We Were Going to Kentucky

Two weekends ago I took a trip with Brian and the kids to visit his grandparents in Kentucky. It didn't occur to me that our route would take us within a few miles of Lisa's place until I started seeing signs for Nashville. Doh! Not that we could have done anything about it, because by the time we got out of Atlanta traffic it was late, late, late. I'm sure we would have been welcome even at 1:00 a.m. - right Lisa?

The reason that Brian wanted to drive up, in addition to simply visiting, was to give his grandma a talking to. She was not happy about the fact that she had to be placed in an assisted living sort of place until she could heal up from a series of falls that were caused, in whole or in part, by vertigo. So instead of busting her butt to get well and go home she started refusing to even get out of bed for physical therapy. I imagine that, like our grandma Agnes, she was upset over the loss of independence and she just started giving up.

Note: This post is super long; click the "more..." link below if you want to read the rest of it.

I think our being there and her having to listen to Brian and his sister nagging her (and his sister being downright mean) motivated her to do better. While we were visiting she went from a passive futility to flipping Brian off, calling him a smart ass and claiming it was just fine to curse as long as you didn't use the Lord's name in vain. It was very sweet to see Brian's grandfather interact with her. After 60+ years of marriage he still calls her "baby." Of course, he also flirts with the pretty young nurses, but that's another story.

On our way out of Atlanta we stopped at Ruby Tuesday for dinner (yes, the one Amanda works at, but she was back at the house with our pack of dogs). Between the traffic and a couple of other things I've since forgotten, we were running pretty late given the six hour drive ahead of us. Just as we finally got back on the road I realized I hadn't taken the antibiotic I'd been prescribed for a sinus infection. You're supposed to take them with food or they'll upset your stomach, so we pulled over almost as soon as we headed out again so that I could get the pill out of my bag in the trunk and take it. Big mistake.

A few miles up I-75 I started feeling sick. Really, really, nauseatingly sick. I figured I'd tough it out and hope it would pass, because it had already taken us so long to get underway. But within a few minutes I realized we were going to have to stop or I was going to toss my cookies all over the car. I thought I could at least make it to the next exit but within just a couple of minutes I knew that wasn't going to be possible. Brian pulled over and right there next to I-75 I left my own special memorial to Ruby Tuesday. He rubbed my back as I puked my guts out in the grass on the shoulder of the highway, while the kids sat in the car silently. I think they were traumatized.

The moral of that story is that antibiotics and Pinot Noir - even one glass - don't mix. I didn't think about that fact because the doctor had given me samples, which didn't have all those silly warning labels about things that we all think we already know. I did know not to drink wine while I was on them...I just forgot about it until about five or ten minutes after I swallowed the pill. Ugh.

On Sunday morning when we got up and got ready to head back to Atlanta, we discovered Brian's grandfather had lost control of his left arm - symptomatic of a stroke, with which he was familiar since he'd already had a few. This seemed mild in comparison to the others, from what I understand. He was upset, no doubt worrying about how he was going to get his goats fed and take care of everything else around his farm. Brian's dad, who is on oxygen, was visibly stressed with his mom being in assisted living and his nearly 90-year-old dad apparently having had another stroke. He has been regularly driving down from Michigan to stay at the farm for various stretches of time. Given his lung problems he often doesn't even have the energy of his dad, but he does what he can. But he got his dad to the ER that morning.

We went to visit B's grandma again, then went over to the ER to see his grandpa before heading back toward Atlanta. By the time we got there Grandpa was in good spirits and telling all the young ladies how pretty they were. He's in a facility similar to the one B's grandma is in, doing rehab and doing pretty well. It's kind of a blessing that, if he had to have a stroke at all, everyone was there. Had that not been the case he no doubt would have gone out and tried to feed his goats and do all his chores, and there would be a high probability he'd have injured himself given the loss of control over half his body. Plus, now neither he nor B's grandma has to be home alone fending for themselves while the other is in the hospital.