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?

 

 

 

 

 

  

Mississippi Love Affair #4: Levee Drive

 

Our condo is right behind Waterworks Park, upper left

Levee Drive. That’s what we call it. The one-way, less than 4ish block route ends only ½ block from our condo building and skirts Levee Park. Any time we’re on our way home and have a moment to divert a block off the main road home, our Subaru, as if possessing a will of its own, veers toward the river to slowly take the beauty in.  (Process of full disclosure: it often does the same thing for casinos, as did my last car. Well, back in the day when our automobiles actually left town.)

Even though we view the Mississippi River from our condo windows, it feels different when you’re right down next to the Ol’ Man. His shiny skin sparkles more in the ripples. His power reigns more palpable. A 19- year-old boy drowned right across the river from levee drive within the last couple months. Not the first or last time for dive teams in our area. Not all bodies are recovered within such a short amount of time, his quick enough to encounter fruitless CPR on the shore.

Respect the river. 

 Officially the levee drive is named East Front Street, which I only discovered during research to type this paragraph, this after driving it since the 90s. (Thanks, Google!) You enter East Front Street via Walnut Street (the Subaru veer) where you currently pass by the busy-bee construction site of Bay State Milling’s new expansion and storage facility, the old site of Godfather's Pizza.

Aside from her occasional rebellions, even though the river stays the same, there is always change around her.

When Godfather’s Pizza suddenly closed, most in town hoped a new restaurant would take over the space since it’s prized river view location came complete with an outdoor deck. Before we moved here from Illinois—back when we rented a hideaway place in Winona where we’d stay to visit our son and family and I’d come to write under book deadline--I spent many a leisurely lunch sitting on that deck, eating, lolling, visiting while discouraging scrounging birds and seagulls from heisting parts of my meal.  You know how it is around the water.

Memories gathered along the river, like the river itself, run deep. Fond crisp memories, as crisp as the edges of a good pizza dough.

I often parked my backside in that very Godfather’s pizzeria after the lunch pizza buffet shut down (1:30 I think it was) until shortly before they’d reload for the dinner buffet around 4ish. After pigging out on lunch, I wrote major portions of my Dearest Dorothy series for Penguin Books looking at the river. Unlimited self-serve drinks, those last couple pieces of dessert pizza I’d hoard before they’d remove the remnants, taking a bite between typing words while watching the river and towboats and   … What’s not to love about that kind of working environment?

Although I also owned a laptop, I never took it to Godfather’s. I mean … pizza grease. So I often wrote on an AlphaSmart, later moving to the Neo version of same. You can still find used ones on the Internet. They run hundreds of hours (like 600-700!) on I think it was 3 AA batteries. The best news: they do not (at least my versions) access the Internet. They were big in grammar schools and nearly indestructible. You can only see about a sentence at a time, so there’s no getting bogged down in editing. Nothing but you, a keyboard and words that seem to blaze forward. Many of my author friends loved them for the same reason: no distractions; you can edit later. Then when home, after a simple tethered connection, you push a button and it dumps those words into your computer. You actually watch them TYPE IN across your screen!

This YouTube video affirms my take and shares everything else I recall, right down to people passing by asking, “What in the world is that?” The only thing you don’t see in her short take is the words actually typing on your computer screen when you dump them in. They’re kind of fun to watch, akin to a player piano.

I always tried to ignore checking word count as I worked and was amazed how the input would type and type, going to a next page, and a next page … I’d do a word count after they uploaded and consider how much lack of interruptions for self editing can accomplish. Even while licking pizza grease off your fingers.

Pieces of my past. My imagination set free and recorded in Godfather’s restaurant at the head of  levee drive, the Mississippi as a backdrop. Such a peaceful and productive time.

Before Godfather’s moved in, I have a very brief but warm memory of drinking a cocktail at a higher end restaurant, Finn and Sawyer, at that location. We dined there with our son and his college roommate during one of our many visits to see him, waaaaay back (he’s going on 50 now!) when he attended Winona State University. I recall him pointing out the gorgeous stained glass mural map section of the Mississippi River they’d commissioned and had installed. The beauty remained in the building when Godfather’s took over. I learned when Bay State razed the building it was saved and reinstalled on the 2nd floor of the 201 Walnut building in Winona, picture courtesy of their landing page which also gives you a hint of the beautiful restorations going on around our fine town. Thank you Peter Shortridge for this info and your hand in preservation around Winona.

