Vomit at the airport

We can't have an international trip before something potentially newsworthy happens. 

"American doesn't make it to the bathroom and throws up all over the corridor", will do.

I had the perfect day planned. I was to leave with the girls for the airport at 530 to board the plane. I then was going to stop by their gate and wait for them to leave before I had my 18 hour layover in lima.  The plan already started unraveling. Instead of arriving earlier than them, my plane sat on the runway for an extra hour (the plane ride was only 50 minutes).  When I arrive, an airport personal tries to find me to help me get to my Avianca flight. Yet I don't have one. I am to board a Copa flight at 2am the next morning. I tell him my friends are supposed to be on that flight and he says they haven't arrived. I start to get worried. (I have since received emails from both so I'm assuming they are on American soil).

After I get my luggage I have a few things to settle such as leaving my luggage for the day and getting reimbursed for the canceled flight. As it turns out the same personal that came to find me earlier also was the person as the counter. This had a calming affect on me.  Instead of being irate and pointing out the injustices as i normally do I was able to deal with him and not be hostile. I got back the cost of the flight but not including taxes and am told that I can email customer service to rectify it further. I'm pretty mad as I had already missed day 1 in the jungle and my last day in cusco and after an hour of waiting I'm starting to feel like my day in lima is not off to a good start either. But I'm calm. Creepy calm. Perhaps I'm growing up?

I see a couple from my canceled flight and hear their tale, and a family's as well. This one act messed up so many plans.

For the first time ever (surprising actually) I take advantage of the long layover and head to lima, a neighborood called miraflores. I have lunch (goat cheese and something ravioli with coke) walk around, buy 2 scarves and find myself several blocks down ar the pier ay a super fancy fashion mall. I could easily forget I was in peru there. I found a bar with an ocean facing window and tucked into my book, frozen strawberry drinks and ceviche. I'm thinking this is what did it.

I decide to have desert. It's been a while since I have had control over the food I eat and I also figure I can then use them to call a cab.

My last set of plans include getting to the airport around 8, getting some type of massage and then sleep right there at the spa  for a few hours (as I was able to do on my way here). Minus being off an hour my plan begins to work perfectly. After my leg massage she tells to go to sleep. Amazing. I get comfy but within minutes everything changes. I get that same feeling as I did in the truck yesterday, that I attributed to altitude sickness and feel that white cold coursing through my veins, replacing my blood.  It seems to cause me to have to go to the bathroom, number 2, quickly. I figure out the least amount of broken spanish I can and leave my stuff there so they don't think I'm skipping out in the bill. They don't seem phased by this.

I settle back in. But within minutes of laying back down the feeling comes back. The taste, you know THAT taste begins to form in mouth. I try to fight it as I did the night before and feel successful. Boy was I wrong.  It comes back with a vegence. I leap from the chair and then try non challantly to put up my hair as I'm heading towards the bathroom. But I don't make it. Twice.

Workers offer me napkins. I finally go to the bathroom and try to clean up. And finish up. Ya know. Luckily my dress has so many colors on it as long as you didn't smell me I didn't look like I had just thrown up. Unless you looked at my socks (sorry nicole).  Also luckily I hadn't yet checked my luggage so I managed to grab it from storage and change into fresh clothes. I tried to check in but Copa hadn't opened yet. So I get to tour my third bathroom at the lima airport. I spend a bit of time in there, camp out outside the door and go back in once or twice. This time the other end.

I'm surprisingly not embarrassed but definitely fairly confused. I don't know what caused it and I don't know what I should do or avoid (food wise I'm assuming?).  And lucky for me I get to spend 12 or so hours thinking about it on the plane. Lucky me.    At least I have an aisle seat on the first leg and may spring for an upgrade on the next flight. But it happens ya know? And this is the first time in forever it wasn't due to alcohol!

Can't any trip go off without a hitch?

It has now been about 2 hours since the incident and haven't felt the need to dart anywhere. Other than chills I seem to be fine. But we shall see. I took acetaminophen. That will totally work right?