I awake on Tuesday morning to hips so stiff it feels like someone has jammed rods into them. I simply can’t move. I take a hot shower because I can’t see how to maneuver in and out of the tub. It seems to help a little but I still have no idea how I am going to get myself finished and ready. HistoryBoy fell asleep at some point and I try to wake him but again I think I will need a shovel to move him.
Thankfully I only have to drive myself to my mom’s house and my brother is going to drive me to the airport. I leave HistoryBoy for the moment. I need to concentrate on getting myself ready. It takes a lot longer than it should but eventually we are on our way. The only way HistoryBoy got ready is for me to hand him his bathing suit and remind him we will be in Florida in a few hours and he can go swimming. He says ok as long as he can sleep on the plane. At my mom’s, my brother and his fiancé are waiting and then drive us from there to the airport.
Traffic wasn’t too bad and we get there fairly quickly. I am still moving like a slug and in addition now I am feeling like I am going to be sick. Wonderful. My brother goes to get me a wheelchair so I do not have to walk. He gets me help, and then gets in line for me. In the time it takes for them to sort me out, and wait in line, we can no longer check my bags. I have two options. Take 11:00 with a 2 hour layover and get to Florida at 6 or take a 6:00 and get there at 8:15. I ask why can’t you just check my bags. I am feeling at my wits end. I feel horrible. I want to lie down. I do not want to have a layover. I do not want to come back. My brother does not have much patience with my indecision and yells and me. I break down and cry. HistoryBoy wraps his arms around me and hugs me. I feel so awful. I just want to go to bed. I don’t want to get on a plane, but I am supposed to be on this one. And now I can’t.
Ok. DECISION TIME. I can’t do a layover. I know that. One – I feel awful; I do not want to be sick in some random city where I can’t lie down. Two and Three– I have HistoryBoy, he is 10 and has Asperger’s and ADHD, entertaining him and keeping a rein on him for two hours in my condition will not work, unless I have a REALLY BIG history book which I did not bring with me this trip. Four – did I mention I feel like crap? So I guess I have to come back tonight. The woman was nice enough; she told me an exact time to come back for handicap help. And the handicap help woman told me to avoid such problems, just check your bags at the curbs next time.
We go back to my mom’s. I crash in her bed for about 3 - 4 hours, so does HistoryBoy. We wake up feeling much more alive although I am still sore as anything. I am moving slightly faster than a slug now though so it is an improvement. We eat a late lunch and head to the airport and get there just before 5 and check our bags curb side, no probs. Why didn’t I do this earlier? (It cost $4 more but I would have made my flight, DOH) We make it through all of it this time, and through the flight and to Florida.
We arrive about 8:15 pm just like we should and HistoryBoy wants to go swimming because he has been waiting ALL day in his bathing suit to go swimming. I am so tired I could go to bed as soon as we arrive but I can sense a meltdown in the offing and I do not want to start the vacation on a bad note so I tell him that we can go as long as he gets out as soon as I say it is time to get out. I am going to soak for a few minutes in the Hot Tub and see if it helps my hips and he can play in the pool until I am done. He agrees. When we are done, we both crash and do not wake up until after 10 am, closer to 11, the next morning. So begins out Florida vacation.
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