OVERWHELMING

So, let's start from where I am now and back-track. Right now, I'm at home, on a Friday afternoon at 2:00 watching The Bachelor that I DVR'd on Monday night. (And can I just say...WOW. Drama. And for Ben. He's not even that great of a guy.) So now...why am I at home on Friday instead of at work? Let's go back in time, shall we?

Step 1: Where it all Began
A few weeks ago, my mom was having some chest pains. The day after those chest pains, my dad was leaving for South Africa for two weeks for work, and my mom was supposed to spend that time in Denver with my aunt and grandpa. Well, my dad ended up taking my mom to the E.R. to see if the chest pains were serious. She had to stay overnight, and the doctor told her regardless of how her test results came out, she wasn't supposed to go to Denver because of the thin air. So, that left my mom, with chest pains, by herself in ID for two weeks. Unacceptable.

Step 2: The Plan
My dad decided to fly Amanda (in Seattle) into Sandpoint for a few days to stay with my mom. At that point, Amanda had a doctor's appointment in Poulsbo on Friday the 13th, so she wouldn't be able to stay with my mom the whole time. Enter: Heidi. So I was looking into flying to ID for a long weekend to stay with my mom for the few days before my dad would be back. My mom's test results came back all clear, but the festering idea of visiting my mom and sister for a long weekend had been planted in my mind. There was no escaping the inevitable.

Step 3: The Plan in Action
I bought a plane ticket, leaving Grand Rapids on 1/13 and returning on 1/17. Amanda had her doctor appointment when I was supposed to fly in. So we concocted a plan for me to take the Light Rail from the airport to Pioneer Square in Seattle, then walk to the ferry and take it to Bainbridge Island, where my mom and Amanda would pick me up. I was So. Excited for the independent travel aspect. The plans were made. All was ready.

Step 4: Impending Doom
Grand Rapids has had VERY little snow this winter season. As in...maybe two 1" snowfalls. Child's play. Nothing. So go figure, that the night before my flight leaves, we get our first big snowfall and the world FREAKS OUT. But I had faith. I woke up at 5:00am on 1/13 to catch my flight. I thought I better check the status before we left. Sure enough. CANCELLED. (WHY does this always happen to me? Please reference this blog post and this blog post for my past travel horror stories.) So I went to the airport to be rebooked. (Let me take this opportunity to mention that my flight was the ONLY one in/out of Grand Rapids that was cancelled that day. THE ONLY ONE.)

I was supposed to fly United both flights TO Seattle and American both flights TO Grand Rapids. However, the first leg of my trip on 1/13 had to be bumped to American. Fine. So instead of 7:40, my flight was now leaving at 11:00am. I'd arrive in Seattle at 3:40pm. Not bad. So I waited. And I waited. Inevitably, because I'm convinced that the kind folks at GRR have no idea what they're doing, we boarded the plane five minutes before we were supposed to be taking off. Then, there was the always lovely de-icing of the plane. (Don't get me wrong - I know this is important.) So. We arrive in Chicago. Five minutes early!...only to find that a plane is being de-iced at our gate and we have to wait. And wait. For fifteen minutes. I'm getting antsy. So we pull into the gate. I wait at the jet bridge for my plane-side checked bag. Of COURSE it's the last one to be delivered from the belly. Of course. I take it and run. (Side note: for some horrible reason I thought it made more sense to bring an over-the-shoulder adidas bag instead of a small rolling suitcase. Never again in my life will I make this idiot judgment call.)


Step 5: Keep the Doom Trail Rolling!
The flight attendant announced connecting gates while we were waiting on the tarmac. She said the SEA/TAC flight was gate K8. At this point I had about ten minutes before the flight was supposed to leave. I was winded, nervous, sweating in my armpits in the worst way and had a twenty pound ADIDAS BAG slug over my shoulder. I ran. I ran to the K concourse. I ran until my throat and mouth were parched. I ran until I had zero ounces of energy to spare. I ran in a shameless way, shoulder checking Asians as I yelled my apologies behind me. There it was. Gate K8.

The kind attendant took my fake boarding pass so that she could assign me a seat number. Then, she pitifully looked at me, sweating from my head, cheeks flushed, tears welling up and said, "I don't have a reservation for you - this is for a United flight, not an American flight." AH! Suck it, misinformed, kind of mean and intimidating flight attendant who told me the wrong gate! "Where are United flights?!" "In Terminal 1, sweetie. I don't know if you'll make it."

I took off running. And I can't tell you...I can't put into words how deep I dug for the energy to keep running. I called Dan, fighting tears and said, "If I can't make it, what's the point of trying?" He said, "You can do it! Run!" So, thankfully wearing my running shoes, I took off through Chicago O'Hare airport with my adidas bag slung across my (now bruised) collar bone. Wearing jeans, wool socks, a long sleeve shirt, sweater and waterproof jacket, I ran. I ran again. I honestly thought my legs were just going to give out. But I followed the signs. I was finally on course for the "B" and "C" gates, when they stopped showing arrows for "C"!! WTF?! How cruel can you be?! (Aside from installing ZERO moving sidewalks in Terminal 3. Help a girl out!) I stopped and panted to a maintenance man to point me in the direction of gate "C31." (31...of course...all the way at the end.) Once I saw signs for "Gates C1-C31" I had renewed strength. I all out sprinted down the C concourse. At the very end...I saw it...

