Back from a trip

There's one rule I follow in blogging is that I never divulge a trip I'm planning, and I never divulge that I'm on a trip. I only report a trips after the fact.

I just got back from accompanying a friend to have surgery from a specialist out of state. I spent four full days--and two partial days going and coming--in beautiful Bangor, Maine; where the temperature and wind were inhu-Maine. There was a fifty degree difference between St. Louis and Bangor, a forty-miles per hour wind difference. Last but not least, there was two feet of snow on the ground, and another inch or two fell the day before spring. The wind-chill was sadistic.

I also defeated The Blob bare-handed, but that's a different story.

On arrival, we rushed out to get the rental car crying out for mercy against the wind and hoping we could find it and scrape the ice off before our faces froze solid. However, we weren't there sight-seeing anyway. The important thing was my friend's surgery, aiding her in recovery, and helping her get back once she was physically convalescing. Also driving. She was from Atlanta and had never seen snow and ice like that. (I hadn't seen it for decades, but I came of age before global warming so I knew how to drive in snow.)  Afterward, of course, she couldn't drive. I also got her prescriptions. We had separate rooms. I slept in her room in the adjacent bed the night after the operation.

She did excellently, after initial nausea that wouldn't quit. For a while I wondered if I would need to take her to an ER. I actually did look up hospitals. The doctor called in a prescription. I picked it up backed off and let her self-reliance do its thing. I only checked on her twice that night. By next morning, Saturday, she had completely turned around, no more suffering on her face and she had her appetite back, at least partly.

The medical staff was wonderful; the doctor and nurse called and followed her condition, the nurse even visited. I would praise the practice more by name, but that would involve disclosing my friend's condition. I'll put it like this: the operation should give her 70-80 percent of her life back.

By Saturday, she was well enough to want to go out and look at the snow. The temperature was up to a balmy 35 degrees and the wind was calm. However, the next day, the arctic chill and the gales were back. We left that day. I did okay physically, but by that time I was exhausted mentally. I didn't sleep well. I think my room was haunted: I heard breathing from the bed next to mine. The unfamiliar food, crashing of my routine, and the fact that I ran out of medication on the yesterday left me frazzled.

I got back somewhat drowsy and windburned to face an angry cat.

Five days? You better have been harvesting catnip, fella.