Where has the time flown? I have been keeping up with updates, but have not posted any. Too much negative stuff for me to share. In other words, I have not been a good patient. I have been doing things I know from the get-go that I should not do. This princess wants her way. So, what should we talk about today? How about traveling in a car/SUV? Or I could get nasty and talk about the states I travel through to get to my mom’s, and their highway departments or even their highway patrols.
But I will skip all that and go into being prepared. I might even throw some of it in while talking about being a prepared Cleopatra in the back seat of a vehicle.
We had another family member pass away and since I love my family, I hit the road to go to the funeral. Usually, the trip is anywhere from 8 hours to 10 hours. All depends on how rested I am before said trip; if I have had any diet issues; oh, let us just say life in general. I get my throne all prepped and pampered with my memory foam cut to size, and my pillows. That is step one in being prepared. Step two is having snacks within reach. Those are for keeping the tummy happy if I am forced to take meds. Step three is having socks so that I can remove my shoes, can’t have the tootsies getting a chill. A chill can cause a cramp. Next is making sure the cell is charged and within reach. My seat belts are buckled so I can weave this lovely body through the shoulder straps. Usually this is all I need to do to be the best passenger in the world. But lo and behold, it seems to the North Carolina Highway Patrol that I was not a prepared passenger! Shame on me! I forgot to tow along a porta-potty behind my car. Yep, that is what the Sargent told me on the phone.
You see we had made it to the northern part of that state and was in no man’s land [between exits] and a semi and van seems to have tangled. Now, I know someone lost their life in the accident and I pray for the family and their loss. Knowing I was traveling for a funeral and knowing that another family will be doing the same thing is sobering. I am not making light of that, please do not get me wrong. But when I dialed the highway number to find out how long we were going to be sitting in the parking lot of the interstate [after 2 hours], and then being told it would likely be three hours more before they let us move, I asked what I was suppose to do. My pain had skyrocketed and I could not take meds with no bathroom nearby. I could not take meds knowing I would have to eat and drink. Again, no bathroom. So, I asked the Sargent those questions. I kid you not, that joker said that since I already know I have these issues then he was sure I was prepared. He told me to use the woods! I then proceeded to tell him that the sides of the road were too steep for me to maneuver. Was I to call an ambulance? And was the Highway patrol paying that bill? His answer was, ‘that was between the ambulance company and me, he could care less if I had Santa billed’. So, after that remark, I said that I guess that they were working really hard on clearing our lanes so they could turn us around and get us off the road. He then said nope, that was not happening and we were to just sit on the road until the wreckers cleared the scene. Question. When has it been acceptable for people to park on an interstate for that long? Some of these people were mothers with babies, some senior citizens [a heck of a lot older than me] with no food nor water. Not to mention that the temperature outside was in the 90’sF. How the heck was a mother with three little ones under the age of 5 suppose to take each potty and trust someone did not do anything to the other children? How was a senior using a walker suppose to ‘go to the woods’?
So, I guess I will have to find a trailer that I can tow a porta-potty behind us each time we travel. Who knew that would be a ‘be prepared’ requirement?
That set the tone of how I would handle the several days during the funeral. I had to send my husband to run errands with my mom for herself and me. I tried to not get into the car for anything. We made it to the funeral but, the sitting proper in the pew caused the burn in the spine to fire up. Thus, I tried alternating sitting on one leg after the other. I had my right leg tucked under me and when I needed to raise from the pew, it was not pretty. The right leg refused to move. I literally had to take my hands and shove the foot out from under me and then just looked at my husband and told him I could not even stand. All I had, from the hips down, was fire. I could not tell if my feet were even touching the ground. All there were was a deep burning fire in both hips and legs. So, we took our lovely time and I dragged my legs to move myself. I was too scared to lift them off the ground. Mainly because I could not tell if they were responding to the signals I was trying to give them. I was having such a time trying to keep myself together, but this girl did it and made it to the car. Just to cry sitting in the front seat. After my husband got us away from the church, I was able to climb in the back to lie on my side. In a dress no less.
Who knew that could exhaust you to the point of just wanting to crawl in a hole? I know that if we had not had to park on an interstate for five hours that I could have handled the funeral a little better. But, just this one single trip has put some serious concerns that I have to tackle. How do I continue traveling to West Virginia anymore? It is funny, everyone [really just a few] think I should show up each time something goes on that far, but they sure can’t come my direction. I know I try to miss lead them into thinking I am doing just hunky-dory, but they do not want the truth. My ego will not let me yell and scream my real thoughts. Much less will it let me tell the truth about how I am “getting along”. To me, my life is not a competition; it is fact. I tried to “fix” what is wrong with the body. My “fix” did wonders, compared to where I was in 2014; but with age, Scoliosis, arthritis, and nerve damage (that affects pain and body functions) things will never go back to the spry self. This chick is not 30 anymore.
And it seems that it is taking me longer to ‘recover’ from traveling. I am still staggering around when I am walking. In the house I do pretty good: lots of things to run my hands along to support myself. But outside, nothing but air. I have had to drop to the sides of my raised garden beds. I have had to take a knee several times to keep from kissing the ground. I just hope no one witnesses those times, because getting up might not be very graceful. I have really thought about getting a strong dog to be a support for me. I know my son’s dog has let me use her once or twice to rise from the floor. But to me she is still a little small for the all-time job. I have heard of people using small ponies, but do they live in the house with the people?