... on the wisdom of discontinuing a checkride. I was completely ready for the instrument ride, but I wasn't ready to be sick. Violently sick.
It's eight hours after my pink slip was handed to me, and I still can't keep anything down! I'm in the dr's office tomorrow first thing.
I was bitten in the ass by a busy tower, strange missed approach procedures because of all of the traffic, AND A MOUTHFUL OF VOMIT. I missed the gear on my last missed approach... he gave me a second chance to pull it up by immediately going partial panel and killing an engine. He gave me ten seconds to get the gear. *bust*
Oh, well. I get to pay 300 bucks to fly out of the pattern, come back in on a GPS approach, go missed, make sure I pull up the gear (GOD what a stupid thing to miss), and circle to land.
Moral of the story? If you feel sick, DISCONTINUE. Even if the DE has to take the plane three times in 15 minutes for you to swallow a mouthful of hour-old Jack-in-the-Box, he can't stop the ride. He can't even suggest it.
Hey- if I can fly a Seminole under the hood while doing the unthinkably gross cud-chewing, fly three approaches balls-on accurate and do sweet manuevers, I think I'll be allright on my XC!! (of course, I have to learn how to pull up the gear on every missed approach, dammit.)
I'll have my rating on Monday morning.
It's eight hours after my pink slip was handed to me, and I still can't keep anything down! I'm in the dr's office tomorrow first thing.
I was bitten in the ass by a busy tower, strange missed approach procedures because of all of the traffic, AND A MOUTHFUL OF VOMIT. I missed the gear on my last missed approach... he gave me a second chance to pull it up by immediately going partial panel and killing an engine. He gave me ten seconds to get the gear. *bust*
Oh, well. I get to pay 300 bucks to fly out of the pattern, come back in on a GPS approach, go missed, make sure I pull up the gear (GOD what a stupid thing to miss), and circle to land.
Moral of the story? If you feel sick, DISCONTINUE. Even if the DE has to take the plane three times in 15 minutes for you to swallow a mouthful of hour-old Jack-in-the-Box, he can't stop the ride. He can't even suggest it.
Hey- if I can fly a Seminole under the hood while doing the unthinkably gross cud-chewing, fly three approaches balls-on accurate and do sweet manuevers, I think I'll be allright on my XC!! (of course, I have to learn how to pull up the gear on every missed approach, dammit.)
I'll have my rating on Monday morning.