Trains, Planes, Illness and Choices

 

 

The Roomette. Those stairs lead to the upper bunk we can neither access, one of us not bendy enough, the other too fluffy.

We're dealing with an interesting scenario. Soon we are to launch our Amtrak trip to the  Tampa FL area to visit George’s brother, who is ill. Since we’re traveling all that way and we haven’t been to Florida for many years, after spending time with his brother, from there we’ve (read “I’ve” since all tech and travel plans are on me) planned a couple side trips to visit a friend and a cousin.

We’ll drive about 4.5 hours from our home in Winona MN to spend the first night of this Old People Extravaganza in the Chicago suburb of Bartlett IL with a dear friend, get in a good gabfest. Wednesday she’ll take us to the commuter station where we’ll catch a train into Union Station, which is handy dandy since that’s exactly where we’ll board the Capital Limited for Leg One of our Amtrak Journey. 

Trip Overview:  Winona MN to Bartlett IL to Chicago Union station, to Train One to DC (roomette);  to Train Two to Tampa area (roomette) three nights; to private car driving us to The Villages For three nights; after which The Villages friend drives to meet my cousin halfway to Oviedo (where cousin lives) to pass off said Old People for three nights; to departing Oviedo for home on the Amtrak out of Winter Park, twenty minutes from my cousins, to DC; and DC to Chicago; and Chicago to burbs and home.  The only time we'll be manning  or womaning (Grrr!) our transportation is driving back and forth from Winona to Bartlett. Nice. No rental cars in the midst of all that! Soon away we’ll blast off on our long-and-carefully-charted trip!

Or will we? (Enter DRAMA from Stage Left-Field)

You see my husband has been ill since the end of September. He is guardedly better but definitely not good—by a long shot. Cause of his misery after three urgent care visits, 2 appointments, two IVs, 14 hours of being seen: Clueless. Toward the beginning, a two-week fever and super wonky blood work--fever now thankfully gone--they suspected something tick related (not Lyme) so a 10-day protocol of 200 mg/day of heavy duty antibiotics ensued. His “whatever” was/is producing lingering extreme fatigue and occasional light headedness. And he is unsteady on his feet.

Tick results came back negative--at least thus-far. Symptoms and wonky blood work continue but some blood work has “resolved,” as they say, or is “trending in the right direction”—like a sloth on the "run." He's wiped out.

These issues have caused us to wonder: a) should we pull the plug on this trip?; b) should we fly instead?; c) do we care how much money we lose on any changes? and d) should we head out in spite of his issues because staying home doesn’t get rid of them? Just cross our fingers and bloody GO FOR IT?

As for choice c] (do we care about money), of course. We’re financially okay but we don’t have money to burn. To decide to fly at this point in the game could lose us serious Amtrak money, should we just cancel, plus add the whackydoodle price we’d pay for purchasing plane tickets on last-minute flights.

Also, for those who say, OH MY WHY would you subject a less-than-perky man to two nights on a train when he could fly and be there in a little over three hours?! BWA-HAHAHA! Like actual time in the sky has anything to do with how many hours flying takes! First we have 2.5 hours to get to MSP, and the best rates leave at 6 a.m. so that means a hotel the night before. Then security and making it to the gate, hoping for no gate changes, and hoping it’s on time and prying the ol’ bod into a seat fit for an American Girl Doll and perhaps languishing on the tarmac for hours and then ZIPPITY ZAP in three hours in the air we arrive in Tampa to sit on the Tarmac and … You know how it can go.

Enter Winter Weather from stage right and ...

The last time we flew, the woman sitting next to me hacked her snot-laden self to pieces while never once covering her mouth. Not once. Also fragile George would be stuck sitting next to me (How do you feel? Are you okay? Do you need water?) after we pay extra money for the privilege of choosing that marital bliss opportunity. Whereas on the train, we have a roomette (good LORD, more cozy togetherness) but at least we can close our curtain-that-serves-as-a-door and keep all snot-laden folks at bay. For two days, over two trains.

But, on the train we’d get all those yum meals in a dining car whereas on the plane if we’re lucky we’d get two peanuts in a package we can’t tear open, or perhaps nothing. In either case we’d get to sleep sitting up because neither of us can make it into the top bunk in the train’s roomette. Trust me: we sized up that opportunity when we took the Amtrak to Albuquerque last April. Nonetheless, it was a trip we really enjoyed right up until on the way home when our sleeper car was DIRECTLY behind the engine, its train whistle blowing all night, drilling BLARING siren-ous sounds into the dark recesses of our brains. But still, compared to driving or flying, we appreciated the scenery and the lull of the clickety-clack and the chance to meet new folks during meals.

What have the docs thus far said about him traveling? “If he feels up to it, he can go.”

What, exactly, is “feeling up to it?” That he can manage to get onto the train with the help of a wheelchair? That he can make it to the bathroom without falling over during a train shift? I mean he can have meals brought to the roomette and … But there’s the on-and-the-off of the commuter train, and the Leg One to DC train, and the same on Leg two and reverse all of that and  … Does he have to feel GOOD to “feel LIKE” it?

