The one where I'm mistaken for a fugitive on my birthday...

So, as many of you know, Saturday was my birthday. I'd flown out to California on Monday to return my grandbaby to his parents and visit their new home. The baby was a good traveler, he seemed to like riding on the airplanes and it was a good experience. We had a lot of fun in California. We visited fisherman's wharf in San Francisco, Old Sac Town in Sacramento, toured the base, saw the home they'll be moving into on December 27th (so much nicer than any base house my family lived in and definitely nicer than the apartments Mike & I started out in), ate good food, hung out and generally had a great time.

It was hard to leave. It was hard to say goodbye to my baby and her baby. Dylan has lived with us since he was born and it was like leaving two pieces of my soul out there. Mo and Boo. So I cried. But then I bucked up and Sean and I made our way through TSA and to our gate. Where we found out our flight would be delayed an hour because of a storm in Ontario (where the flight was coming from). Ugh. No one likes flight delays. I approached the desk to let them know that I had a connecting flight in Las Vegas and would be cutting it short on time. They assured me I'd make my connecting flight, but I might not get to board with my "A" pass, meaning that Sean and I might not get to sit next to each other. Fab.

Sean, not being the experienced world traveller that I am, was not happy. So we decided to tour the airport gift shops, where we bought trashy magazines and sour patch kids. These helped pass the time and take care of his crankies. Finally, we boarded our aircraft. They'd oversold the flight, so every seat was taken. Including the one next to me in our row. And, has everyone forgotten airplane etiquette? Is it not rude to promptly put both of your elbows on the armrests so you can text on your phone? Excuse me, sir, I might have wanted to use that armrest. You could have at least asked.

Also, there's turbulence. A lot of it. This doesn't bother Sean and I at all, but it does slow the plane somewhat. And then we land. And sit on the airplane, on the tarmac, because they haven't got a free gate for us. The time before my connecting flight leaves is ticking away. I'm beginning to get annoyed.

So what should have been a lovely hour and a half lay over in Vegas (plenty of time to have a drink and drop some money on the slots) has turned into a mad dash to our connecting flight ten gates away. We bob and weave through the crush of other travelers to arrive at our gate, sweaty and out of breath, only to find that they are delaying the flight for twenty minutes. So I get us a place and Sean runs to the sandwich shop (we haven't eaten in 8 hours and no, I don't count airline peanuts). He returns in the nick of time with two turkey sandwiches, a coke, and a look of sheer surprise. Turns out he didn't realize that two sandwiches and a coke could cost $24. Haha.

So we're lining up to board, while a harassed and frazzled looking airline worker is helping those in wheelchairs on board. I notice one little old lady sitting neglected (and surrounded by other travelers) in a wheelchair some distance from the desk. I asked her if she'd like me to wheel her closer so the attendant wouldn't forget her. At her nod, I did. Turns out, when the attendant checked her ticket, she was on the next flight. Oops.

We get on board, and once again the plane is full. The guy who sits next to me this time also commandeers my arm rest. WTF? And his bony elbow happens to be digging into my side for most of the ride. Not cool. But we get there. And Mike is waiting for us and he has roses.

He seems really alert and chipper so he gets to drive and after a brief stop for sodas, we're finally on our way home from St. Louis. We talk about the trip and Boo. But after an hour and a half, I can tell he's getting sleepy. So I suggest he pull over and I'll drive. So on the outskirts of Hannibal, Mo, he pulls into a closed gas station and we play Chinese fire drill.

Back in the car, I drive through Hannibal and I'm nearly to the turn off for the bridge to Illinois, when a cop in the oncoming lane flashes his lights at me. Huh? Then he pulls a u-turn and turns on his lights. So, slightly bewildered, I pull over. He comes to the car and I hand him my license and registration.

Cop: What are you doing in town tonight?

Me: Travelling home from St. Louis.

Cop: So you're just passing through? You didn't stop anywhere?

Me: Um, well, we stopped at a gas station to change drivers because he was sleepy.

Cop: Shining his light in and looking at Mike & Sean: Did you see anything at that gas station?

Me: No. They were closed.

He asks for Mike & Sean's IDs too. WTH? I can tell he's suspicious but can't figure out why.

Cop: Well, ma'am, you were speeding. You were doing 52 in a 35.

