Continued from here.

It took all my concentration to keep from vomiting, and my concentration was handicapped by spinning vision and throbbing pain. Oh God, make it stop, was all I could think. I felt like I had no blood in my body. For the remaining couple of minutes in the ride, I was sweating and quivering.

When the ride at last ended, and I could exit, I found standing and walking difficult and unsteady. My head wanted to explode, my stomach wanted to empty itself, and my bones wanted to collapse. I’m serious –- I have never experienced such distress. A couple of Disney workers in the ride gave me a look over as I passed them in the exit tunnel, but I guess they figured I was OK since I was able to walk on my own.

I made it out of the ride zone, and through the after-ride entertainment area, and through the gift shop, and finally, outside to the bright sun and fresh air. I found an empty bench and laid down. I wasn’t concerned what people might be thinking of me right then, laying down on a bench, because it took all my concentration just to stay alive.

It was an hour before I could sit upright and not feel like throwing up. A little while after sitting up, an older man sat down next to me, to wait for his wife to come off the ride.

We chatted for a while. He was from England, and he and his wife were in Disney World for his 65th birthday. They had both ridden the less intense version of Mission: Space, and then his wife wanted to ride the more intense version. I related that I had just gotten off that version (I didn’t say, “an hour ago”), and was recovering. I really didn’t feel like talking, but I think doing so helped me get over the ill feelings.

Eventually, his wife came out. The man introduced me, and we discussed the experience a bit. She said it was indeed intense, and she didn’t like it, but she was not ruined like me. I explained that I had lifted my head and looked to the side during the ride.

“The signs say not to do that,” she said, politely.

“Yeah,” I said, “and now we know why.”

They chuckled, and she added, “I don’t think I could have lifted my head. I couldn’t lift my hands to push the buttons.” They wished me a speedy recovery, and went on their way.

Half an hour later, my family returned to the park. I was able to walk properly by then, but my head was still spinning, albeit, slower. I wasn’t dizzy enough to fall down, but it was enough to keep me from fully enjoying anything for another hour. I even felt a little bit of disorientation later that evening.

It’s a shame that my first and only experience on a centrifuge turned out so badly (because I screwed up). I think I would have really enjoyed that more intense version of Mission: Space – feeling the increased Gs, especially when lifting my arms, was very cool. But wow, taking that G force hit to the inner ear totally ruined me. I was reduced to being happy that I didn’t throw up or fall down afterward.

Bullgrit

Way back in my post talking about the thrill rides I experienced in Disney World during our September vacation, I mentioned I’d say more about a couple of the rides.

The most horrible ride experience I have ever had was with Mission: Space in Epcot. I went to see this ride by myself, while the rest of the family went back to our resort rooms for a break (Calfgrit4’s naptime). There’re two versions of this ride: Less Intense and More Intense. I figured I should try the less intense version first, so that’s the line I got in.

At the end of the line, I waited for my “mission team” to be assembled, and then we stepped into a “preparation room” where we were given the “pre-flight briefing.” When the “ship” was ready, we were directed to the flight simulators. There are four people to each ship crew, and each person has a “job” to perform (firing the rockets, turning on the cryo-sleep system, firing the break rockets, etc.), so it’s a bit of an interactive ride as well as an experience ride.

The whole mission is blasting off from Earth, flying through space (with a sleep mode to hand wave the long distance), and landing on Mars. The mechanics of the ride are your basic flight simulator –- the sealed capsule leans back to give the feeling of blasting off, rotates about to give the feeling of steering through asteroids, and leans forward to give the feeling of breaking. The only view out of the capsule was through the “window” in front of me which showed directly out the front of the “spaceship.” The ride takes 4 or 5 minutes from blast off to crash landing, and it’s a decent experience. But it’s definitely “less intense.” When I got off, I was thinking, “Meh, it was OK.”

But since I had plenty of more time left to kill at Epcot, waiting for the family to return from their siesta, I wanted to give the more intense version a try. Everything looks pretty much exactly the same for both versions, but along the line, and in the prep room, there are signs warning about the intensity. One major warning is to keep your head against the seat back at all times.

I got on this more intense ride with two Mexican teenagers who didn’t speak much English. They asked me if the ride was really hard, and I told them that I didn’t know, as I’d only ridden the less intense version. I’m not sure they completely understood me.

Once we were strapped into our flight seats, and the ride started, it became apparent what the difference between the two versions was – the more intense ride is a centrifuge. Way cool! Blast off was much more intense, with a real feeling of increased Gs. When it came time for me to perform my crew functions (push buttons), I found my hands and arms incredibly heavy. I had never experienced anything like that before. I was excited.

About a minute into our mission, one of the Mexican boys in the capsule with me said, “Aye, mommy!” It made me chuckle, and I turned my head to look at him. The capsule seats don’t let you look directly to the sides, so I lifted my head (not easy in the centrifuge) and looked to my left.

UGH! It felt like my brain was hit with a bat (bypassing my skull). My head immediately fell back against my seat, and I was more intensely dizzy than I have ever been in my life. My vision spun, my head ached severely, and my stomach felt liquefied. My head and stomach felt more horrible than any illness has ever made me.

To be continued . . .

Bullgrit

My gaming group played last night. We played two games of RoboRally and one of Settlers of Catan, and I didn’t even put up a challenge for anyone in any of the games.

In the first RoboRally game, I didn’t score a single goal before someone won. In the second game, I served mostly as a punching bag for one other player (the player who ended up winning the game). In the Settlers game, I never had more than 2 points — everyone starts at 2 points, and 10 points wins.

Sure, I made some poor choices here and there (that happens to everyone) but my losses in these games was mostly due to really, really bad luck. Even the other players said so — they were just as amazed as I was at how badly luck was working for me. Although I had an enjoyable evening, being with my friends, it really sucks to barely show a presence in a game you’re playing. These three games: I could have sat out of them and it wouldn’t have changed the outcomes. The game play wouldn’t have missed me.

Luck just hates me. And the feeling is mutual.

Bullgrit

I used to be a big library fan. I didn’t really start to appreciate the library until college, but then I came to love it. Then once I had a decent career, and could afford to buy books instead of just check them out, the book store became my fave over the library.

For the past 10 years or so, I have rarely gone to the library. Cowgrit takes our boys each week, and she’s even the “book mom” for Calfgrit8’s second-grade class. That means she picks up a list of subjects the class will be covering over the next week or so, and she goes to the public library to check out a bunch of books on those topics.

Last night, we all went to the library as a family to pick up the books the class will need for the next week or so. Between the class books and our boys’ own choices of books to read at home, we had probably two dozen books. When Cowgrit and the Calves were up at the counter getting checked out, I wandered over to the science fiction shelves to see if something jumped out at me to read.

I ended up in the graphic novel section and found a couple of old X-Men compilations to check out. When the librarian was scanning in my choices, and scanned my library card, she told me I had $3.50 in fines.

“What?” I said. “Wow. I haven’t checked out a book in a couple years.”

The librarian checked her computer, “Yeah, it was in oh-seven.” Interestingly, the late book was a comic book compilation: Wolverine from the 1980s. “You don’t have to pay the fine now, you can do it later,” she offered.

I checked my wallet and found only a single one-dollar bill. “OK, I’ll have to pay it later.”

Wow. I go to the library just once every couple of years, and I still build up fees. This supports my choice of usually just buying books from a store.

Bullgrit