So I almost didn't make it home from SLC Tuesday evening.
Almost.
While Clark was attending a super exciting class on oxygen therapy from noon to four I decided to blog about our happy reunion and go on an afternoon run because a.) I was in Utah and b.) I was not in hell on earth Arizona. (PS 70 degree weather is so much more enjoyable than 100 degree miserable face melting heat.) Within 10 minutes of my return to the bachelor pad Clark arrived home early- a joyous surprise! He asked if I wanted to accompany him to the hospital downtown since he had to drop off some evaluation forms. Of course I wanted to go--I wanted to spend every last breathing living minute with him. I stepped into the shower to get all nice and shiny and clean and I started to feel a bit woozy and nauseous. That happens to me sometimes after runs and usually subsides within minutes. No biggie, right?
WRONG.
As I continued to get ready my nausea got worse. And worse. And worse. But I wanted to go to the hospital with Clark and savor every moment with my husband so I swallowed the nausea, filled up my water bottle and got into the Lumina.
The drive from the bachelor pad to downtown is only 15 minutes. The ENTIRE drive I could not get comfortable. This bout of nausea could not be shaken. I tried to turn left in semi fetal position with no success. I tried to turn right with no success. I put my head between my knees and then rested my forehead on the dashboard. NO SUCCESS.
When we arrived at the hospital parking garage I told Clark I would wait for him in the car. He left me with the passenger window down (bless his little heart) and I quickly double bagged two grocery bags that were miraculously laying on the floor.
WABAM!
Up came 2 bowls of cereal, partially chewed grapes, every ounce of water I consumed that day and probably some of dinner from the night before. It was a hefty load. I really hope no one saw. I was in a state of post emesis euphoria immediatly following this episode. I felt like I could have done cartwheels and backward handsprings for hours. But instead I merely walked the bags to a nearby trash can and disposed of the undigested waste. Clark came strolling up just as I released the hefty load from my grasp and we quickly got into the Lumina and made our way back to the bachelor pad. The nausea had made yet another guest appearance.
Back at the house Clark pursuaded me to lay down and take a nap. He would wake me by 6:30 in order to get to the airport in time to catch my flight. Magically I was able to fall asleep for a good hour. By the time I woke up and got my belongings together I literally felt too ill to move. Standing brought on nausea. Hugging Clark brought on nausea. How sad, I couldn't even hug my husband to my full potential. Sitting down and not moving made the nausea a
little better but really I just felt like wretching my brains out. Clark and I discussed the situation and decided that if I really could not make it through checking in, getting through security, sitting and waiting to board the plane, and sitting through the flight, that I better call Southwest and reschedule my departing flight for the next day. Since I felt like I was dying I decided to do just that. I called Southwest and lone behold, it would cost me $100 to change my flight. So I told the kind agent on the other line thank you, but I will try to fly. Uuugggghhhhhhh. The point of no return. Too cheap to reschedule a flight= flying sick.
Clark gave me all sorts of pep talks on the way to the airport. Talks about how much better it would be for me to get well at home rather than on a twin size bed in a bachelor pad and to NOT drink tomato juice on the flight even though I love tomato juice and always get it on flights because it is free. At the terminal I mustered up the biggest hug "in my arsenal" as Clark always says. We said our good byes, xoxoxo, and I walked into the terminal to find the Southwest lines completely empty. That never happens. I walked right up to a kiosk and checked in within a minute. Still nauseous I made my way to security where there also was NO LINE. What the fudge, the SLC airport is
awesome on a weekday evening.
**Note to self: always, ALWAYS fly out of SLC during the week and at night**
Walking to the gate my nausea started to subside. Could it have been the super non-stressful check in? Quite possibly. Little by little I felt better and decided to get a Superfood Odwalla drink. Yes, I spent $4 on a drink. Ridiculous, but I needed nutrients and fluid. The color alone probably would have made me throw up but I pretended it was pink or orange rather than barf green and it went down smoothly.
On the flight I asked for ginger ale (I fought the urge to request tomato juice) to ease the random nausea attacks. I kept my focus on the drink napkin with the outline of the United States that illustrates all of the southwest airline hubs. I started planning our future Tour de America and that kept me preoccupied for a full hour. Ahhh, the power of the mind.
So I made it to PHX in one piece without throwing up or making a scene. I've never been sick on a day of travel. I've never had to travel sick. I've never had to call an airline to try to reschedule a flight and then say no thank you, I am too cheap to reschedule and I will suffer and fly in my miserable condition.
I never want to experience that again. Too close a call, I tells you.
Oh, and when I got home I was greeted by Gretchen who meowed like crazy and then threw up TWICE right by the front door. I'm pretty sure she did it for the attention though.