Me: Was I? I'm sorry. I should have been paying more attention. Shit. I haven't had a speeding ticket in 18 years!

Cop: Well, that's better than me. But the fact is you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. We got a call about a fight at the gas station you passed and everyone scattered when the police showed up. When I saw you speeding, I thought you might be one of the people fleeing the scene.

*Seriously? I have a suit jacket on. Do I look like the kind of person who flees the scene of a fight at a gas station?!*

He takes our IDs back to his car and I burst into tears. Mike and Sean kind of chuckle.

Me: Remember the birthday where we were driving home and the tire fell off the van?

Mike: Yeah, it hit a barn.

Sean: See? It's not the worst birthday ever!

Me: Not by a longshot. But I'm so tired and I just want to go home.

I mop up the tears and the cop comes back.

Cop: I'm so sorry about this. You were just speeding in the wrong place at the wrong time. You've got a great driving record, you've been very pleasant, and I noticed it was your birthday. I feel like a jerk giving you this ticket, but once I write it, it's set in stone. I'm really sorry.

Me: It's not your fault. But do you have to keep my driver's license? I'm going to Florida on Friday...

Cop: Oh, no, we don't do that in Missouri. Man, then I'd really feel bad, keeping your license when you were going on vacation.

And so he gave me my ticket and we drove off. $125 dollars poorer. And the end of my safe driver's discount. And as we drive off~

Mike: Just so you know, we do have a shotgun in the trunk.

Me: WTH??!! You mean I was riding dirty?

Mike: It's Porky's. We're going hunting in the morning and he forgot it. I stopped by and picked it up for him. It's not illegal to have an unloaded gun in the trunk.

Me: Oh. Well at least they didn't bring out the drug dogs.

Sean: That would have been funny as hell, sitting on the sidewalk while the drug dogs searched your car after the day we've had. At least you have a story to tell.

Me: Yeah. And you're welcome fugitives who really were fleeing the scene. F*ckers. They probably all got away while the cop was busy with me.

Sean: let's just pretend tomorrow is your birthday.

And so we did. I slept til 10 and then I talked to my Dad and to Molly. Then Sean and I watched four movies in a row. And a documentary on Doomsday Cults. And we ate take out. So it worked. We kind of figured out that I only have good birthdays every five years anyway. So I'm anticipating 45, that's when the next one is due.

Happy Travels, everyone. I'm off to Florida on Friday. Wonder what kind of trouble I'll get into along the way...

♥Spot

Sean and I come up with ways to make money...

Want to know something weird? Ha! I don't even know why I bothered to ask. If you came to my blog, you either love the weird or you didn't know any better. So here you go- my butt hurts. Not in a gross way (my gosh, the places that comment could go...). But no, I meant like the muscles in the fleshy part. And since the Dr. grounded me from all sorts of physical exercise it's obviously not from that. But that's what it feels like. That muscley ache you get when you worked out too hard just enough. The only explanation I can come up with is that I must have compensated for the crazy knee by walking funny. And all that hobbling around (and if you must know, I had to kneel to clean out the fridge) must have overtaxed said sore muscle. Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. The arthritis medicine she gave me is actually working quite well and the knee doesn't hurt much until evening. Then it aches, but not too badly. I haven't even needed the vicodin except the first night.

So on to the funny stuff...Sean and I were on our way to town the other day~

Me: (I'm driving, he's riding shotgun) You know what makes me happy?

Sean: Pistachios.

Me: Oh yeah they do! But that's not what I had in mind.

Sean: Fountain Cokes.

Me: Oh gosh yes! But again, not what I was going for.

Sean: A really good scary movie?

Me: Oh definitely. *silence* Sorry, I got distracted.

Sean: A new book, lazy Sundays, vodka?

Me: Wow. I'm really easy to please, aren't I?

Sean: Yes. And distract. But do go on...

Me: Anyway, I was going to say air conditioning.

Sean: that does make you happy.

Me: I know right?! I'm so cranky when I'm hot! Know what my car (yes, the one we're riding in) doesn't have?

Sean: Air conditioning.

Me: Bingo. Know why?

Sean: Because you trusted Dad & Porky to fix something.

