You’ve been felled by an airplane cold.
What would you do to avoid catching one? Guzzle an onion-juice-and-honey cocktail? Chew raw garlic? Use a Neti pot?
Wear a surgical mask on the plane?
There, I’ve said it. Perhaps your first thought was: What? Wear a mask? Why, I’d look like Michael Jackson, though without all the king of pop regalia.
But consider: Airplane colds are a very common travel hazard. One study suggests you are up to 113 times more likely to catch a cold on a plane than in the course of everyday on-the-ground activity.
It’s certainly happened to the aforementioned someone who insists I shouldn’t propose my solution for fear of being judged off my beam. Like when she and I took a much-anticipated trip to Norway and Sweden, only to have her come down with a miserable airplane cold. Result: She spent several days of our Scandinavian sojourn abed, waking only to place extravagant orders with room service. (Interjection from that someone: “Excuse me for thinking I was entitled to eat while I was sick.’’)
It seems to happen to me every other time I fly. Some years back, I went to Salt Lake City for my grandmother’s 100th birthday. (A quick aside: She made it to 104 by always wearing a mask when she flew. No, just kidding. The secret to her longevity, as far as I can tell, was an afternoon whiskey sour and a big handful of cashews.) On the last leg of the trip, I was seated next to a woman who was sneezing and wheezing and coughing and generally comporting herself like the Johnny Appleseed of germs.
Why would someone that sick ever get on a plane?, was my indignant thought. A few days later, I had the answer. I had come down with whatever she had, and it had left me an absolute zombie. Still, I had to get home, and so I boarded and sat there coughing into my elbow as nearby passengers glared daggers at me.
