TheBanyanTree: Just Not Fun Enoigh

[Linda DeMerle]

It has been brought to my attention that I am just not fun enough. In trying to determine how this came to be, I reviewed. 

Change of vacation plan to go to the seashore. Check.
Six weeks of renovations. Check.
Two weeks of purging and decorating to unearth three sleeping spaces. Check.
New bathroom. Check.
New towels in bathroom. Check, check.
Include a last minute rush to the store for a bottle of wine because I was texted to have wine ready, they were on their way. CHECK.

Our guests were Marilyn, my mother’s first cousin and, basically, 2nd sister. Marilyn’s folks had moved to Norfolk when our uncle was stationed there, after WWII.  Marilyn is the absolute sweetest, most kind person I have ever known, which is saying something when I remember my sainted mother-in-law.  Ferrying Marilyn to our humble home all the way from Norfolk were her daughter, Helen and Helen’s husband, Greg. We went down to Norfolk last fall and had one of our best vacations, ever, laughing so hard that we were exhausted.

Whilst waiting for our guests to completer their 11-hour trek, we kept on with a few projects, although our rythymn had been broken up over the weekend with Kevin not feeling well and my usual hinderances, so, our guests arrived to a few stacks of books and empty boxes next to the fireplace, but, what can you do. Two ailing people can only work so fast.

After what seemed to be a few minutes, Kevin needed to lie down.  Concerned, I followed him, to find him in agonizing pain and not arguing with me when I suggested we call the doctor, followed by immediately getting off of the bed when the doctor sent us to the emergency room under suspicion of appendicitis. Leaving our guests to their own devices, I sped us to the ER while Kevin suffered and objected to my speed until the moment we arrived at the hospital, where he exited the vehicle to remove and stow antennas.

This deserves many spaces for dramatic pause. 

It should be noted that during this act of duty, the agonizing pain disappeared, never, so far, to return. This did not, of course keep us from inhabiting a room at the emergency center for 5 hours with all of the activities it suggests.

Diagnosis: kidney stone. Kevin was sent home, un-incised, with his suspected troublesome appendix in place.

We awoke in the morning to much joy at our great luck and lots of laughter. After giving Marilyn some time to rest, we drive up to the Tipperary Hill section of the city for supper at an Irish pub, followed by tracking down our grandmother’s old house, as well as Marilyn’s childhood home. After some sightseeing, we came home and I don’t remember what happened after that. By this time, I was beginning to suffer the effects of hanging around the emergency room for several hours with a neurological condition which despises surprises, change and unpreparedness. 

Enter sleepless nights, vicodine and the start of becoming Just Not Fun Enough, at least, by our standards, this may have already been determined by some others when we left for the emergency room, but I can’t comprehend that, so I won’t try. Besides, it’s only speculation.

To be continued after tea...