Me: Well, to be fair, Porky does have a degree in fixing engines. But yes, that's why. But the reason I trusted them to fix it is because I don't have any extra money. If I had a lot of extra money, I would just take it to a different shop and pay them to fix it because then I'd be guaranteed it was fixed. Otherwise I could take it back and demand that they fix it and presto! It's fixed. So basically, the point of this conversation, in case I lost you with my logic, is money. And how we need more.

Sean: Oddly enough, I was following your train of thought. So do you have a plan to get this money?

Me: Um. No. But I'm working on it. I mean I'm doing the freelance gig, but I'm definitely not going to get rich anytime soon. And because I'm doing the freelancing, I have less time for the fiction, so publishing a bestseller, that will then be optioned for a blockbuster movie, is maybe going to take a while. I need some more immediate cash. I got this email from this guy about this new business venture and the initial investment is pretty low and you get it back relatively quickly.

Sean: Is it legal?

Me: Um. I'm not sure. It looks like a pyramid marketing scheme to me. But there was a video on the website about how it wasn't a pyramid marketing scheme.

Sean: Uh huh. Well that makes it legit. NOT! Do you really think they'd tell you it was an illegal pyramid marketing scheme?

Me: No?

Sean: Of course not genius.

Me: Well, I don't know. Lu watched it too and said she'd sign up. And then I only have to get two more people... and I had my cynical New York friend check it out.

Sean: Hold up! You seriously took Lu's opinion into consideration? Have you lost your mind? Lu! She thinks the world spins faster when the wind blows. Not a reliable source. What did your friend say?

Me: *sigh* that she thought it looked to good to be true. I already knew it did. But I was supposed to start making $4000 dollars a month the first month. That's a lot of money. You know what we could do with that kind of extra money?

Sean: get the air conditioning fixed?

Me: Buy a new car. And go on vacation. Like every month.

Sean: Hmm. That would hamper my job schedule. Wait. If you were making that much money would I still have to get a job?

Me: Of course you would, you slacker. Geez. You owe me money. But just until you were 18, then I'd sign you up to make thousands of dollars a month too.

Sean: I think this is a bad idea. How do you know they aren't the mob?

Me: Why would they be the mob??

Sean: Because the mob has their hands in everything. Maybe they are the mob and the money is from killing people.

Me: Um. Well. If I didn't know that's what it was from I don't think I can be held responsible. So it's okay.

Sean: Nah, I'm going to stick to my plan...

Me: What's your plan?

Sean: I'm going to take over Slovakia. Then I'll have my own country.

Me: Why Slovakia?

Sean: Because it's small and no one really knows much about it. Then if I need more room, I'll annex the Czeck Republic.

Me: Um. It takes money to run a country. Where are you going to get that from?

Sean: I'm building weapons factories. We're going to become the world's largest manufactures of weapons.

Me: Mmmm. I don't know about this plan...

Sean: Doesn't matter...you're part of the mob, I'm not letting you in my country.

Me: But can I buy weapons?

Sean: Of course, if you have the money.

To be continued...


Happy Lazy Sunday,
♥Spot

A trip to St. Louie....

So yesterday was the big day. Lu and I drove the two and a half hours to St. Louis for her appointment at Children's Hospital. We had to get up early and get ready and leave. Neither of us is good with early. Oh yeah, there was an emergency stop at Starbucks in our future. Because just in the half hour drive to the nearest town? I found myself creatively naming the other drivers and resisting the obscene urge to flip off absolutely everyone I happened to see. Convo~

Me: WTH?! Is today national drive-for-shit day and I missed the memo?

Lu: You didn't get that email?

Me: Damn spam filters! I miss all the good stuff.

But after fortifying myself with a Venti Caramel Frappachino, I was feeling a bit better. Oh, other people were still driving for shit, especially as we got into the city, but I was coping better. And then I was forced to whip out in front of a truck. Truly sorry, I hollered my apology~

Me: Sorry Mr. Truck Driver. It's national drive-for-shit day! Just doing my part!

I doubt he heard me. But thankfully he did not run us over.

We got to the hospital on time, found a spot in the parking garage and headed to the lab. We were done in minutes and Lu only squinched up her face a little bit when they took her blood. Then we proceeded to the ninth floor where her appointment was. Apparently every hospital pairs hematology with oncology. Because there was a waiting room full of kids waiting for chemo treatments. Yeah, I said kids.

