Time flies. We’ve heard that cliché at least 562 times. But nowadays we fly faster than time and end up with jet lag, another peculiar disease created by man.
My first experience with jet lag was a few years ago on a business trip to the United States from Singapore. I was bright and chirpy on the morning of day one and actually made two meaningful observations during the meeting. But after lunch, I felt relaxed; the speaker’s voice – droning on about budget planning – was soothing. I tilted my head back…
The next moment everyone was pushing their chairs back for the tea-break.
Realizing I had nodded off briefly, I cunningly approached the speaker.
“Hey, Phil, amazing presentation – you brought a fresh perspective to budget planning.”
He looked at me oddly. “But I finished that long ago. This session was about training.”
“I know,” I said, recovering quickly from the shock, “The training speaker was also impressive. What’s his name, by the way? I missed it.”
“Her name is Sarah.”
Though I had skillfully managed to avoid embarrassing myself, I realized I needed help to cope with jet lag. I consulted a veteran traveler. He told me the trick was to force the body to adjust to the destination’s time zone before reaching there.
“I start observing the new time zone the moment I enter the plane,” he said.
I decided to improve on his idea by 24 hours. So, on the day before my next trip to USA, I served myself cereal and toast at dinner, ignoring the pulao (and my wife’s raised eyebrows).
“It’s my breakfast,” I said, “I’m staying awake all night.”
After one hour in front of the television, my stomach complained so I attacked the pulao in the refrigerator and sat back in the sofa feeling appropriately full for a man who has consumed breakfast and dinner within a two-hour span. I stretched my legs out on the sofa…
My wife woke me up in the morning, grinning unnecessarily. I boarded the flight determined to stay awake throughout and during the afternoon after landing, succumbing to sleep only the following night in Los Angeles.
The day journey to Tokyo was a breeze. By lingering over dinner, keeping my chair uncomfortably upright and watching three movies back-to-back, I remained awake on the next overnight sector, smirking at my fellow travellers sleeping around me.
By the time I settled into my room, it was 4 p.m. Just five more hours to stay awake, I thought. Easy! With a view to going for dinner at 6 p.m., I lay down to read a book for two hours but fell short by 1 hour 59 minutes. I woke up at 10 p.m. with the book on my face and tossed around for the rest of the night, my brilliant plan torn to shreds.
When I consulted the travel expert again, he gave me a few tablets.
“Pop one before you sleep and you’ll be out for at least 6 hours.”
My next trip was a daytime flight to London which – due to the time difference – landed in the morning, a few hours before my meeting started. I took a tablet as soon as I boarded and waited for sleep to engulf me. It didn’t. In desperation, I swallowed another tablet and tried harder. No sleep. Worried, I showed the tablet to my neighbor.
“Oh, this won’t induce sleep,” he said, laughing heartily, “But once you go to sleep, it keep you knocked out for many hours. You took two? Wow!” He laughed more.
I was now too panicky to sleep. But after landing in London and showering, I actually felt calm and relaxed. It was 10 a.m. and the effect of the drug had obviously worn off. I still had half an hour before taking the taxi to my meeting venue, so I sat down on the sofa.
The telephone rang. I answered it, mildly surprised at my slowness in getting to it.
“What happened?!” It was my colleague. “You missed the meeting.”
It was 4 p.m. Another strategy to battle jet lag had been foiled. I think I need a new consultant.
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