Thursday, February 17, 2011

P.S. - Not Always a Vacation Destination

Mike read my first post, Here I Am - As in "Amateur" 
"Why isn't there anything there about me? I mean, there is - you say that I blamed you for the truck breaking down, and for all they know, we broke up!"

(Sigh.)  Okay, so here's more of the story.  

Mike got a call on a Monday.  Mike's sister was at Desert Regional Hospital in a coma.  His brother-in-law said "I think you guys better come out here."  That usually means it's bad, right?  We packed a few things and headed towards the desert, picking up Mike's brother along the way, and arriving in the desert late that night.

Tuesday morning, Mike and his brother-in-law met with the doctor.  The mood in the waiting room was somber.  I did what I could to provide moral support, but found sitting in a hospital all day, quite frankly, exhausting.  Finally, visiting hours were over.  We headed out to check in to a motel.

Despite his worries, Mike asked if there was anything I needed.  I really wanted sugar. Gummi worms, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream....and some Arizona Peace Ceylon Tea.  I picked up a pack of cigarettes for Mike.  I don't like that he smokes, but now's not the time to quibble...

When we went to leave, the truck wouldn't start.  Stress and frustration reached it's limit. Mike blamed me, cuz it was my idea to stop at Rite Aid, and if only we hadn't, the truck wouldn't have know, perfectly logical.

Well, I wasn't about to take the blame for the truck's mysterious ailment. I grabbed my bags and headed off in the direction of the Motel 6, momentarily forgetting that I didn't even know where it was. 

After a few hours, Mike and his brother, having towed the truck to a service station, arrived at our room.  I could tell he wanted to talk to me, but was waiting for a private moment.  When his brother went outside for a cigarette, he spoke.

First thing that morning, the doctor had advised that his sister wasn't going to make it.  They should say their goodbyes, and consider making her final arrangements.

What? Why wasn't I told this? Wasn't I supposedly here for support?  How can I be supportive if I don't know what the heck is going on?

All he could say was how sorry he was.  The pressure of the day, the shock of the doctor's news, the heat (ugh!) of the desert, and then the final straw, the damned truck breaking down...He loves me so much and is so grateful to have me here with him.  He also noticed that I got a room right by the pool, which both he and his brother really wanted, and that I cranked up the A/C so that it was nice and cold when they got there.

There were also plenty of extra towels, I told him. "Oh, and one more thing..."  Out of a plastic Rite Aid bag, came the piece de resistance - a pack of American Spirits (Blue).

I think that may have been a tear I saw in his eye....

Thursday morning, Mike's sister woke up.  

Thank God, sometimes doctors are wrong.


  1. I think when we are facing life and death the lemons we could use to become lemonade look more like monsters than anything...I can't imagine the exhaustion you all were experiencing. I'm sure you being there to care about the little things made a huge difference.

  2. You are a very good story teller! Visiting from SITS! I see you just started your blog. Welcome to the wonderful world of blogging. It is so much fun! So nice to meet you. Love, Becky


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