Continued from Spring Break - Part I ...
And Then The Paramedics Arrived
But only after the resort's security guard -- a guy who's mannerisms and deadpan delivery reminded me of David Puddy on Seinfeld -- planted himself in our room to witness the scene on behalf of the resort's legal department. Puddy was convinced I needed oxygen.
"Do you think she needs oxygen?" he asked my husband.
"No. I think she's breathing just fine," replied Chris.
This exchange occurred several times before the end of the night.
The paramedics determined I did not have appendicitis or a gall bladder thing and was likely experiencing severe food poisoning -- pain and non-stop, violent vomiting. They were cleared to treat me immediately in the room. I received fluids and two rounds of Please-Make-The-Throw-Up-Till-I-Pass-Out-Stop medication.
The paramedics and Puddy stayed with us a while, watched me wretch, writhe in pain, and examined all body fluids I produced. They complimented my accuracy and tidyness as I contorted and crawled from the bed to the floor to be sick. They also loved my purple sand pail and the Star Wars Legos on the nightstand that I never once disrupted during the ordeal.
And Then It Was A New Day
I was sick a couple more times that night but managed to rest a few hours before the boys woke up, oblivious to the visitors and drama while they slept. I spent the day propped up under an umbrella with sunglasses on, like the guy on Weekend at Bernie's, bucket nearby, trying to keep an eye on our kids, while Chris moved all of our stuff to a new room.
There was no funny smell, we had a beautiful view, and the purple bucket was retired as a sick receptacle and sand castle tool. The boys wouldn't touch it.
And Then We Got On A Boat
The next day began to feel a bit more like a real vacation. We took a snorkeling excursion around the island of Lanai. I wasn't able to snorkel because I was still recovering from food poisoning and had a touch of sea-sickness [I'm a fun date]. But the trip was worth seeing the whales, dolphins, octopus, lava tubes containing the remains of ancient Hawaiian royalty, the blowhole, and the memories Chris and the boys made while I stood by the boat captain battling nausea. Kind of like motion sickness in a car, if a person is queasy as a passenger they often feel better behind the wheel. I tried not to annoy Captain Chad, and the 20 other seated passengers.
I left my post as co-captain for a photo op in front of the blowhole. The five-year-old-boy remained in diva mode. No pictures.
And Then Middle Boy Got Sick
We think it was simply TOO MUCH that caused Middle Boy to vomit eight times that night. Too much sun, too much boat time, too much rich food, too much gosh-darn fun. He felt better the next day, had no fever and was ready to hit the beach.
And Then We Decided To Reclaim Our Vacation
We were all weak-kneed at the beginning of Day Five. We hadn't experienced the laid-back island vibe we were hungry for. Chris and I extended our trip a few days. Reset button? Hit.
And Then We Got Our Groove On
We swam, explored, picnicked with friends, ate, drank and enjoyed ourselves.
Unfortunately, almost every attempt at a family photo failed because of the youngest Ross boy's unwillingness to participate.
A few shots kind of turned out, but we'd been eating [and drinking] at Mama's Fish House and this Mama took her shirt off. I had a bathing suit on, but I looked conspicuously unclothed compared to the rest of the family. It's Chris' fault. I will have a friend photoshop my tank top ON my body before I share.
And Then It Was Time To Return To The Mainland
Our red-eye flight was scheduled to leave late Thursday, March 10th. We were tan, tired, ready to head home, but also excited to plan our return trip.
And Then The Tsunami Warnings Blared
Unbeknownst to us, the tragic earthquake in Japan had occurred. The airport was intense and our flight took off 20 minutes prior to the scheduled departure in an effort to clear the island of as many tourists as possible. We made it on to the plane. A paradigm shift of epic proportions consumed Chris and me as we reflected on our Griswold-like vacation bad luck. No. We were lucky beyond comprehension.
And Then Two Of Us Were Wet
The five-year-old-boy and I were seated together on the flight home. Without going into detail, we experienced a personal tsunami-like experience while he was sleeping wrapped around my body. Our misfortune resulted in his pants and shirt, as well as my pants and shirt, becoming WET.
I chose to muscle through the next few hours in wet clothes, but our youngest son took the brunt of the wave. A kind flight attendant begged a diaper from another passenger and gave us a clean blanket. While he slept, Chris and I were able to remove wet clothes from his lower body, replacing them with the diaper and an almost fashionable red sarong/kilt.
And Then Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig
Inspite of the rough spots on our trip, we had a wonderful time. The tragic situation in Japan, the fact that we serendipitously caught a flight hours before chaos hit the island, and the request from a dear friend who is battling recurrent ovarian cancer to "drink for two" [I can't hang, but don't tell her] have humbled this family beyond words.
Spring Break 2011 was memorable, and I wouldn't change that for the world.
Here's to you, Emmy Lou.