No, it Wasn’t the Most Unseemly Reason Imaginable. But Still.
We’ve all heard horror stories from Emergency Room nurses and doctors about folks showing up with poor dead gerbils in places they never agreed to go, or bottles suctioned into orifices they have no business exploring. One assumes these aren’t just urban legends, but are in fact the world’s most awkward reasons to show up at a hospital.
I’ve contented myself with the rationalization that my purpose in going—or Joe dragging me there, as I made lame excuses why I should instead do it tomorrow or never—was just normal everyday mortifying, and not the “I killed a hamster” kind of embarrassing. In short, I had geysers erupting multiple times a day from a place that should be max producing a tootsie roll or two.
So. Incredibly. Awkward.
I picked up giardia (a wholly unpleasant experience) many years ago while volunteering in New Orleans after Katrina, and this was very much the same; I believed I had again acquired a nasty bug from that “Chitty Sitcheashun” I told you about at our second Maine campground.
Needless to say, I convinced myself it would go away on its own, but it proved more invincible than my 58-year-old immune system. Weeks later I was forced to admit I might have a problem (kinda like AA but for poopers), and sought help from the professionals.
I was given two antibiotics, one for giardia and one for c-diff, and they made me sick to my stomach . . . but I gamely forced them down multiple times per day, while the geyser continued uninterrupted. That all you got? Pffft…bring it, lady.
It’s one thing ‘fessing up to the pros about why you’re visiting the hospital, but quite another to know they’re gonna need a sample: that’s just something no one in their right mind is eager to do.
The second ER—which happened to be in Cincinnati—was so much nicer and more professional than the first in rural New York. I offered a sample immediately (because yeah, there were urges), and then profusely apologized to the nurse who had to come along behind me and gather the evidence. I had a sneaking suspicion she was seeking revenge when she jabbed a needle in my arm and squirted blood all over me instead of into the tube where it was probably supposed to go. Well played, nurse, well played.
I was tested for both giardia and c-diff, and treated again for giardia as it was the more likely culprit. Except both tests came out negative, so now what’s a girl to do? I’ve been downing probiotics and yogurt and eating healthier for weeks and I still, well, haven’t returned to my normal self. Any ideas? Let me know…kindly, please. No need to add insult to bowel injury.
The bottom (ew) line? Being sick on the road isn’t as much fun as you might think it would be.
On to Brighter Topics…Friends You’ve Never Met in Real Life
In the animal rescue world—and other social groups and chat rooms all over the internet—we become fast friends with folks but never meet them in person. Monica is one such friend for me, and since we weren’t far we arranged lunch at an Indian restaurant in Richmond, Indiana. She and I talked and ate, gabbed and had a dessert, and then yakked even longer at a local park. It felt like we’d always known one another.
I met Monica in a cool way. She was one of the first people to follow my somewhat dubious lead and chain herself to a doghouse in order to raise awareness for chained dogs. Even though she did it many miles away in Indiana while I was chained in Pennsylvania, it warmed the cocker spaniels of my heart that I wasn’t so alone after all. We’ve been buds ever since. Thank you, Monica!
I Also Met an Indiana Ghost Town
After my lunch with Monica, I drove to a town the internet told me was touristy in search of postcards. I now believe the internet was conspiring to kill me, because when I got to Metamora, it was COMPLETELY ABANDONED—with the exception of this creepy clown and his duck friends.
Joe is adamant about sending postcards to family and friends from each state, but it’s not so easy finding postcards these days unless you’re at a major tourist attraction.
We aren’t always in such places, because we wander around aimlessly trying to figure out what actual tourists DO in each state. Then we trust the internet’s advice and end up in places like Metamora, often to our detriment.
You wouldn’t catch me there at night, no sirree.
But I did learn about the extinction of the Passenger Pigeons, and surprise, it was indeed man who killed them off, to our infinite chagrin. This is why we can’t have nice things, America!
Then We Mosied Along to Kentucky, Land of the Million Caves
Do you ever wonder why you continue to tour caves, when they all look exactly the same? Yeah, me too.
In Kentucky we camped near Mammoth Caves, which is an actual world-famous tourist attraction, so we deserve a pat on the back for finding one after the Metamora debacle in Indiana. Go, us!
We first toured Diamond Caverns, as it was right outside our campground and it would have been rude to simply ignore them for shinier objects nearby.
The most interesting takeaway from our tour was that in the 1920s there were actual Cave Wars because the local competition was so great, and they even undertook such dastardly deeds as breaking one another’s stalactites and burning buildings! Harsh.
I also learned there are cave crayfish without eyes who live for 70 years (didn’t see that comin’), plus cave crickets who look like spiders and are pursued by cave beetles who want to consume their eggs.
I hate to eat my words so soon after saying all caves are the same, but Mammoth Cave was well-worth the price of admission. It’s called a “dead” cave because the water doesn’t get through much of the rock above and so it doesn’t have the usual stalactite/stalagmite stuff. We went on a guided tour with like fifty people, and I was shocked at the massive rooms and miles of tunnels that have been discovered and made available to tour.
I must read too many dystopian novels, though, because I was totally planning how I would live there when the zombie apocalypse hits. Oh, who am I kidding. I’m the first one dead, and we all know it. You’ll probably be second.
Anyone else a Twilight fan? These shots reminded me of the end of the second movie where the vampire is bringing a busload of tourists into the caverns below the city to become her masters’ next meal. Yikes!
The Best Thing About the Corvette Museum? The Cars that Fell into a Cave, of Course
Many of you are married or have been married, so you know that it comes with its share of compromises. Joe is a car buff, whereas I usually remember vehicles by color alone and am oblivious to makes or models. So although the Corvette Museum wouldn’t be my cuppa, I went along and was pleasantly surprised at how well-put-together it was. We took a guided tour, but I’m not sure you would need it, because you can learn more on your own; but you do you.
A couple of things I liked about the museum:
New Corvette owners can pick their cars up at the museum and get the royal treatment while tourists of the world watch and slaver.
No lie, this old guy pictured here—no teeth and a walker—was one of the new car owners on the day of our visit! I’d love to hear the story behind this.
Did he save his whole life for this moment?
When did he decide to buy one?
Will he drive it himself?
So. Many. Questions.
I also liked the amount of thought that went into their exhibit space; and, they had some famous VIPs’—like Roy Orbison—cars on display.
Do you remember reading about the museum cave-in some years back? The story is featured in the museum now, and it grabs the attention of even non car buffs such as myself.
From their site: “The National Corvette Museum made international news headlines on February 12, 2014 when a sinkhole collapsed in the Skydome of the Museum in the wee hours of the morning. Thankfully, no one was in the building when it happened, but security cameras were rolling to catch the incident on camera. Museum visitation skyrocketed that same year as people from around the world were drawn to witness for themselves the destruction Mother Nature had caused.”
There He Goes with the German Food Again! I Told Ya’
Tamira Thayne's "Untethered" 