I picked Jason up from the Miami airport this morning after his 4-day trip to Martinique. After a stressful scramble of getting the right documents for Jason to get the approval to fly down there, we sent him off in pursuit of a boat last Friday, February 25th. Jason and our Broker, Terry, met up at the airport during their overnight layover in Pointe-a-Pitre before making the final island hop Saturday morning into Martinique. After arriving at the condo rental, Jason was able to see that the marina where the boat we have a deposit on (currently named “Bel-Air”) is a short five-minute walk away. The marina is HUGE, and after two separate attempts of finding the boat on Saturday, Terry and Jason came up empty-handed. But then on Sunday, they had some success! Jason sent me a quick video of him walking right by it. Jason said the owner was super kind and let them walk on the boat even though they weren’t scheduled to see the boat until Monday at the time of the survey and haul out. When Monday came around, Jason was prepared for a very long, exhausting day with the survey. The survey included a complete inspection of the boat, the boat’s systems, climbing the mast, checking the engines, lines, standing rigging, etc. After the inspection at the marina, the captain/owner of the boat, the surveyor (Jacques), the selling broker (Luc), Terry, and Jason took the boat out on the water for a short sea trial to inspect the catamaran under sail. Then the boat was hauled out and everything under the waterline was also inspected.
There’s a multitude of points to check, monitor, and discuss, and I’m so grateful Jason is there to ask all the questions and see the boat in action. I can feel his excitement through his texts and video messages. He is in his element and literally living his dream. I hated that I wasn't there with him to see the boat and get an in-person view of it, but the decision for me to stay behind with the boys and pets made the most sense. So, the boys and I held down the fort here at the KOA in Moore Haven where the weather continues to be lovely, and we pass the time with bikes, walks, movies, and video games. Cord declared Jason's side of the bed his own while Jason was away. With Cord snuggled into our bed, Barrett didn't have to share the fold out couch, so he was also loving Cord's new bedtime routine.
Jacques will provide us with a detailed final report within the next few days, and once we have reviewed it, Jason and I need to make the decision of going forward with the purchase or not. Kind of a big deal and my mind is racing with the logistics of buying a foreign boat, getting us (and all our stuff) to the boat, and dealing with the RV and car we’re going to be leaving behind. Amid all of the excitement that this boat brings us, I just can't get on board with it. Every little step, though not easy, is starting to fall into place on our way to being live-aboard sailboat owners, but my heart and soul is aching to be home.
As we waited for updates to come from Jason about his trip and the boat, I was also checking my phone every other minute for updates on my mom. Back in September, shortly after our family started this RV adventure across the U.S., my mom was rushed to the E.R. and subsequently ambulanced to another hospital that diagnosed her with kidney failure. (See my earlier Blog 10: Let's Be Real...) Since the diagnosis in September, Mom continues to fight against her own body as it tries to shut down on her. By mid-November, Mom was going for five-hour dialysis treatments three times per week. Then, just after Christmas, Mom fell and broke her arm. By January, she had lost 40lbs and counting. End of January, Mom had terrible pain coursing down the backs of her legs causing walking, sleeping, and sitting all uncomfortably miserable – a side effect of losing too much potassium through dialysis.
One of my older sisters, Kristi, helped to alleviate the pain by getting her a better chair, clothes, and blankets for more comfort. Then on February 23rd, Kristi calls and asks if I’m planning on coming home soon. Since Jason and I had been talking about slowly making our way back to Oregon once he got back from Martinique, I figured Kristi was trying to figure out when I’d be back so she could plan her daughter’s 15th birthday party. I wish it would have been so trivial. I told Kristi we were headed back and would probably be home in two more months or so. She went on to say that Mom wasn’t doing well. She’s been falling down a lot. For no reason, her legs just give out on her and she finds herself on their hard floors. I get off the phone with Kristi telling her we’ll be home sooner rather than later, but we need to drive because we have our dog, Sage, and she can’t fly, nor is she in good enough health to be boarded her in Florida. Then I call my Mom, and bless that woman and her lack of concern for her own health. Mom casually tells me that she went to the Urgent Care Clinic for her falling, they couldn’t figure out what it is because her bloodwork looked good, and now she’s home and resting. She continues with saying she hasn’t fallen for a couple days and she has zero pain in her legs so she thinks she’s on the mend. Oh, and she’s now using a full-on walker because she feels too weak to walk on her own. Oh yeah, and also, the dialysis team has been asking her for weeks now if she’s ready to start the process for a kidney transplant. FOR WEEKS THEY HAVE BEEN ASKING?!? Last I heard, the doctors didn’t think she needed to take that drastic step, and dialysis was best for her for the time being. For the half hour I talked with my mom, I felt like she wasn’t completely tracking with what I was asking about. She responded with answers that had no correlation to my questions, or when I could tell she needed to go, she continued to carry on and tell me a story she had just told me five minutes before. I chalked it up to her hearing issue – an ongoing joke in our family. Then I get a text from Kristi the next day asking for my blood type.