What should we do? His brother is combating the Big C and the outlook is somewhere between short and long and they are each other's only siblings who haven't seen each other for two years and  …. Anyone who asks how George is, and we tell them the truth-- and the options in front of us-- finds it necessary to weigh in with STRONG opinions about “Of course go!” or “Are you nuts to subject him to that?” to “MY GOODNESS FLY!” to…

What to do. What do DO?!

         TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK…(we already know some of this, but not all of it yet)

 

 

 

Post Vaccine Reentry (?)

Early this morning one of my beloved cousins phoned. Such a happy way to begin a day—right up until he posed the most difficult question I’ve been asked in a year.

Frankly, the last year rendered nary a question with a tough choice since all questions required no brain power: The answer was no. No we’re not getting together with anyone. No we’re not getting haircuts in salons. No we’re not skipping our masks, ever. No we’re not considering attending book club in person. No we’re not grocery shopping in the store since we’re ordering online and picking up in the parking lot. No we’re not sitting indoors with children and grands for Thanksgiving, Christmas or any other whatevers. No we’re not (fill in the blank). No. No. NO!

But my cousin delivered a question for which I don’t want the answer to be no. (I don’t think.) George and I are now both two vaccines in, although not yet past that prescribed “two weeks past.” But … this morning’s question from my cousin involves long-distance travel.

Travel?! Holy schmoly!

Will we come if he books our annual family reunion reservation which was of course canceled last year? As was every other delightful thing we’d booked for our lives.

My cousin’s question comes with a financial commitment. A few years ago the cousins began a lovely new tradition of each chipping in to rent a large house for a few days so as to spend every last non-sleeping minute together. This luxury replaced the annual grind over which hotel/motel to select that could: accommodate everyone’s budget; offered large enough “food rooms” for us to drag our caches into and engage in a proper snacky cocktail hour; satisfy personal tastes regarding extra space vs desired room configurations…

After that first  experimental year with our own community kitchen for cooking and game playing—no elevator waits, loud neighbors, bad air conditioners--we were hooked. We even rented a place with a large enough living room to comfortably seat us all for a little TV watching, which happened when we needed a break from talking. Talking, talking, talking. So much to say when there’s a lifetime of shared history, now so many age-related health conversations (sigh), grand-kiddos’ photos and hijinks over which to oogle and laugh and be horrified. (Kids today!)

That is after we first slog through lengthy opening conversations about how to use the houses’s unfamiliar wi-fi and remotes, which is its own ongoing revelation into the Aging Adventure. At least we cousins are doing it together. YAY COUSINS!

So, cousin called and asked. And I … sputtered. He and his wife are a couple weeks ahead of us with vaccines so they’ve already experienced some post-vaccine break-in time. First a meal at an outdoor patio. Then inside. Then a short trip to visit with other vaccinated relatives. You get the picture. Let’s call it Post Vaxx Reentry (PVR).

PVR requires a process. Increments. Ones that hopefully build toward a YES to travel. Choices that lead to a plethora of happy Yes Yes YES!

I hate these chicken-s^*# inner dialogue shenanigans I play with myself since COVID-19 struck. Well, I know several fully vaccinated people who have gone out to dinner and none of them are dead. Yet. Or sick. Yet. And they haven't totally proven the new strains are going to bypass the vaccines. Yet.

Even though I trust the science, in the beginning the science itself demonstrated a teensy yet prudent hesitancy to conclude what We Vaccinated could safely do. Although they’ve finally landed the verbal plane with “You can visit with other vaccinated people without masks,” there always seems to be a small caveat that appears in my brain in capital letters: UNLESS WE CHANGE OUR MINDS AS WE LEARN MORE.

Make no mistake: I love my cousins and am more than ready to swirl in the energy of their laughter, love and realness. And the food. OH THE FOOD! (Which involves eating out, which we haven’t done yet. Are we ready for that? Shut UP overactive brain!) I’m also desirous to visit friends in Illinois on our way from Minnesota to Indiana, where the reunion takes place. We always drive and always spend a couple/few nights in our old neighborhood in a series of whirlwind visiting/talking events with old-time friends we accrued over 47 years of marriage before we moved to MN. This past year several of them have experienced heart issues, cancer and other traumas. We want to see the bright light of their faces while we’re all still here on planet earth.

A barrage of “Are you fully vaccinated yet?” questions has begun. By reunion time (perhaps June) we shall all be, which is GRAND news! So … what’s the hesitancy to Just Say YES?

ME: Don’t carelessly erase the safety of an entire year of hiding out at home!

ME: SHUT UP OVERACTIVE BRAIN and just jump in! If things go haywire after reservations are made, we can always bow out and eat the money. After all, surely we’ve saved lots of money the last year with all those NO responses. Right?

Bwa-hahahahaha!

The packages are still arriving. Items received like dozens of masks (there's always one better than the one I just received), organic flour since my oven is now always on, more KitchenAid attachments, cute new shoes I have nowhere to wear...  My first ever Le Creuset pan is in transit, as is my purple hair dye. (Created for brown hair and mine is gray but it was a Deals and Steals on GMA [found poem] so what could possibly go wrong?!) I’m also shopping for my first ever good 8” chef’s knife. These purchases happen after you watch a year of cooking shows and have time and a cell phone on your hands—and have avoided the salons. (And apparently imagine you’re 22 and magically hip rather than 75 years old and bored, what with the purple.)

