Chapter 1 How to Pack for Outer Space September 1, 2021 L minus fourteen days Once upon a time, there was a girl who rode a Dragon to the stars . . . ​ It's a quiet evening in Memphis, and I'm getting ready for the trip of a lifetime. "Scarlett," I say, "in two weeks, I'm going to space." My beautiful, fluffy, gray Aussiedoodle looks up at me with an expression of love and mild concern on her face. She's not worried about me. She's wondering who will watch her when I'm gone. She's seen me pack before, and she knows that it ends with my leaving for a while. "The boys are going to take amazing care of you," I tell my dog, knowing she'll be safe and happy with our favorite neighbors. Her expression relaxes and I continue. She's heard it all since the beginning of this wild year: the Dragon spacecraft, the Falcon 9 rocket, the fact that we're going deeper into space than anyone has been in over twenty years. The two of us are quarantining at home together. SpaceX was clear that anyone who tests positive will not be boarding the spacecraft, and getting sick at this point is just not an option, because there's no way I'm letting anything keep me from the ride of my life. I can't wait. There's nothing I love more than traveling to a place I've never been before. Plus, I hear the views are incredible. In case you're wondering, no, this is not the beginning of a sci-fi fairy tale. Forget science fiction. This is science fact, and the fact is that very soon I'll be strapping into a spacecraft with my crew. Our mission: After launch, we'll be 370 miles above the surface of the Earth, orbiting for three days at 17,500 miles an hour before we splash back down in the Atlantic Ocean. For reference, the International Space Station hangs out 250 miles up. The last time I left the United States, I was going on a medical mission trip to treat patients in Nicaragua. The month before that, I was heading to Morocco to ride camels in the Sahara desert. Packing for an adventure is something I've done before, many times, but deciding what to bring to outer space is nothing like planning for a tour of North Africa. Usually, I'm inspired by reading travel blogs and articles by people who have been there before me, but there are no posts about packing for space (I did look). Most of what I need will be supplied by the mission. Just a week after I was selected, I was fitted for a sharp white space suit by a woman who used to make superhero costumes for movies. That was nine months ago. Now launch is only days away. I'm no superhero and this isn't a movie, but I'm going to wear the hell out of that suit. This will be my first liftoff, but as someone who's been to five continents (and counting), I know the rush I get when the plane takes off. From an airplane, which flies barely six miles above Earth, it feels like you can see it all--how the coastline juts out in one place and pulls back in another, the way rivers curve through farmland. We're going to be higher in the sky than any civilian has ever been. I feel so lucky to get a chance to see the world from that angle. Even as I'll be sharing a 26.7-by-13-foot capsule with three other people for three days. It's a good thing I have a lot of experience sleeping in hostels. I will never forget the day I got The Call. It was January 5, 2021, only nine months earlier, and I had a phone meeting scheduled with St. Jude Children's Research Hospital. As every St. Jude employee knows, we treat the toughest childhood cancers and pediatric diseases, and because of the fundraising we do, families never receive a bill from St. Jude. St. Jude is everything to me. It's where I work as a PA (physician assistant) with leukemia and lymphoma patients. It's the place that treated me for bone cancer as a kid. Without St. Jude and the big limb-sparing surgery I had when I was ten years old, I could have lost my leg and my life. During treatment, St. Jude became my home. Twenty years later, it's still my home. I'll do anything I can for this place. When they call on me, I say yes. And they call me often. I've been giving speeches for St. Jude since I was ten! The desire to fundraise for St. Jude started the weekend before my first big surgery, when my mom and I were heading home to Louisiana so I could see my friends and family before the operation. On the drive south, I kept thinking about all of the buildings that made up the hospital, how many lights they had to keep on, how much it all cost, and how my treatment didn't cost us a thing. Where did all that money come from? "Mom," I said from the back seat. "When I get older, I want to raise money for St. Jude." "You don't have to wait until you get older," Mom said. "You can start now." What she said struck me. I didn't have to wait. Now was now. I got really quiet for a while, and then I asked Mom to turn down the radio. "I know how to raise money for St. Jude," I told her. "This is the speech I will give: 'My name is Hayley Arceneaux. I had cancer when I was ten years old and came to St. Jude Children's Research Hospital. They saved my leg and my life. If I didn't go there, my family would either go bankrupt or have to sell our house, but we didn't because St. Jude was free. The staff there is very nice and there isn't one rude or cruel person. When I'm there, I don't think of St. Jude as a cancer hospital but a place where I'm surrounded in love. When people donate, I am very grateful. If you will, please donate money to help pay for the equipment and research to save children's lives.' " Mom had tears streaming down her face. I thought that it was because my speech was so powerful. Years later she told me why she'd cried that day. "What I was really thinking about in that moment was you," she said. "I was thinking about how you just had to live through that surgery so that you could give that speech one day." My surgery was successful, and I started traveling for St. Jude giving that talk. If they asked me to give a speech, I would go, no matter where it was. The first time I traveled for a speech was to New York City. I loved supporting St. Jude, I got a real kick out of public speaking, and I was obsessed with the travel. I was able to help St. Jude and see as much of the United States as I could. I loved experiencing the differences from my home in Louisiana, like the snow in New York City, the incredible mountain ranges in California, and the old architecture and history of Boston. The question I would ask my mom after receiving an invitation was "Well, where is it?" As I got older, the speech evolved, but it's always had the same message: St. Jude is a place where I'm surrounded by love. Now, wondering what they wanted to talk to me about on the conference call, I said to myself, I've never said no to St. Jude, and I'm not going to start now. My assumption was that they wanted me to be in a commercial or to give a speech, except that their scheduling email had been super cryptic: "We'd love to talk to you about a unique opportunity." And except for that weird feeling I had in my stomach. Even stranger was who had reached out. Usually, it's someone from fundraising calling with a request. This time, it was the VP of staff, who had never reached out to me before. I always trust my gut, but in this case, the knot in my stomach made no sense. I called in to the conference line, that weird feeling still with me. Something was coming. I could feel it. I got on the line and saw that a VP from fundraising was on too. "Hayley, we want to talk to you about something really big," said the VP of staff. Then he spoke to the other VP. "Do you want to take this away? Do you want to blast off?" I mouthed the words to myself: Blast off? She started talking about a fundraising effort they were doing. Okay, I thought, this makes sense. Then it got weird. She explained that through SpaceX, a private aerospace company, a billionaire named Jared Isaacman was going to space on the first all-civilian mission. One of the goals of the mission was to raise funds for St. Jude. Isaacman had given two of the four seats to St. Jude. One was going to be used as part of the fundraising effort. One was for a St. Jude ambassador. Then she said something even more unexpected. "We'd love to send you." I laughed. It was the only natural response. Then I said, "Are you serious?" They assured me that they were very serious. "Will you consider it?" "Yes!" Excerpted from Wild Ride: A Memoir of I. V. Drips and Rocket Ships by Hayley Arceneaux All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.