I Could Actually Fill An Entire Blog Post With A Discussion Of The Noises One Hears In The ER.

What's that quote about 'the best laid plans of mice and men?'  They always go astray?  Something like that.  Well, this weekend sure tested my commitment to playing the cards I've been dealt.  No one was looking more forward to a weekend in the mountains with just the family than I.  No one.  On Friday, however, Geoff wasn't feeling great (cue ominous music).  By Friday afternoon he was dizzy and nauseous.  We decided we'd start our drive to Breckenridge a little later on Friday so Geoff could take some time to feel better.  That didn't appear to be happening, so we decided I was going to drive and Geoff would ride shotgun (barf bags at the ready).  Then we thought maybe we'd just leave on Saturday morning and let this little 'bug' pass.  By Saturday morning, we weren't going at all.  Around 10 a.m., Saturday, we decided to head to the Emergency Room.  At 5:00, after a full day in the ER listening to a woman down the hall attempt to cough up a hairball or something, we were admitted to the hospital.  And now we're home.

There was no high country golf, no fun family dinners, no sharing a hotel room.  The kids basically survived for two days on their own.  I came home to grab things for Geoff and leave a check for them so they could order Chinese, then back again to sleep later that night.  Of course one child slept at a friend's house and the other one would have too if I hadn't whined to him over a text that suggested he and his friend bed down at our place.  Sleeping at home alone would have just pushed me over the edge.  And my sensitive son picked up on my emotional fragility.  He's a good boy.

Geoff had a terrible attack of vertigo.  He never had it before and I hope it never returns.  It sounds awful! I can't imagine constantly feeling like you just came off the craziest amusement park ride ever.  He couldn't even stand up.  I wish someone would have gotten a video of us making it from our master bedroom to the car.  The kids suggested maybe we get a sled out of the garage and drag Dad down the stairs, through the house and to the car in the driveway.  We didn't use a sled, but we managed to get to the hospital thanks to some keen floor scooting skills and a trash can freshly lined with a green apple scented bag.  Geoff was a trooper through the whole crazy experience - and even remarked about the trash bag's lovely fresh scent (perhaps a niche marketing message for the Hefty trash bag company?).

After this weekend, and multiple discussions about the causes of vertigo, I know more about the workings of the inner ear than I ever imagined possible.  I wish I could say the same about my knowledge of hospital floorplans.

I am directionally challenged.  Hiking trails, ski runs and hospital hallways - they all look alike to me.  You throw a little tiredness and stress in and I'm really useless.  I left Geoff about 10:30 on Saturday night.  He was well-drugged and based upon how he'd spent the rest of Saturday - he'd be sleeping very soundly.  The hospital was quiet and unpopulated except for some cleaning crews and night nurses.  I thought I knew which way to go to get to the parking lot.  I did not.

I found myself wandering down strange corridors, passing through mysterious double doors, and cutting through darkened waiting rooms.  After about 15 minutes of this, I realized I was lost and I sheepishly asked the nurse on our floor which way to go to get out.  I completely screwed up following her directions - which in my defense were vague - there are lots of 'doors on the right'.  Okay?  So once again I was stumbling down another hallway filled with light maple doors and a muted rainbow of slate blue carpet tiles only to find myself approaching the very same nurse from behind this time.  I'd just made a big circle.  I was too embarrassed to ask her for directions again so I snuck past her and kept walking.  Finally, I think I entered an area for 'Authorized Personnnel Only' and may have interrupted a staff meeting.  A nurse popped out of the room and very clearly pointed me to an exit.  It took me half an hour to make it from Geoff's room to the car.  As I was leaving the parking lot, the emergency helicopter almost landed on my car.  It probably didn't even come close, but after what I'd been through, it seemed like a near miss.

Now we're home - we missed our trip to Breckenridge, but Geoff also had to cancel a business trip to Chicago, so there is a bit of a silver lining after all I suppose, in that he gets to stay home.  The regular routine and home sweet home feel really good right now.  I'm happy to be here.  Even having to do all the laundry isn't making me want to cry.

I'm wearing this today:

It has a relaxed hippie feel which I like every day, but it's especially welcome after wacky weekends.  Plus, I get to wear flip-flops and the tunic covers up the hole forming at the crotch of these pants.  Winning.

It's Meatless Monday and we'll be having baked potatoes topped with roasted veggies and a little gorgonzola cream sauce left over from last night.  Who says meatless can't be decadent?

gratitude:  the warm sun, flexibility, a night at home together, caring people

thanks and love.