Warning: I’m going to get slightly biological here, so if you are easily offended, you might consider a different blog or at least skipping the first paragraph. I woke at 3:30 a.m. with a raging need to pee. As it turns out, if you drive 11 hours in searing heat, get to a campsite and rehydrate all at once with a bottle of Gatorade G2, a Coca Cola, and two 20-ounce bottles of water, you cannot expect to make it all the way through the night before you wake up bleary eyed, try to unzip a tent in haste, slip on your flip flops, and dodge mosquitoes five hundred feet to the community bathroom. Ah, this is living!
(Biological entry ends. Stand down.) I woke up and could not rise without assistance. I could not put my shoes on without assistance. I could not lean down to unzip the tent without assistance. I could not walk without assistance. Basically, I needed to move in immediately to Sunny Skies Assisted Living.
All I had was my trusty companion, L, who had been sound asleep before wakened to Defcon 1 alarm horns. We hobbled back and forth, and then she shoveled me back into the bed, hoping a little more rest and sleeping on my other side would magically heal me.
The alarm went off at 6:00 a.m. and I tried again to walk. L’s dad was a fighter pilot, and the jargon comes back at some of the oddest times. “Are we go or no-go?”
I bit my lip. “It’s a no-go, Houston. The rodeo is over for this cowgirl.” (I know it is a mix of metaphors. Give me a break here, I’m injured).
We hobbled back to tell K and S the bad news. Well, okay, I sent L back to break it to them first. I try to be a tough lady, but crushing disappointment makes me cry every time. They knew it was coming. We sat down to a breakfast of oatmeal, yet again, and coffee as we tried to figure out where to go from here. L and I figured S and K would head on by themselves, and we would pick our way back towards Sicily’s house so I could recoup for a few days.
K wasn’t having any of it. Her back couldn’t continue at our current pace either. The next thought was for S and L to continue, and K and I would happily stay at Hampton Inns for awhile until they were coming back through. We could rejoin them then, and my back could be better by then. However, when we did the math, that meant the four of us would be split up for 10 days of a 24-day vacation. What fun is that?
At the end, it came back to the fortune cookie. The journey had become unpleasant, something to be endured just to get to the destination. We decided to live by the fortune cookie and make the journey fun again. We would stay put for a couple of days, I would go to a local chiropractor, and we would replan our trip on the fly to a new destination that would allow us all to enjoy ourselves again.
Final note: If you are going to be stranded somewhere with an injury, I highly recommend a lovely campsite by a river with snow-capped mountains in the background. Especially when Domino’s delivers.
Trip Recap: 10 miles (to the chiropractor and back), same state: Still Montana, with the best friends any human could ever wish for.
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I just got caught up on your blog. I was so excited to read it because I have missed the newsletters for years now. I just love the way you write! It always makes me laugh out loud. It sound like you need some medical advice.....if the chiropracter dosen't work than go to a local drug store and get some tylenol, extra strength and motrin. Take 800 mg of motrin every 6 hours and tylenol 2 extra strength every 4 hours (FYI...You can't overdose on motrin, but you can on tylenol) Put icy hot on your back everynight before you go to bed and stretch every morning after a hot shower (if you can find one). That should help and if all that fails go to the closest ER and ask for dilaudid. They make think your a drug addict, but at least your pain will be gone! Tell everyone hello! Hang in there though girl! You can do it!
ReplyDeleteI know what a disappointment that is for you--I cried, too.
ReplyDeleteBUT, you're camped out by a spectacular lake, and how bad can that be? Now maybe you can make it to the edge to stick your feet in it.
Hope you lose some pain soon. I love you!
I have enjoyed following your adventures. In spite of mishaps and mechanical problems you all seem to be having a great time. I cried this morning when I read about your back pain. It leaves a heavy ache in my heart I pray you will be able to get some relief soon. What wonderful friends you are traveling with to be willing to "punt" together.
ReplyDeleteI love you,
Momma
It's amazing how you're describing such a rough and unlucky time of it, and yet I still would rather be doing what you're doing than what I'm doing. Perhaps I'll carry several cement blocks into the back yard, cover myself with Thousand Island dressing and an old mouse dropping spattered tarp, lie down on said blocks, and set the sprinklers to intermittent...
ReplyDeleteNope, still rather be doing what you're doing.
Hope the chiro has a magical touch, and that you get back to, no, scratch that, return to feeling all of 18 again. But, hey, look at all the love you're getting! I'll toss my 2 cents in as well!
having no adventures at all, and have yet to be banned in any communist countries,
Chris
Howling...Chris, you sure know how to have a good time!
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