Mixing meds, booze, and airplanes is a bad idea

Two weeks ago, I was teaching in Santa Clara, CA. As I was making my way to the gate to catch the redeye home, I heard a woman screaming hysterically at Gate 40. The police had the screaming woman on the floor behind the desk in an attempt to keep things as private as possible. Still, this woman was yelling her head off, making animal noises and swearing at cops.

I figured that she must have been unstable to get this way in the first place, and I guess that happens sometimes. This morning I read a letter to Cary Tennis' advice column in Salon.com that makes me wonder how often this sort of thing does happen:

I am writing to you because I have been through what feels like a
very traumatic experience and I need to find a way to put it behind me.
Recently, I was on a flight from my local airport to another
destination for work purposes. The flight was to be three hours in
duration. As is my normal pre-flight ritual, I took two Klonopin
(strong tranquilizer also known as Clonazepam) of a low dosage
prescribed for anxiety around flying, and I had two glasses of white
wine at the airport bar. Aside from drinking before a flight, I drink
rarely. This is my ritual every time I fly and I never veer from it. I
also take a daily anti-anxiety medication to help address this same
flying issue. Lastly, I take Topamax, an anti-seizure medication.

Tranquilizers, booze, and anti-seizure meds? Good grief, I worry if I take Tylenol PM and a glass of wine when I fly! Well, there are consequences for stupidity, of course:

I must have fallen asleep immediately in my seat and the next thing
I knew, I was in a wheelchair outside the plane with police officers
who were handcuffing me. I demanded to know what happened and was
hysterical. I slipped my left hand through the handcuff on two
occasions. I asked to be released several times, and was permitted to
phone my husband, who said he could barely understand me due to my
crying. He asked the police to wait for him to arrive, but I was then
transported to a local area hospital. I am informed that I kicked
hospital security as they tried to move me to a bed. I was then tied
down in four-point restraints, with one arm pinned above me. I know
that I screamed to be let go. I was never arrested.

Wow, do you think mixing meds and booze might have contributed to ending up in this situation? What we don't know here (because the storyteller clearly has left it out) is any indication of why she ended up in a wheelchair in the gate house. I've seen people who have had to be removed from flights for medical reasons, and I've seen drunks escorted off of planes, all at several different airports. In none of those cases were physical restraints involved. In the case of a couple of drunks, cops stood by, but the drunk followed the instructions of the gate agent once they saw the cop.

Which means there's a LOT more to this story than meets the eye.

OK, I know this is Cary's advice column, so naturally he focuses on the writer's motivations to get on the plane in the first place. Still, there should be some mention of perscription drug abuse here.