Mom needs a transplant, and now. Also, Mom fell again. This time, she fell so hard that she missed her dialysis and would need to make it up the next day (Saturday). Kristi calls again Saturday afternoon. I hesitate to answer – I know it’s not a social call, and I’m scared of what she has to say. But not knowing feels way worse than knowing, so I answer. Mom was at dialysis, but the doctor told my dad that once dialysis was over, Dad needed to immediately take Mom to the E.R. The doctor feared Mom has had a stroke – it would explain the falling and the confusion/memory loss Mom was dealing with. Once at the E.R., Mom becomes uncharacteristically irate. Mad at the world, Kristi said. Mom swears she’s already taken a test, but she hasn’t, and she shakes with rage when she is corrected. Mix her anger with her confusion, and she doesn’t sound like my mom at all. After all the testing and scanning at the E.R., again the staff doesn’t know anything. No stroke. No issues they could find that explains Mom’s symptoms, so they release her. After a long, sleepless night at home with Dad, I check in to see how they’re doing on Sunday afternoon. Dad’s response guts me.
My dad is the strongest, most stubborn, anti-emotional man I’ve ever met. Except when it comes to my mom. It’s clear he’s struggling to help his wife and it’s breaking him to be so helpless. I feel the same way, I suppose. Grasping for a way to fix her, asking every question I can think of, offering up ideas that might help, but ultimately, I’m helpless. And thousands of miles away so I can’t even see her. I don’t understand anything anymore. How can no one pinpoint the culprit behind my mom’s mind and body turning against her so rapidly? Why is she released from a doctor’s care when she clearly needs to be monitored? Why my mom? Why our family? Nothing is real anymore. Each time I talk with my family, there’s another setback, and I can’t understand it. My heart is saturated, and I cannot absorb any more pain.
Yesterday morning, I checked in with Dad - hoping by some miracle that Mom slept-off all the worrisome symptoms and was feeling better. But Dad said Mom still isn't sleeping, still confused and weak. He had talked to Mom's doctor, and the doctor said he wanted her to still go to her dialysis appointment that afternoon, then she was to go straight to the E.R. in Richland, WA (about 45 minutes away). Kristi drives Mom and Dad to the hospital - 90 minutes later, they're leaving. Mom's doctor wasn't there and the staff was completely unaware of Mom coming, so no reason for her to be there. It's all maddening nonsense, and I find myself clenching my phone, waiting for the next update to come through. Still no answers for Mom.
Jason was down in Martinique while all the updates on my mom’s health came in. As I shared my fears and worries, Jason agreed that we needed to head home as soon as he was back in Florida. He even checked to see if he could fly in earlier to get us on the road sooner, but there wasn’t anything available. Now that he’s back and our intentions are clear, we’re hitting the road tomorrow. Our trip home will no longer be a sightseeing saunter towards Oregon, seeing family along the way, but a full-fledged hustle back.
Just like when I fell and scraped my knee when I was five, I am running down the road screaming out for my mom. I know my presence can’t fix anything for her, or my dad. I have no knowledge of kidney failure, dialysis disequilibrium syndrome, confusion, memory loss, or atrophied muscles, but I can’t think of anywhere else I need to be more than back home with my mom.
So, here’s to another step towards boat ownership, to a safe trip back to Oregon, and to getting some much needed answers to prayers.
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