National Lampoon's Beach Vacation

As I write from another time zone sipping a relaxing beverage, it's hard to believe that today's events included a six-hour drive, intensive medical attention that included an IV drip, a power outage at the drugstore, and my husband’s near arrest.

I woke at 5:30 a.m. to look for my walking friends. They were nowhere to be found; I realized this as I noticed that I was about to hit a pedestrian in my car. Ordinarily, plowing someone down would be the most exciting part of my day. Not so today.

Scott and I were showered, dressed for the beach and packed by 6:30. Lillee Grace got dressed and rolled her suitcase into the den where she asked when would be leaving for the beach. We were wondering the same thing as we looked to find nana sleeping in the den staring at the wall. We looked closer, noticing her face a ghastly white. She truly was, in the words of the song, "a lighter shade of pale." Of course, that song didn't mention sweating profusely, coughing, and chest pains. She wasn’t “skipping the light fandango” or “turning cartwheels cross the floor.” She was definitely “feeling kind of seasick.”

My mom doesn’t get sick and call the doctor. She gets sick, diagnoses herself, and calls in her prescription. She was so sick yesterday that she called in a “consult.” Her doctor at home was stumped. He told her to seek a third opinion. I sent her to the urgent care Center, also known as "Doc in a box."

I sent Scott to run some errands and generally do my bidding. He returned. Some time passed. No sign of mom. We played with Baxter. We played with Lillee Grace. Still no sign of mom. We then decided it was time for the big guns. We called in Miss Mary to hang out with children while we went in search of her. We arrived at Doc in the box to find her lying flat on the examining table, covered from head to toe with a hospital blanket, with IV antibiotics dripping into her arm. It was pneumonia.

Things had been frustrating; so frustrating, in fact, that I had offloaded my luggage, ordered Scott to his car, and suggested he go to the beach without me. He refused and sat out in the waiting room at Doc of the box as I watched the steady drip of the clear antibiotics flowing into my mother's arm each drop representing another hour ticking off the clock.

The doctor walked into the room and told me that my mother was extremely ill. He announced this with a tone of voice much like one would imagine that the veterinarian used to diagnose old yeller. My emotions were a virtual potpourri including anger, concern, sadness, and the usual annoyance with Scott.

Miss Mary was in surprisingly a good mood given that she had been called to our house on what she believed would be a day off. Why was she in such a good mood? Scott held the answer to that question. It turns out that a truck driver had delivered a very large metal building to her. Somehow, this metal building was made possible through the United States government. The building was hers to keep even if she one day moves to a new home. She has that little building. This made her happy and very agreeable to our pleas for help. She agreed to come back tomorrow. My newly-married friend Amy agreed to keep Baxter tonight. April, our realtor, agreed to keep Baxter tomorrow night. Of course, her commission just went from 6% to 20%.

Everything was worked out. I sent Scott to get prescriptions filled and to purchase BBQ for us along with dessert. He dropped off the prescription, was told to come back in approximately half an hour. He came home with BBQ and what he thought was chocolate cobbler. It turns out that the BBQ place forgot the cobbler. 2^nd worst part of the day.

He then went to the drugstore to get the prescription only to find that they had plenty of Lortab but not any antibiotic. A new truck had been unloaded, and he was told that several hours would pass before they could fill the prescription. He went to another drug store where they told him the prescription would be filled in five minutes. Scott went to the magazines. Five minutes and twenty pages of Maxim later (he confessed that he saw Fergie on the cover), the prescription was ready. However, just as he was about to pay, the power went out and the register would not work. When the power finally turned back on, he paid and came home.

I loaded the refrigerator with lemonade and water, gave my mother enough Lortab to choke a horse, and finally we were on the road, hours after Lillee Grace first rolled her suitcase into the den.

This was already a blog-worthy story. Scott jokingly told people at his office about it and was warned that, should something else happened, like a traffic ticket or a flat tire, he should take that as a sign and immediately go home. This trip was not meant to be. If this were a novel, that conversation would be foreshadowing.

Hours later, things seemed to be finally on the right track. We stopped for photographs at the Florida State line and enjoyed our free orange juice.

Then came Cottonwood, Florida. Cottonwood, it turns out, is an old Seminole name meaning speed trap. Suddenly, the speed limit dropped from 65 to 35. Suddenly, we're being followed by a police car with his blue lights on. After giving the officer several expired insurance cards, we found the right one. In addition to learning where are our insurance card was, we also learned that the month had fallen off the tag. We also learned what it costs to get ticketed for driving 20 mph for over the speed limit in Cottonwood, Florida. In case you're interested, it's close to $200.

Finally, we were on the road. Of course, the Check fuel light came on approximately 7 miles from the hotel. We coasted in surprisingly without running out of gas.

It was almost completely worth it to see Lillee Grace's reaction to the cool hotel room, hotel, the beach, the shuttle ride over to the restaurants, the macaroni and cheese she had, and our eventual return to her room. We’re here with the car safely tucked away in the garage. And we are hoping that tomorrow will not bring with it any further contact with law enforcement, any more IV fluids, and anymore bizarre power outages.