Comments on: DAY 16: It Wouldn’t Be Vacation Without a Trip to the E.R.!

By: Sarah Bates

Sarah Bates — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 22:05:04 +0000

No matter how well you plan there is always the unexpected. One month after we adopted a year-old dog we went on a long-planned road trip. At 3 a.m. the morning of our departure for Lake Tahoe, the dog began to shake her head and paw at her ears. Then, when we took her out to do her “business” before getting in the car, we noticed suspicious “sesame seeds” in the deposit she left on the ground. From that we knew she had worms, but the ears were a mystery. Since she seemed to be in good spirits, undaunted we drove six hours to our destination and immediately took the dog into a vet. Turns out her ears were infected and our suspicions about the worms were confirmed. The kind and concerned vet kept our dog half a day, wormed her, cleaned her ears and we continued our vacation of two weeks with a bag full of daily meds to continue treatment. We go back to Lake Tahoe every year and although our dog is healthy and well-cared for now, we keep that vet’s business card, just in case.

By: maggy simony

maggy simony — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 10:02:03 +0000

I have always said (or thought at least!) that you two and your family are like the pioneers who settled the West — that’s why I am so taken with your unique lifestyle and adventures in Writers Weekly. You are all such survivors–working, working, in face of nature, illness, whatever! But please–you both take too many chances with your medical emergencies, push the envelope. There’s nothing cowardly about stopping at the hospital emergency room.

But here’s a clue to better service. Instead of starting off that day you stopped, you’d be better to stay parked at the RV place, call 911, and let am ambulance take Richard there. Ambulance ALWAYS trumps walk-ins.

maggy

P.S. Now me, if I lived back then when they were giving out land in the mid West, the gold rush, etc. — I would just have stayed on the East Coast — you-all would have gotten in your covered wagon and headed West, having babies along the way.

By: Hal Z. Bennett

Hal Z. Bennett — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 21:05:03 +0000

Ah, “Poor Richard’s Almanac” brings back memories. Five years ago, while teaching a writing workshop near Cuba, New Mexico, I came down with a rash. One of the workshop participants happened to be a nurse, who quickly diagnosed “shingles.” Ouch! I rushed off to the closest clinic–just outside the Indian reservation about 35 miles away. After a six hour wait, witnessing dozens of dramas in the waiting room, I was finally admitted, given a couple shots of this or that and sent on my way with a little bottle of pills called “hydocodon” (codeine), same thing I’d gotten for a root canal a few years before.

Other than the long wait, the medical staff was great. However, I now faced having to run a workshop with 27 participants for the next five days. While the pain wasn’t horrible, the drugs I was taking caused my attention to drift and I found myself drifting off into stream of consciousness instead of sticking to my usual workshop agenda. I warned my students what was happening and told them that if I drifted too off the subject they had my permission to interrupt and tell me to get back into the real world. To make matters worse, I had the impression that I was competing in a slow-talkers contest. Amazingly, in five days, I had only two or three “reminders” from my students to get back on track. A few who’d attended my previous workshops said it was the best workshop I ever taught. I hope this wasn’t the case since it might mean that my “best” depends on drugs–or maybe pain? As flattering as it might have been to hear that, I suspect that my “brilliance” that week was more the result of my students’ smoking too much jimson weed than anything to do with my perceived genius. It gives a whole new meaning to sick and dopey.

While this isn’t quite as bad as Richard and you spending vacation time in ER, your story was a reminder of what a drag it is to be sick when you’re away from home, no matter what the circumstances. My sympathies to both of you.

Here’s to better vacations…