine, and I decided that this was the best solution. To avoid anything leaking from the bottom of my mask, I tilted my head forward. If the mask starts to look wet, I can just say, it must be sweat!
And that was how I made it through alive. I sat with vomit in my mask for the rest of the ride, was able to open my mouth to say bye at the end, and when I finally got into my own car, I took off my mask and let out a sigh of relief. The smell of fresh air was great.
What do I think of this story? Gross! Why would you even consider swallowing your vomit? Is it more embarrassing to ask to stop than to throw up and then ask to stop?