My Travel Curse

My Home Sweet Home

I am cursed when it comes to travel.  Here are the examples that make me believe this is so.

On a family vacation in Hawaii my kids were running and playing on the grass, like normal kids do.  One of them fell, like normal kids do.  I could tell by her cry that something was wrong.  I told myself to take a chill pill.  That night she didn’t sleep and the next morning she wouldn’t use her arm.  A trip to the ER in Hawaii followed where we were told that they were so busy that they would not be able to see her before our flight later that afternoon.  When we landed in San Diego we took her to the ER there where it was confirmed that she had broken her left arm.

The first time I ever left my kids to go anywhere far away I went to the Masters in Georgia with my dad.  When I left that morning my younger daughter (same one with the broken arm) cried and begged me not to go.  When my plane landed in Atlanta she was at the ER with a bad case of strep throat, unable to even keep down fluids.  I wanted to turn right around and come home.

Fast forward a couple of years.  Now we were in San Diego to fly to Boston.  Since we had a few hours I thought I would take the kids to the park to burn off some energy.  The same stunt woman daughter fell off the top of the play structure, breaking her elbow.  Another ER visit, missed flight, etc. followed by a two week vacation to a lake with a 5 year old wearing a cast.  What do you do with a 5 year old who can’t swim on a vacation where the main attraction is swimming?  Not super fun, for anyone.

On a flight to France I was seated next to a completely sick French woman who coughed and blew and snorted exactly 4.7 inches away from my head for the 11 hours that it took us to get to Paris.  Then we arrived in Montpellier and got into our rental car which was the size of, oh, a large recycling bin. We started driving through the streets that are one-and-a-half cars wide (for two-way traffic) and shaped like coiled up snakes.  It was very similar to being trapped on the Space Mountain ride at Disneyland indefinitely.  I couldn’t roll down the window fast enough, and my poor patient husband couldn’t pull over fast enough, and I puked on the window and into the crack that the window disappears into when you roll it down.  Not one of my best moments.  But after a shower, a thorough teeth cleaning and a nap I was back in the saddle.

We just returned from a trip to New Hampshire where we had a great time.  On my way to the airport two things happened.  First my house sitter called to say that the “big pipe” that fills the water tank, well, it was leaking.  Like, a lot.  Then my tire pressure light came on.  I had a giant screw in my tire.  Perfect!

And to top it all off, in July we had one of our absolute best family trips ever.  We did the High Sierra Camp loop at Yosemite National Park.  I am going to write more about it later.  Can you see where this is going?  Yes my friends, we stayed in the tent cabins where six people have now contracted hantavirus.  The incubation period is 1-6 weeks, and we have successfully completed 3 weeks of incubating without any symptoms.  I’m hoping for the best but given my track record…

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4 responses

  1. My aunt and uncle went on their first big vacation in like 20 years — to Europe — and had to come back early because my grandmother died. They waited another 15 years for a big trip — this time a cruise to China — and had to return early because my grandfather died. My aunt (the daughter of both of these people) would never go on another big trip again.

    You all take care. Jeez.

  2. I hesitate to click Like because this is not a happy story! Wow, I think staying at home-sweet-home may be in order for a while. 🙂 Hope you pass the next three weeks uneventfully! – Kaye

  3. Pingback: Yosemite High Sierra Camps: Day 1 « The Creston Nugget

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