We've gotten used to the waiting room at our cancer center, but it's very rare to see kids there. Sitting in a waiting room with children with cancer sucks the joy right out of your soul. As always, I look around feeling equal parts blessed (because my own children are cancer free) and guilty (because my own children are cancer free). And while Lu's disorder is serious enough, she's not dying. And she's not going through chemo. And she's getting to live her life, pretty much without restrictions. And it doesn't seem fair. And I know that life is rarely fair. But there just seems something cosmically wrong about small bald children in surgical masks stoically awaiting chemo. And while Lu sat with her nose stuck in her book (denial is that girl's best friend), I sat silently offering my many thanks to the powers that be that we are indeed fortunate and blessed in our daily life.

I know that one of the comments I received on my post about Lu's ITP said that they liked how I never seemed to ask "why us?". Well the credit for that has to go to Hubby. When we got CJ's autism diagnosis 17 years ago we were both still very young ourselves (22 & 20). And during one of my crying jags and our discussions I said exactly that. "Why US??! I did everything right for my pregnancy. I did everything I could to ensure a healthy baby! Why us?". My husband looked me right in the eye and said~

Husband: Baby, don't you think everyone who has something bad happen asks that same question? Do you think someone who's in an accident and is paralyzed looks up and says "well thanks God. I totally deserved that." Do you think parents of children who die think "you're right God. I needed to be taken down a peg or two." No, honey, they don't. It's not fair. Life isn't fair. But there's no use in asking "why?" because the only answer is "because". The question is "what are we going to do about it?". Because really that's all we can control.

That he had that attitude at 20 never ceases to amaze me. It was the last time I ever questioned why something happened. You get dealt your hand in life and the only thing you can control is how you play it.

As for Lu's appointment, they sure do things different in the world of pediatrics than they do in adult medicine. We had a female doctor come in, take the case history, and talk to us. She said they really don't treat kids unless their counts drop to 10,000. The hell? That seems scary to me. What if you need an emergency appendectomy? They won't even operate unless your count is 70,000. We discussed Lu's age at onset, the fact that she's moving in 6 months, and the fact that she is in those childbearing years. That Doctor left and brought in the head doctor (who I refer to now as Dr. McHottie. Because, well, wow.). He discussed some options and really made sure Lu understood the basics of her disease. The game plan? They are going to monitor her platelet counts for the next four months. If they stay above 100,000 and level off on their own it's okay to not treat. If they continue to drop or crash and get below 50,000 then we will look into a treatment called Rituxin. It would mean a weekly trip to St. Louis for a several hour infusion for four weeks. After that, she may be susceptible to colds and viruses for another 9 months, but then? Immune system back to normal, possibly cured for life!! Very few side effects. Me? I was like why can't we just do that, if it might cure it? Apparently the drug is not FDA approved for the treatment of ITP even though it's also used for that purpose. So most insurances don't cover it and it's very very expensive. Apparently, they don't understand that I will do whatever it takes (sell a kidney, sleep with a millionaire, humiliate myself in public, anything) to get her a cure. But for now, we wait.

So three hours later, we left the hospital. And then we hit the Galleria Mall. Three stories of shopping bliss, because why waste a trip to St. Louis? And the best part? She didn't even make me go into Aeropostle or Hollister. We did hit some awesome stores though. Victoria's Secret, Hot Topic and a funky little boutique called Francesca's. She also took me into Heritage 1981/Forever 21. Because somehow she ended up with a gift card to there. And this was the conversation:

Lu: C'mon let's go into Heritage 1981 and you can look at all the clothes you wish I'd wear.

Me: Huh?

Lu: You'll see. *she pulled me in and we started perusing the racks. finally she found me again* Did you find anything I might wear?

Me: No. But I found loads of stuff I'd wear if I was thinner. Look at these combat boots and this awesome skirt!!

Lu: Did you pull that out of your closet circa 1986?

Me: Yeah. I used my "hot tub time machine" to go back and get it.

She did end up with a dress, a shirt, a jacket and we both got necklaces. I only hope she has the guts to wear the dress because she looked amazing. =]

Have a wild & wonderful weekend,
♥Spot