The plane door closed with an announcement on the gate screen: "Boarding for Seattle/Tacoma now closed." I slammed myself into the gate desk. "I'm supposed to be on that flight!" The helpless attendant just looked at me and said, "I'm sorry...I called your name." Now, I know there's nothing in the world she could have done at that point. Bu tin that moment, of nothing but disappointment and exhaustion, I wanted to look into her face and yell - yes, yell - "Do you think I heard you calling my name from TWO TERMINALS away, bitch?! And if I did, do you think I could've gotten here ANY faster?!" However...I definitely did not do that, but managed to mumble, "Okay, thanks" before I left her presence, sat with my back to the other travelers who were obviously paying attention to the sprinting, sweating girl and cried a little. I called Dan and he lovingly shared my frustration.

Now, let me just say this. Again, I don't think I can put into words how disgusting I was at this point. Then I say I sweat through my sweater, I don't just mean the pits. I mean, I could see sweat seeping through the forearms of my clothing. (Luckily it was black, so nobody else noticed.) But I literally had to use kleenex to wipe my neck and face off. And my hair whisps were soaked. I'm sure that I was quite the flustered sight to see.

Okay. So. Flight cancelled, missed connection...it couldn't get much worse, right? WRONG.

Step 6: Aaaaand the Fun Keeps Coming
I was re-schedule for a flight that left Chicago at 3:30 and arrived in Seattle at 6:00. Perfect! Suppertime! (Due to my extended layover, I finished Mockingjay! Hunger Games complete!) So, 3:00 comes and we board. 3:30 comes, and the pilot lets us know that there's a wiring problem with the cockpit radio - but the mechanic is working on it and just needs to run some tests...should be about ten minutes. Well, ten minutes turns into an HOUR and ten minutes. So then, we deboard the plane. Our new flight is scheduled to leave at 6:20pm. We end up leaving Chicago at 6:45pm and arriving in Seattle at 9:00pm Pacific Time.

Oh. My. Word. None of these incidents would have been that bad alone - but all three in one day made for a VERY tense Heidi. My body was so sore the next day. It was totally un-funny.

But now...back to why I'm home on Friday.

Step 7: Trouble on the Home Front
The week before I left, Dan's eyes were a little red. We didn't think it was pink eye or anything because there was zero irritation, itching, sensitivity or oozing. But Sunday, while I was gone, Dan called and told me he felt like he was having hard time swallowing and he felt like he had something lodged in his throat. Oh GREAT. So, the man who brushed off yearly physicals and general health, declared that he's independently and of his own free will, going to Urgent Care. Hm. That's slightly worrisome.

So as I was trying to convince myself that he didn't have cancer, I got a phone call from him that the doctor said "Pink eye." So he got some prescription drops and that was that. I thought. I knew he hadn't been sleeping well and seemed to be fighting some kind of something. But he wasn't letting on that it was that bad while I was away.

So it came time for me to come home. (The only incident - I was supposed to leave Chicago at 5:20 for a half hour flight and arrive in Grand Rapids at 7:10. We didn't LEAVE Chicago until 7:10 due to de-icing. It totally wasn't a big deal, but at that point, I was crying on the tarmac because I wanted nothing more than to be home. When we flew across Lake Michigan and I could see the MI shoreline, I breathed a sigh of relief.)

Step 8: Heidi the Nurse
ANYWAY. So I get home, ready to just veg for like, a week because of my travel stresses. Only to find that...Dan's not doing so good. His eyes are still red, he's not sleeping well, has a brutal dry cough and has been suffering from a headache every since he was diagnosed with Pink Eye. Perfect. Wednesday night I spent the evening washing pillow cases, towels, wash cloths and disinfecting toilet flush handles, door knobs, steering wheels, faucets and anything touch-able. I bought nighttime cough syrup and un-germified, washable heating packs for Dan's head/eyes.

Now, this guy didn't miss ANY work last year for being sick. And since Monday he's missed 2 1/2 days due to headaches. I've seen online (online medical advice: DANGEROUS TERRITORY for high strung worriers) that sometimes headaches are a symptom of pink eye and sometimes it's a lot more serious (if it comes with blurred vision and/or confusion). So all week I'd been nagging Dan about his vision. No problems, but yet these headaches have obviously been debilitating.

So Thursday, Dan came home from work at noon and slept all afternoon. He went to bed at 7:30 and slept hard until I woke him up at 6:30 this morning. Prognosis: Negative. No work today. So I called Dan's boss and told him the situation. (The guy sounds intimidating and it impresses me that Dan works for him.) So at 8:00 I took Dan to Urgent Care. Again. We saw a doctor who did a bunch of poking around, lights in the eyes, etc.

Turns out, it's viral pink eye, not bacterial pink eye. Which basically means the eye drops were doing nothing. (I guess bacterial is the super contagious kind that heals within days. Viral is when you're already fighting some kind of infection and it just kinda spreads to your eyes. It takes a few weeks to heal and there's no real way to make it stop - your body just has to work through it.) So the headache symptom ended up to be inconclusive. No real reason. The doctor said it might go hand-in-hand with the pink eye, or be totally unrelated. He gave us a prescription for a super strong painkiller (I think it's akin to vicodin) since Dan's regular migraine medicine wasn't working. I'm supposed to monitor him - and if there's dizziness, vomiting or blurred vision, I'm supposed to take him to the E.R.

So...yeah. I opted to stay home and check up on him instead of hoping he'd be able to stumble to a hospital on his own if I'd been at work. I wish the doctor could've given us a reason for the headaches, or when they'll stop or what we can do. But, as someone who loves to know details, facts and have concrete answers and evidence...I tend to crave more information than what's available in most situations in my life.

Whew. A huge CONGRATS to you if you read that whole thing. I mostly took the time to write this so that in a few months I can look back and laugh (although, this fiasco might take more than a few months to become funny). After all this hassle, Dan and I are seriously considering driving to Seattle in May/June to welcome little baby Erickson into the world. And I'm being serious about that. Road trip?