 All these ingrained memories, right where we turn the bend to enter levee drive. Memories that spark my enjoyment of the jaunt; it’s more than simply viewing the river. The ongoing igniting of great moments along that stretch cannot be underestimated. 

For instance last year, for our 50^th wedding anniversary, as part of our celebration we invited friends on a charter of the Winona TourBoat, which departs from levee drive. We told our guests we’d be serving Golden Mimosas and snacky treats. I remember walking up and down the tour boat aisles, champagne bottle in one hand, orange juice in another, filling and refilling during the 90-minute journey up river through Yeomans Lake, up past the Dam Saloon near the lock and dam, the cut into Pollywog past our friend’s cabin, downriver past the boat houses, continuing the loop past Bay State Milling right back to levee drive.

One guest asked, “What makes this a Gold Mimosa?” He looked perplexed at the typical mix.

“Fifty years. Golden Anniversary,” I said. “Golden Mimosa.” Bam! Shortly thereafter I knocked back yet another, "Hold the orange juice for me!"

Further back in time, our beloved dog Kornflake (RIP) and I would often sit by the river together for writing breaks. He also loved walking along the cement walkway watching the ol’ man roll by. His tail activated into hyper-drive when he’d take note of the car veering over to the levee road. He knew what was coming next.

 

If I had a tail, it would do the same.

 

 

A Love Affair with the Mississippi River: THE RIVER #2

Looking upriver from the walking path in front of our condo

Welcome to the 2nd installment of my series A Love Affair With the Mississippi River. Today I focus on the river itself. 

The Mississippi River. The Ol’ Man. The Big Muddy. The Big River. The Great River. The Mighty Mississippi. The Father of Waters. More regional and written nicknames than we can imagine. 

Friend. Peaceful. Steadfast. Soothing. Epic. Romantic. Steady. Alluring. Mesmerizing. Obliging. Transporting, in so many ways, from literal to the most fanciful. 

Powerful. 

Dangerous. Frantic. Fickle. Destructive. Hellish.  '

Untamable.  

 

Necessary. And to me personally, as described in a previous Traveling Laugh, a Necessary Goodness. I even purchased a silver ring inset with a small Mississippi River Pearl so I can stare at a token reminder of the beauty and majesty I leave behind when I'm away from a view of the river.

Although there are many massive rivers in the United States, I would venture to say throughout the history of literature none can boast more widely written and read tales than the Mississippi.  

Dear Samuel Langhorne Clemens, aka Mark Twain, I LOVE you for gifting me my first exposure to all that’s possible, magical and moving about the river. I also thumbs-up your fire and damnation essays in A PEN WARMED-UP IN HELL: MARK TWAIN IN PROTEST since the way politics and the pandemic are rolling, I’m scorchingly close to these smoking fingers flaming my keyboard. 

The Mississippi River, derived from the old Ojibwe word misi-ziibi meaning 'great river' (gichi-ziibi 'big river' at its headwaters), is the second-longest river in the United States; the longest is the Missouri River, which flows into the Mississippi. (quote from link)

The Ol’ Muddy is touted as the largest and most important river in North America, and one of the world’s major river systems in size. With astonishment we learn the entire Mississippi River originates as a small brook flowing out of Lake Itasca in Minnesota. (Reread that last statement. Reread it again. A small brook evolves into the Mighty Mississip’ which means perhaps my one letter to a senator can start a revolution! **blows on fingers**) After traveling somewhere around 2,340 miles (different mileage is reported in different places), the Ol’ Man empties his accumulative sustenance into the Gulf of Mexico.  

My grandgirlies love to spew known stats and retell their rock-hopping adventures of crossing the mouth of Her Majesty. (Note to readers: I often refer to God as female too.) Brian, their dad and our youngest, and his wife have taught them well. They’ve traveled to the headwaters several times, camped in the park. I discovered a live webcam. Have a look for yourself.

