A couple years ago I hosted a pizza party after a successful season of volleyball (I used to coach 8th grade girls volleyball). Steve took some of the leftover pizza on his trip.
Well into one flight, he turned to his co-pilot and said "I am going to get sick" and grabbed a plastic bag. He thinks the pizza was bad. Imagine that: being stuck in a small cockpit and puking. Poor co-pilot having to deal with all that. The plane he flew at the time had only one lav in the back of the plane so he wasn't able to excuse himself. Once they landed he called crew scheduling and they immediately sent him home.
Friday night we went out with a bunch of friends to dinner. I had the jambalaya, which was a bit too spicy for me so Steve ate the leftovers on Saturday afternoon.
On Sunday Steve flew to Phoenix. He was scheduled to run 9 miles in preparation for the National (half) Marathon. Sunny and 71 degrees - perfect! Well, 1.8 miles into the run he got sick. He was sick the rest of the day.
By Monday he was feeling much better. We think it was a touch of food poisoning from the jambalaya. Steve was able to continue working the rest of his pairing just fine.
How horrible it must be to get sick on the road. Poor guy.