How to survive a multi-stop plane flight, badly

You, or maybe a friend, booked a cheap flight with a few stop-overs. At the time, you didn't think about it much. I mean it was CHEAP. But now, as you actually calculate how long you will spend waiting in various airports, you begin to question your past self. But you're still positive you can survive this, it will be worth it.

This is actually not on a plane but you get the general idea.

You know how to get through this. It's a budget flight, so you know there won't be any entertainment and definitely no food. You've got all the essentials prepared: Movies on laptop - check. Plenty of snacks - check. Eye mask, earplugs, inflatable pillow, nasal spray - check and check.

Getting to the airport early because it's pouring rain and there's literally nothing you can do is no big deal. There's actually plenty to do before you can check in, and you have enough movies to watch one now. Maybe two. Ok, you're stupidly early. Even though you're not hungry, you eat a full meal before boarding so you don't get jealous of other people's gross plane meals.

Everything's going super smoothly. You've even found a power point and have charged everything up. Super ready. Give yourself a pat on the back. You will get on the plane, put in you earplugs and pull on your eye mask and go straight to sleep. Despite your usual inability to sleep on planes. This time will definitely be different.

Take off seems to take forever, and then they serve a meal to those foolish enough to buy one. A plan for a new plan set up forms in your mind. A whole section of the plane where people who have chosen not to have meals can sit, so they can actually sleep!

Finally the lights go off and you think this will be it, I can sleep now. You have even managed to sequester a whole row for you and your partner. That extra seat is definitely going to make all the difference.

This is it, this is the time to sleep. Itchy let. Hot foot. Buckle digging into back. There is just no way to get comfortable here! Finally you find the perfect position and you can feel sleep start to take you, and then your arm goes dead. It's at this point you start to doubt you will ever sleep. And then the abdominal pain starts.

It takes you about an hour to decide it's probably not just gas, and you're in for a really bad time. The pain gets worse and brings it's best bud nausea along to say a firm hello. You get up way too many times to walk to the toilet. Partly to distract yourself, and partly because if you actually do vomit it wouldn't hurt to be halfway to the toilet already. Finally, when it looks like your partner is awake, you tell him you may be dying. You wouldn't want him to wake up to a surprise like that, better that he expect it.

You're too scared to check the flight path. You know there is still going to be a few hours left. The pain dies down a little and, with your pants undone, you actually get somewhat comfortable. And then the lights blare back on. It's like a smack in the face with a bag full of rocks. Apparently, people are getting breakfast at two in the morning, and those smells make you're stomach churn. At least even on budget flights you can get a cup of ice if you ask for it. However, you might have to also deal with a flight attendant who is sure it's just travel sickness. Umm, pretty sure it's death thank you very much.

As the plane hits turbulence, you realise you could feel worse, and begin a little chant in your head.
 I won't throw up, I will live through this, I'm not going to die, it's fine, I'll be fine.

It takes about three years for the plane to finally land and your hope is restored. The new airport will have a carpeted floor you can lie on instead of being crumpled up in a plane seat. That will be much better. At this point, you need to change to the domestic airport, and you hurry as much as you dare.

Another perk of a budget flight is realised when you reach the domestic airport; you can't check your bags for another hour. There's not enough seats for the amount of passengers who got off your flight and are changing like you. Even if there were, they're the type with an arm rest between each seat. Making it impossible to lay down on them. It doesn't take you long to dismiss any idea that the tiled floor will be gross and cold. You shamelessly lie on the hard floor beside the chair your partner is sitting in. The tiles really are cold and it doesn't take long for it to seep into you and make you shiver. But it's ok, you have entered the second stage of your stomach bug, and must frequent the toilets.

Finally you reach bag drop time, and the carpet at the security check gives you hope for carpet in the rest of the airport. There's tiles. Just tiles. You're long-suffering partner manages to find a cafe with a padded bench seat and you lie down to spend your last hours in relative comfort.

You wake up to find your partner gone, but all your belongings laying around you. Slightly alarmed, you look around the cafe before deciding you don't really care and lying back down.

A few hours later it's time to find the gate for the next flight, and you really hope you can keep your stomach under control at least for take off. This flight is marginally better. the nausea has eased a bit and you're no longer getting as many moments of pure pain. This flight is shorter and you know the next airport has carpet for you to make friends with.

When you get off you actually feel like you could put something in your stomach and not retch in the process. Fruit salad goes down and stays down while you wait for bag drop, again. You even manage to drink a quarter of a smoothie while your partner eats lunch right in front of you.

This time, even though you have relatively comfortable carpet to lie on, you can't manage to sleep. But things are looking up, you no longer have constant stomach pain and the nausea is gone. The final flight is nice and short and you know home is only an hours drive away. Unfortunately, the decent walk to the car reminds you all is not well. You make it to the car, just. In a reasonably uncomfortable crumpled sitting position you sleep for most of the drive and fall into bed when you get home.