Here’s what I’m imaging at the moment: I’m going to say YES! YES, YES, YES to the reunion! And I’m going to cook something fabulous to take in my new pan after cutting the ingredients with my new chef’s knife. And I’m going to pack my QVC-ordered wig—just in case the purple hair experiment runs amok.

Yes, we’ll have so much to talk, talk, TALK about when we all get together! Won’t we?

Won’t we?

 

 

 

 

 

  

IMPORTANT CORRECTION

Isn't this the way of All Things Cosmic? Shortly after I posted "Family Planning (no, not that kind)" I heard from Lisa Tawn Bergren, one of the founders of FamilyTripster.com. Due to the infiltration of some bad guys, their forms for submissions are presently out of commission. However, the site is fully operating and she's standing by, eager to hear from you, so ... I'll let Lisa tell you how you can submit.

"We'd love to hear about your family's travels! To submit a report and encourage others to travel in a multi-generational sort of way, just send a Word document to Lisa@familytripster.com, along with a few pictures that document the trip (please note: our form to submit is currently disconnected, so please submit it this way). You might end up on our front page for March's update!"

--Lisa Tawn Bergren, FamilyTripster.com

Family Planning (no, not that kind)

Back when my youngest son was a toddler (he's now 38, so we're truly talking "back when"), our little family of four drove from Chicago to New Mexico to visit my parents and do a little skiing. Even after all these years, here's a few "highlights" I remember about that trip:

• Our diaper-wearing toddler experiencing "stomach distress" on the drive out there, back before the days of "family changing tables" in every public restroom. As I recall, he--all of us, including the car--needed a bath by the time it was over, not just a diaper and clothing change.
• How good it was to laugh and share with my folks; how glad they were to see us.
• The pristine beauty of the ski slopes.
• The hospital where they put the cast on my leg.
• Watching my husband pack the car--ski equipment, suitcases and our oldest son--for the drive home without me. There was no way I could endure the trip.
• Sitting in the bulkhead seat, battered leg extended in front of me, toddler trying to slide down my cast, PAIN, and the utter lack of help anyone (flight staff or seatmates) were willing to extend.

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FACTOID: a toddler and a straight, casted leg do not both handily (or unhandily) fit in the lavatories in airplanes. Unless you've experienced this contortion, you can only imagine .... But don't. It will give you a headache.
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My, how things have changed for family travelers. (Not including airline lavatories.) Sure, toddlers still get stomach distress in inconvenient places, and so do we. But these days, there are so many family-friendly resources--right down to those handy-dandy changing tables. Now, I marvel as I watch that same son disappear into the men's room with his daughter, who needs a diaper change, and think, HURRAY for PROGRESS! (Take that any way you like.)

If you travel with family (and even if you don't), check out this truly unique resource with an interesting concept: FamilyTripster.com. Not only do the seasoned traveler founders of the site (the Shonts and the Bergrens) offer superb and detailed first-person experience as it relates to their own family travels--complete with pictures, tips and a few warnings--but they also collect first-hand information from families who've ventured to all kinds of places (Petra, Nevis, Dracula's Castle to name a few), and from those who live in those places.

Opening words on their "About Us" page: "We’re the Bergrens and the Shonts's, friends who dared to venture to Italy together and returned home better friends than ever (a feat in itself!). Our trip in Fall 2005 from Rome to Venice was fabulous, and only whet our appetite to travel more—and show our kids what it means to be a global citizen."

WORTH A REWIND OF A REREAD: "...show our kids what it means to be a global citizen." Now that, dear reader, is a worthy goal in and of itself!

Examples of helpful family hints in the FamilyTripster.com travellogs [sic] section:

• the special young-family WARNINGS (i.e. "...'coupling' on the beach ... send a scout first...")
• tips and pertinent info that applies especially to those with children--and sometimes grandparents--in tow, like what simple household item you can travel with as an antidote to an encounter with a jellyfish.

HOW TO HELP GROW THE NEW SITE: The Trip Advice page accepts shorter input from readers such as, "Share Knowledge. Think: Recommendations ('Do this!') & Warnings ('Avoid this...') Post as many as you would like." There's even a place to tell out-of-town visitors what they might want to do when they visit your home turf. FamilyTripster.com invites you to send "postcards" from the best day of your trip and, like I said, to upload full-fledged family travellogs [sic]. Those posted are always well thought out and interesting (hint-hint); I haven't yawned once during a read. The folks running the site then vet and organize them.

Real people helping real people. Seems especially important when traveling with your family, and much more reliable than some of the come-hither information contained in glitzy brochures and souped-up travel sites that make everything appear so remarkable. Yes, I know, I KNOW that brochures and websites can also be highly spot-on and helpful, but when you're taking your munchkins along, you want to make sure.

So, you submit, the site organizes and grows, and we all read and benefit. You read before you travel, and maybe not only find a few out-of-the-way and uncommon gems, but you save yourself some headaches.

As they say, it's all good.