I've never cared much for green-skinned Martians, probably because I have frequently turned green myself with stomach flu. I hate throwing up worse than almost anything. Anyway, we had journeyed down to see my family, a 600-mile trip. My husband did all the driving in those days and I was taking care of our infant daughter.
We started out the trip home with me feeling woozy, but we weren't 100 miles into it that I started vomiting. Then, regular as clockwork, I vomited every 20 minutes. My husband was afraid to pull over and stop at a motel because he just wanted to get us all home. At that time, the baby was nursing, and my husband refused to drive one wheel revolution without the kid being strapped into her carseat. So we stopped to throw up on the roadside. We stopped to go to the bathroom. We stopped to nurse every two and a half hours.
Oh, and this was back in the day when the maximum speed limit was 55, and you would get a ticket for going 61. I think it took us most of 24 hours to get home. I was so exhausted and the baby was light years past cranky too. I was never so glad to see my own bed.
We didn't take many long trips like that afterwards, not until the kids were a bit more self-sufficient. I still get vomiting jags, but nothing so terrible as that trip from hell.