Last Thursday, I was on a cross-country flight from EWR-SFO. Less than a third of the way into the flight, somewhere over Indiana, the unthinkable happened: my sweet, charming boy had become the vomiting preschooler. In an instant, we went from being the subject of smiles and waves to being that nightmare in-flight story.
By the time we landed, I was subject to plenty of unhappy looks from fellow passengers*, but each and every flight attendant on board came by multiple times to commend me for the way I handled the situation. I couldn’t figure it out at the time, being in the fog of war as I was, but in hindsight I realized that I really did handle things as perfectly as possible. My instincts were spot on, and offered good lessons for how to handle any sort of crisis, with or without a kid.
Lesson #1: Don’t Panic.
Douglas Adams was on to something in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Don’t panic. Ok, maybe I panicked a little, but it only took a few seconds before I went into full-fledged crisis mode. Aside from taking a split second to toss the Kindle to safety, all other efforts were focused on damage control and making my son feel as safe and comforted as possible. It doesn’t matter if you’re a 3-year-old boy or a Toyota owner, all people want in a crisis is a fix and some reassurance.
Lesson #2: Contain the Damage.
In hindsight, I realize that this was the key to the commendations from the flight attendants: I had the good sense to stay put. While we might have been in Code Red mode in seats 29 E and F, we did not spread the joy to the aisles, the restrooms or other public areas. Just a few wrong moves could have quickly sent the situation spiraling out of control. Again, Toyota springs to mind.
Lesson 3: Apologize.
There was no limit to my contrition. I offered drinks to the poor Swedish guy in 29D and asked the flight attendant to extend a similar offer to rows 28 and 30. Surprisingly, nobody took me up on the offer, but perhaps this effort switched their mindset from “this is the worst flight ever,” to “she’s doing the best she can.” And believe me, I needed every ounce of empathy that I could get.
How do you handle a crisis? Are you calm in the face of chaos?
* If any of you are reading this blog, please understand that nobody in their right mind would board a six-hour flight if they had even the slightest inkling that this would happen. Trust me. Yes, it was miserable, but far more so for us than for you.
Offering drinks? You are one gracious, conscientiousness traveler. I’m hoping most passengers were sympathetic, rather than angry, put out or huffy. After all, they ought reserve dirty looks, vitriol and ill will toward truly boorish, rude and unthinking passengers exhibiting selfish behavior (e.g., loud talking, ear-splitting noise from headsets, bare feet on arm rests, aisle clogging, allowing kids to play games with audible explosions), not a 3-year-old boy who’s miserable through no fault of his own.
First–let me say: poor kid! Barfing is bad enough–with an audience, it’s pure hell. Second–you kick some serious butt. I can almost see the grace oozing from the scene (pun unintentional). As for crises, yes, your three plus:
apologize: once and sincerely, don’t get caught in the shame spiral–it makes it worse for everyone.
ask for help and advice from whomever is making eye contact and seems competent at the moment
I’m usually fairly calm in crises (may be why I was so drawn to being an EMT in college), some have commented hauntingly so–I usually process my anxiety after the fact. Hi-ever, I’ve had a couple of total endocrine freak outs and the best advice for that moment is let ‘er rip. We can only cry or rant or freak for so long–our body just can’t sustain it. Then, when the wave subsides, you can contain, ask for help, and apologize (once and sincerely).
Greg, nothing soothes disgruntled travelers like the offer of alcohol. Even if they don’t take it, they seem to appreciate the fact that you were kind enough to offer. Although I think that in this case, when they stood and saw the utter carnage, they were probably horrified anew. It was really bad. I’m hoping that the plane was parking overnight so that the cleanup effort didn’t delay the next flight’s departure.
Dyana, I went with the apologize twice approach for this one: once via the flight attendant and once at the end of the flight when I had to look my traveling neighbors in the eye.
I agree that extending the beverage token of kindess is a great move. I sat next to a man one time who, because of his weight, had to use some of the seat next to him – mine (I was against the window). He bought a water for me and it started a conversation and made the flight more manageable.