Mississippi Headwaters, Lake Itasca MN
photo link credit here

As odd as it seems, making the trip to Lake Itasca Park is a pleasure I have not yet experienced. At the tapping of every keystroke in that last sentence I asked myself Why?! I promise you that when this pandemic lightens enough for us to feel free to travel again, that adventure will take place. I shall submerge my toes into the river’s birthplace where he's only between 20 and 30 feet wide. I’ll stand and watch the waters swirling over my wiggling happy toes (surface water speed only 1.2 mph right there) and imagine those same waters traveling all those miles, picking up speed to a raging 3 mph [stat] in the Big Easy and into the gulf, an overall rolling-along journey that takes about three months. THREE MONTHS. 

On a personal note, and again a repeat of my first installment in this series, the reason we live in a condo rather than a house, which we’d been seeking for our move from IL to MN 4.1 years ago, is because we can view the river from the kitchen, living room, dining room (all open concept, how trendy) and the master bedroom. The stoic view-hogging condo building stands in the river city of Winona MN, dubbed by the staff at our energetic and creative visitors’ bureau The Miami of Minnesota. A future installment of this series will reveal more about Winona. 

Our condo building, walking path top atop rocks

We first officially "came to” the river in 1990 when Brian, our "baby", visited Winona State University as a possibility for his college education. Oh sure, throughout our pasts we’d seen the river. Side-eyed her here and there. But as we explored Winona to see what we could see as far as what Brian's entire experience might be, we SAW the river for the first time. She no doubt added allure to our son’s ultimate choice in university since he is a true outdoorsman. 

Among top facts about the river, in 2015 we read this. DUBUQUE, Iowa (AP) — A report released at a gathering of mayors in Dubuque finds that commerce along the Mississippi River generates more than $400 billion and supports 1.3 million jobs. You can read the economic history here. To say the Ol’ Man supports a lot of children is an understatement. Mother Hubbard’s got nothin’ on this dude. 

This past spring the river here in Winona--many places actually—was frozen late into the season, then so high for so long tow boats couldn’t make it under many of the bridges, including the one shot from so many of my condo deck photos. Other transport methods needed to be utilized as they could, all costing more than barge transfer. (Another edition of this series will feature the tow boat industry and the barges they move.) 

Imagine what portion of income and jobs were held at bay until Mother Nature decided to give the Ol’ Man a break. The marriage of Mother Nature and the Ol’ Man seems as volatile in temperament as my own marriage, especially the longer our pandemic lockdown continues. At least no swings other than verbal are thrown here in our condo though, so that’s awesome. 😊 But Mother Nature and the Ol' Man? Well they have historically had at it, no holds barred.

The report referred to earlier found that “the upper Mississippi River area, comprised of parts of Minnesota, Illinois, Iowa, Wisconsin and Missouri, generates $253 billion annually and supports 755,000 jobs. The total figure was devised by combining the upper river report with a report on the lower river released last year.” The lower Mississippi consists of Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, Mississippi, and Louisiana. In case you weren’t counting, the Mississippi runs through ten states. The top three industries along the entire Mississippi are manufacturing, tourism and agriculture. Apparently old retired folks living in condos is not considered industry, although we certainly contribute to the overall financial situation.

The levees and 29 lock and dam systems along the entire river are worth encyclopedia volumes each. Absolutely fascinating and amazing stuff, all designed to try to control the dynamic couple from swallowing us alive in their waters, which happened often before all of the engineering, planning and back breaking work—and occasionally still does in spite of humans’ best attempts. In order to not wax all stats-and-facty herewith, I’ll keep these notations brief and specific to where we live via a few links. 

Evening Levee Drive

-- Watch local filming of our Levee Road when the waters were up. This little strip of road right along the levee is very popular in Winona. One of the things I love about living in this city is how much the locals continue to daily appreciate the beauty and lure of the bluffs and river. One is hard pressed to find a slot in the day when there is not a car or two or more passing along the levee road, necks craining just to see the river up close, witness that beautiful shot under the bridge and check out the beach across the river. 

--Hop aboard our local tour boat that departs from levee road, let Captain Aaron take you for an educational ride. He is a great story teller with a wealth of information. You can even bring your own beverage of choice and/or buy some cookies and stuff aboard. 

--US Lock and Dam 5a, the closest to Winona. 

--Winona is at Mississippi River Pool 5a. Learn more about the location of river pools.