Voyage of the Damned Sank

Long rant ahead. Journal entry really. Good news as you read this, no one is mortal danger, the Russians are bombing my house, and we are safe and sound for the most part. That still doesn’t make it less of a P.I.T.A.

Also,didn’t edit this. I’m a crappy editor on a good day. On steroids, “give a shit” didn’t come to mind .

Here we go

If you see me in the yard looking like I’m searching for something, you aren’t wrong. I’m convinced that someone has buried a Tiki doll in my yard, no other way to explain the recent spate of bad luck around the Casa-Del-Sank-A-Ray.

Of course, you probably won’t see me because at the moment, digging around in the yard is about the last thing on mind.

I think the Tiki Curse started back in early February. I was walking on the lake, minding my own business, fishing, when I stepped in hole and sprained my angle and broke my foot. One of the injuries that didn’t hurt so much when I did it, but see me about three days later.. couldn’t put any weight on it whatsoever.

Because this curse is thorough, when the ankle was at its worst and my foot was throbbing with pain at the least pressure, get a little run of norovirus that had me trying to crawl the can every 30 minutes. In the words of Mrs S. “You’re sort of pathetic right now”.

For my trouble I got fitted with the single most expensive boot I’ll ever own. Good news, after that things were OK. Even flew to California for a couple of weeks with the fancy grey boot.

Two weeks ago, made a return trip to California. I had mowed the lawn on the Sunday before and at one point felt a wee tingle in my lower back.. didn’t think much of it. Monday got on a plane, no issues. Got a rental car and drove to the Inland Empire where my companies headquarters are.. three and half hours with traffic. Still no real trouble. Went out to dinner, and at dinner noticed that sitting at the table was sort of uncomfortable. Made a Trader Joe’s trip to stock up for the week, went back to the El Crumy-camino Hotel and settled in for the night.

Next morning (Tuesday) I was in pain. I did pile in the car and go to the office. Sated through the day. But by the middle of the day, I couldn’t get up out of chair without a death grip on desk to push myself up. That night was terrible, and by Wednesday morning.. I was in pretty severe pain. Walking more than a few steps was a problem. Putting on shoes, forget it.

A trip to the Urgent Care got a some muscle relaxants. Thursday afternoon I called my travel department and asked for an extension of the trip, there was no way I could get to the LAX and get on plane on Friday night. They were great. The trip was postponed to Monday. Sunday night I would move to the Airport Hilton at LAX to break up the trip a bit. Thank goodness I work for a company that’s so supportive.

All went well, except for the weekend spent in the hotel. Thankfully, my great boss and really great team out in Cali, were amazingly supportive. The brought food and water to the hotel, made a daily CVS runs for heating pads, Ibuprofen, an antibiotic (another problem that popped up) and a different muscle relaxant (made another trip to a different Urgent Care on Friday).

That second one was not good.. made me catatonic though part of Saturday, so I stopped taking that one. No good.

Fast-forward to Monday. The Hilton had bell service, so I wouldn’t have to carry my bags or lift anything. Toothbrush was about all I could lift. The plan was to take the shuttle to the airport, meet the wheelchair guy, get to the gate, wheelchair to the door of the plane, get on, and get the “F” home.

Simple plan, but forget thee not the curse.

1. Bell guy got me to the shuttle line, but was told I needed to stand in line to get on the shuttle. If I didn’t stand there, I might miss it and I was cutting it closer than I usually would to try to limit time at the airport. Waiting time- 20 minutes. Standing. Excruciating
2. I climbed on the shuttle. Told the driver I needed the Delta terminal, sat and white knuckled the rails to try to brace myself against any movement.
3. Mr. driver blew past Delta like it wasn’t even there. When I leaned in and asked his response was “Oh crap, sorry about that, I’ll go around again real quick after I drop everyone off”. Well, “real quick” and “LAX” when you’re in a car are not analogous. Thirty-five minutes later, I was dropped off at Delta Terminal 2. At LAX Delta is at terminals 2 and 3. Looking at my boarding pass I was at terminal “B”. I’ve been through LAX 20 times over the years, wasn’t sure where that was. According to the driver, that was the Bradley Terminal, and he was sure there were no Delta gates there, so he dropped me at Terminal 2. As in get out, this you.
4. Driver dropped me off, dropped my bags on the curb and off he went. OMG.. I had the roller bag, backpack on it, CPAP on my shoulder, walking like a robot with beads of sweat on my forehead. Thankfully an angel with a wheelchair saw me, came over and asked if I needed help.
5. Wheelchair guy checked my bag, got my boarding pass and came over to tell me “you’re like three terminals away from where you need to be, and you have 40 minutes to get to the gate.” Cool, stress and pain. “But I’ll get you there. We’ll go through TSA here, take the tarmac shuttle over to Terminal B and get you to the gate. I WILL STAY WITH YOU’”
6. TSA dread. At the TSA screening station we went to, pre-check was closed. So.. long line, I had to get up and walk through the cancer booth. Since I had a back brace on I was escorted (walked) to a private booth so I could open my shirt and pants and get felt up. “Any area tender”, Must have noticed the sweat and watering eyes. “Anything between the shoulders and the ass ..” I ago through.
7. The shuttle ride was another 15 minutes of agonizing bus ride. On the other end there was no chair and a huge ramp to navigate. I would have to walk up two stories to get up to the concourse level. The monitor called a golf cart for me, which thankfully came pretty quick.
8. The golf cart was piloted by older African American women, also an angel on earth. She took one look at me and her nurturing gene went into overdrive. “Ooh honey, you come here and sit next me. My goodness you look rough.” For the rest of ride, which was pretty long actually, confirming that I’d never have made it, she kept looking at me and telling me that she was going to pray for me and my recovery. She was also going to pray for my wife because “she needs you healthy and strong dear.” I didn’t bother to correct her.
9. I made it to the gate with about 10 minutes to spare. Only to hear an announcement that the flight is delated 60 minutes. I had ordered a wheelchair, not one anywhere in sight. “Take your bags and have a seat over there” The handicapped seats were all taken. Lotta of very able bodied youths spread out charging things. Fact is there was no way I was sitting down anyway. Standing, while tiring, was the least painful position. At this point I’m standing, standing with eyes closed, intently focused on breathing and trying to control my back spasms.

Flight home I was in a window seat, in coach. One last insult, in a row with three guys my size next to me. Didn’t move for three and half hours.

Sorry, this was a long story. On the MSP end I had a chair waiting in jetway. Got wheeled to the curb and made it home. Thank goodness.

Tuesday the family flew to Delaware for the daughters’ college graduation. I stayed home. They laid out clothes for me, made some meals, and set me up with a walker so I could get up out bed and out of chairs. Walker. Yeah.. embarrassing.

This week has been better than last week, less pain during the day. That said, recovery has stalled a bit. During the day, I’m mostly ok. Slow, but can walk and feed myself. Nights are still rough. There is NO comfortable position in bed. I’ve started a course of steroids today that I think are helping.

UG, sorry for the rant, but man if this is what’s inshore for me in old age… not good.

BTW After getting back from Delaware on Friday, the wife and daughter drove down to Des Moines so the daughter could be in a wedding. Mrs S was her Plus 1. Well, the curse hit her with car trouble . They had to leave the car in Iowa, and rent a car to get home. Planning to pick it up on Saturday.

Bottom line, we are being very careful about black cats and cracks in the sidewalk at the moment. Lot of good deeds and positive thoughts.