There is no hiding the exhaustion and toll that this journey has had on me. The dark circles under my eyes and makeup that runs from tears leave the proof. After landing in California late in the night on New Years Day I was overcome by pain. My body barely hanging on. The flights and travel left me limping and holding my breath for a chance to rest. I crumpled into the hotel bed in tears.
Grateful to have arrived. “Hello, California!” I said as the wheels touch down.
Getting settled
We make our way through the throngs of people in the airports. Anxious to avoid them all as Omicron has made the travel experience frightening for all of us. Despite my triple vaxxed status, I am worried that I will catch Covid at the worst possible time. So it’s the N95 mask on the planes and being mindful of social distancing and hand washing. It’s all I can do other than hope.
The man I love has joined me on this journey. He is truly wonderful and I couldn’t do this with him. It takes a special person to stand by someone when their body fails them. He holds me up when I literally cannot stand. Dale is certainly one of the good ones.
Into the fray
We gather the car rental as we opted to drive ourselves was the safety was to avoid close contact with as many people as possible. With our bags and some of our sanity in tow, we made our way to the Residence Inn in LA.
Driving the freeway in the dark after 16 hours on planes was an achievement that should at the very least earn a participation ribbon. We find our way through the maze of concrete, noise, and the assuring canopy of palm trees. We find our room and dissolve into the bed.
Waking in pain
My body punished me for my travel. I struggle to walk the few feet across the room to the washroom. Limping from the shooting nerve pain in my legs and ankle. My back injury reminds me that it dislikes airplanes and soft beds. I tremble as I wait for meds to take effect. Realizing that there may be help nearby I slip on my bathing suit and venture down to the pool.
More Covid Tests
Once in California, I needed to again ensure a negative covid test before my surgery. So it was off to some shady testing site with dubious business practices.
Due to the limited access to Rapid Antigen tests everywhere, there are few places you can get the required tests. Forced to pay whatever the private company demands. In this case, I pre-booked a rapid test for $100USD and after being tested was told the price “changed” to $150. With nothing to do but feel taken advantage of I pay and pray for another negative test result.
Negative again – such a relief.
The stress starts to show as the tears flow without warning.
Anxious
The palpable weight of fear and anxiety creeps in. First as I panic in a grocery store parking lot. Struggling to move out of the car and overwhelmed by even the slightest task. Dale holds my hand and puts on my “playlist” of calming music. I steady my breath and release some tears to bring the pot of anxiety below the simmer point again.
We gather the essentials we will need to take care of ourselves in the post-op phase. A little fruit, some protein shakes, electrolytes and some healthy food to make dinners while I am recovering.
Concrete Jungle
Unable to be calm once again back at the hotel I cry endlessly. Resolved that my body is so tense that this is the release of months of fighting the province and constant stress and worry.
I cannot breathe, I hurt everywhere, I need to see the ocean.
Breathe
It’s the night before I meet my surgeon in person. Feeling crushed by the concrete jungle of Los Angeles, and overwhelmed by the journey to this point.
I beg him to drive me to the beach so I can see the horizon. Calm my nerves. Breathe for a moment. The walk from the car to the shore is slow and agony. Holding his arm I press on through the sand. It feels like an impossible task. Finally to the firm pack sand of the outgoing tide. I can manage on my own for a moment or two.
We catch the sunset purely by accident.
That’s the man that loves me in the distance.
Always beside me, loving me, supportive.
I am grateful.
Dry my Tears
The next stop is meeting Doctor Schwartz in person for my pre-op appointment. After a broken sleep, I rise to update you all and try to muscle down 4 litres of water in a rehydration effort. I am taking the day gently to not set off the tears again. Soon I’ll gather myself up, pack up my hospital bag, and get ready to bravely face the surgery I so desperately need.
I check my email one last time… still no word from the Health Minister or Manitoba Health. I fain surprised and chug another gulp of my water.
Off to see the Doctor.
One Response
Hi Emma, I am so grateful you take the time to update us on your journey through this awful time in your life. I am praying that nothing comes between you and this surgery, that all will go well, and your trip home is a joyous one. Happy New Year to you, your wonderful partner, your family, and all those special people that are helping you through this. hugs