Imagine the worst hiccup you’ve ever had, and then imagine that hiccup was an angry badger. Now, imagine that badger living inside your chest while a giant hand presses on you from the outside. That’s basically a flight with a broken rib.
Takeoff is the worst part. As the plane accelerates, you’ll feel every bump in the runway travel directly into your fracture. You’ll try to breathe, and your diaphragm will scream, “Hey, remember that time you fell off a ladder?” Yes, diaphragm, I remember.
Landing is a close second. The change in pressure on descent is like a slow-motion punch to the torso. You’ll start sweating, your eyes will water, and the person next to you will definitely think you’re having a panic attack. Pro tip: just tell them you’re really afraid of landing. It’s technically true.
Can You Fly With A Cracked Rib? What You Need To Know | TAFT Independent
Survival Kit: The “How to Not Die” Checklist
If you absolutely must fly, you need a battle plan. First, get a pillow, and hug it against your chest like a teddy bear. Every time you cough, sneeze, or laugh (don’t laugh), squeeze the pillow. It keeps the bones from grinding together like tectonic plates.
Second, get the aisle seat. You need to stretch your legs, but more importantly, you need to be able to lean away from the window. The wall will only amplify the vibrations. Also, you’ll need to pee a lot from all the pain-induced anxiety.
Third, medicate responsibly. Ask your doctor for a painkiller that won’t knock you out or make you vomit. The last thing you want is to be puking onto your broken ribs at 30,000 feet. That’s a level of suffering reserved for action movie villains.
