Ah, a person after my own heart.
When I was younger I flew with glee, but one trip across the Atlantic in a severe storm left me with an almost paralyzing fear of flying. I only do so as a necessity, and fortified by an alcoholic beverage or two---and usually one before a flight. The thing is, I have no doubt that if something went seriously awry during a flight, I would quickly revert to a sober state in a major panic.
My husband has developed the same fear after many years of flying on a regular basis. He told me about a terrifying flight home from Virginia Beach in which he was sure he would die; all he could think to do was scan the plane for the heaviest woman in case he needed to rip her dress off for use as a makeshift parachute. Illogical, but indicative of a panicked mind. We laugh about that now, but we fly infrequently and with trepidation.
You know, it’s funny, I actually didn’t have any traumatic episodes like you and your husband did. I just slowly developed a distaste for flying that then developed into a real trepidation. Everytime the plane leaves the ground, I think “man was not meant to do this.” And let me tell you, when I’m in a jet 7 miles up and suddenly it slows down, even just a little, I am absolutely sure we are about to drop like a rock. I stare out the window wondering if I’d black out from altitude loss, or be awake and terrified when I hit with a *splat*. So I, too, have a drink before I get on. And another every time the little cart goes by. And then a couple more after I land.