Not-A-Vacation

So I am back from my long weekend away. A much-needed mini-vacation. Except it wasn't a vacation. It was a busman's holiday, so to speak -- filled with medical issues.

First the good parts:

• On Saturday night, I met up with four old friends from sleep-away camp. I haven't seen these "girls" in more than 25 years, and I last went to camp with them in the summer of 1979. Literally a week after I joined Facebook, one of my old camp friends friended me. That was a really pleasant bolt out of the blue. Over the next couple of months, we talked and decided to have a "Real Life" get-together. I must admit that I was a bit nervous. I am no longer 13 or 17 (or whatever I was when we last met up). I am over forty and feel it (and am starting to look it). My adolescent insecurities reared their ugly heads -- what if they thought I was stupid or ugly or boring? What if they all liked each other but not me? Stupid, I know, but events like this really do turn me into a quivering bag of internal insecurities. But (not shockingly) I had an excellent time. If you asked me specifically what we talked about, I don't think I could answer you. We talked to some degree about our kids and husbands and parents and siblings. We didn't talk about our jobs or politics or current events. We reminisced about things we did at camp. I either had a much worse time than they did and am suppressing my memories or I just don't dwell too much on the past (which is the most likely reason for my lack of memories). It was an extremely pleasant 3 hours, and we are hoping to get together again, next time with the families.


• The other good part was getting to hang out with my best college friends (handily married to each other) at their lake house. They have 2 daughters, one of whom is a few months younger than ThePinkThing (D1). They play together nicely and try to exclude my friends' younger daughter (D2 -- age 3). We love spending time with them. Most of the time. Well, not when we visit them at the lake, actually. Two years ago, TPT and D1 were jumping on their beds, when TPT fell, banging her face on the headboard, causing a laceration above her right eyebrow. That required a trip to the ER and 4 stitches. The next night TPT peed in her bed. When we arrived home, I found a tick in my back, which TH had to remove with tweezers. Not a stellar trip. Last summer, TH lost his glasses in the lake. We had high hopes for this weekend, with a trip to the NJ State Fair (aka the Sussex County Farm and Horse Show) and a trip to a local beach at the lake planned.

We drove up the evil I-95 corridor from MD to NJ, leaving around 10 o'clock on Saturday morning, and arriving around 3:45 pm. I swear that *&^%$-ing drive just gets longer and longer each time. Delaware is an absolute nightmare. The NJ Turnpike (which is an excellent road when there is no traffic) was dreadful for about 7 miles. There was a bonus back-up on the Garden State Parkway, near to our final destination (my grandparents' place). Five hours and 45 minutes to go 230 miles. We did have a nice visit with my grandparents, who I love to pieces.

As we were leaving my grandparents' house, I tripped over a carpet outside the back door. Those who know me know that I trip fairly easily, but I don't often fall down. When I do, it is usually a bad fall. This one was one of those -- one of those falls in slow-motion for me and for the onlookers (which included ThePinkThing). I tried to catch onto the railing but missed, so I went head first down about 3 concrete steps. That fucking hurt. I whacked my arm, belly, and head, and scraped my hands and knees. Thankfully I didn't break anything, but I raised a spectacular set of bruises. I didn't notice the worst part until Monday, actually. Apparently I landed smash onto a small cyst that is on my belly, at my waistline. On Monday I noticed that it was swollen. By yesterday, it was hurting and today it was red, hot, swollen, and really painful. Yay, an infection. So (never wanting to treat my own self) I dropped by a friend's office. He offered to lance and drain it. I said "No freaking way! How about some nice antibiotics?" So now I am on antibiotics for a giant painful subcutaneous infection on my belly. I am falling apart. The bruises in the picture are 4 days old and healing.

No big deal you say -- it was just a fall, nothing broken, just some bruises, and a small infection. What are you whining about? Why the glum face? Well, I haven't mentioned TheHusband's 9 hour emergency room visit on Monday, have I?

He'd been complaining about belly pain on and off for a few days. On Sunday, I noticed that his potbelly looked bigger than usual, and pointed that out. He agreed. On Monday the pain was a bit worse, but we went to the fair anyway. About 30 minutes into the fair, he was white, sweaty and looked like he was going to pass out. He said that the belly pain was worse and localized in his right lower quadrant. "Crap, that could very well be appendicitis," I thought. He was clearly dehydrated and improved a little after drinking 16 oz of water. We decided to go to the ER anyway, because the belly pain wasn't any better. After much discussion, we decided that B would drive us back to the lake house (~1 hour away), while T would remain with the 3 kids at the fair. We'd pick up our car and drive to the hospital in Scranton where TPT had gotten her stitches. Of course it was a Monday afternoon, so the ER was packed. After about 2.5 hours, TH was taken into a room. Eventually he had a belly CT (yum, drink that contrast now...), which didn't show a surgical abdomen. So at 11 pm we trekked back to B&T's house. TH's belly is still a little distended and it still hurts (although it is a little better now), but at least he didn't require surgery. It is off to the doctor on Monday for answers.

Thankfully, TPT was clueless about the ER visit. She had a great time at the fair, answered a question correctly at the Census Booth (who was president of the US in 1790?), saw (and petted) a boatload of animals, rode on an elephant(!) and a pony, and went on about 40,000 carnival rides. A good time was had by all of the kids, which was really the point of the trip to the fair.

But you do see why I need a vacation to recover from my vacation, don't you?