Joshua and I were up at 5am. I showered and then woke him gently asking him for some help to re-dress the wounds. What a way to wake up for a 25 year old young man! He rolled over, looked at my ugly wounds and the rest of me draped in towels for privacy and he just sort of moaned... LOL He was pretty squeamish about the wounds and it was NOT pleasant to see them that early in the morning. "Ohhhh gawd, noooooo" he said as got out of bed. LOL
We got them all covered in the gauze and tape that he had walked all over town looking for the night before. The hospital had not even given us gauze and tape to change our dressings before our flights home, so my son and another guest of a patient (Jeff) went out on a trek to find the necessary things at the local "farmacia". Joshua had tried to find some kind of antiseptic spray (as the hospital had been using and that was supposed to be supplied to us, but wasn't) and had a heck of a hard time trying to speak to the store clerks that spoke only Spanish. He did in time find out that down in Mexico in 2012, you can't even so much as purchase an antibiotic salve like "Neosporin" over the counter!! Everything now requires a prescription! I'm not sure if it's the drug cartels or what, but it's a pain in the behind not to be able to get very commonplace items.
I was in a lot of pain still, but stronger that Thursday morning, and I put on a little bit of makeup for the trip home, which did me no good - I was still SO pale. I started working on some chicken broth from the hotel's restaurant (they had amazing food according to Joshua and their chicken broth was fabulous too - way more flavorable than the canned crap we have in the states). I knew that I needed to have some fluids on board for the trip home and I knew that it was going to be hit or miss once we got to the airport. One of the other patients, Andrea, kindly gave me one of her small bottles of Isopure protein water which I thought tasted pretty good and I started working on that too. I finished about half of my broth before the driver finally showed up an hour late at about 8:30am.
I ditched the broth and took the bottle of Isopure, and we loaded into the van. There were 4 patients and their guests/family members. The drive back over the border to the San Diego Airport seemed like it was going to be pretty simple until we got right to the border guards. They took all of our passports and told the driver to pull forward to a stall for further questioning. The guard told the driver, "Do not drive faster than I am walking" and he walked right next to the vehicle, escorting us. It was kind of a creepy feeling, but the driver didn't seem particularly alarmed. Once they pulled us into a stall, a few more border guards arrived at the van. One in particular took control of the passports and Enhanced Driver's Licenses and asked husband of one patient, "Are you Jeffery _____________?" The man replied, "yes" and they asked him to step out of the vehicle. They asked if he had weapons on him and began patting him down. I think all of us were in shock at that moment. We didn't know if this was something fairly routine, or what was going on! The driver started to look nervous and a little concerned. When they slapped the handcuffs on Jeff and started leading him away, his wife said, "I am his wife! What is going on?" The three border guards that were escorting him looked uninterested in answering her question, and one as he was closing the side door of the van to keep her from coming after them answered only, "It would be against the law for me to tell you what is going on right now."
The wife was obviously very upset and we were all trying to calm her down. That kind of stress right after surgery can be very serious. She just kept saying, "We just got our passports. There wasn't any problem. He hasn't done anything. This must be a terrible mistake!" She kept trying to think of what could be wrong, and could only come up with a warrant their son had in the state of Florida for a fishing violation. He was a junior, so she was thinking that maybe they were mixing her husband up with her son and that this was going to be an easy fix. We sat there in that hot van, crowded and unable to get out. The border guards were clear that we were not to leave the vehicle.
Almost an hour passed. The driver was in communication with the hospital, letting them know what was going on and some of the other patients were starting to become concerned about catching their flights. Joshua and I knew we were fine because our flight out of San Diego wasn't until 2:55pm! Finally Jeff was escorted back to the vehicle and he got in without saying a word. The border guard compared all of our passports/Enhanced driver's licenses with our faces to make sure it was really us, and then announced that he would have to search one random suitcase. He asked if any of us had any liquor, cigars, plants, seeds or food. Everyone said no and when he picked the random bag, he asked again, saying, "This is your last chance. Do you have anything to declare?" The bozo woman that owned the suitcase then admitted that she had a bottle of alcohol in the suitcase, but he was not concerned. He made a mess of her things, and left the bag open, but didn't have any issue with it's contents so were cleared to leave the country and enter the USA. Phew! That was scary!
For the duration of the drive to San Diego Airport, Jeff said nothing and was almost motionless. He seemed very upset. As the driver dropped us off at our airline check in spots, we all said goodbye and wished each other luck. Joshua and I got out second to last with Jeff and his wife only left in the van, and Josh patted Jeff on the back and said something like, "I hope everything is ok." Jeff responded only with, "well at least you guys will get home." Yikes! Joshua and I both were left with the impression that Jeff was going to be met at home with the police and maybe he was going to jail. It was a sad thing and we parted not knowing the details or whether or not they made it home safely, which was not a comforting feeling.
Once at the Alaska Airlines terminal, we had fantastic service. We told them that I had just had surgery and they were so kind and accomodating. They got me a wheelchair and helped us check in. They then wheeled me all the way through security and to our gate. I did have to get up and stand in the x-ray machine (I hate those things - what an infringement of my privacy!) but I was wheeled the rest of the way. We got to our gate as they were boarding a flight home to Seattle 2 hours ahead of ours. We both sure wished we could get on that one!! We watched another flight board and depart for Seattle and then we knew that our plane was next. Right about that time, we were told it was running late... Good grief! I had been sitting in that wheelchair for like 5 hours by then and I was tired, in pain and ready to get home. Luckily our plane was only a few minutes late and were boarding soon thereafter. They again wheeled me all the way to the airplane's door. We were in First Class (Row 2) so it wasn't a long walk. The flight attendant took one look at me and said, "You are very pale - did you just have surgery?" I told her I had and that I was ok - just tired and in pain. She was very good to me the whole flight, checking on me and making sure I was comfortable. The 2.5 hours back to Seattle went much faster than I had thought it would and I was almost giddy when I looked out the window to see Mt. Rainier. Our landing was great and we taxied in to the gate smoothly.
Waiting for me right outside the plane was another wheelchair, which took us all the way to the baggage claim area. Our luggage was available within about 15 minutes and we immediately saw our driver waiting to drive us home. It was all just so smooth! We loaded into the Lincoln Towncar (I chose it for it's smooth ride on the way home) and the driver expertly avoided much of the rush hour (5:30pm) traffic and got us home in about 30 minutes!
I was so happy to see my street and my house!! There was a short time that first night of the surgery when I wondered truly if I would ever see my home and family again. I felt a little bit traumatized from the whole experience, but seeing my husband's smile made it all ok. I was just SO glad to be home. Joshua and my husband helped me into the house and got me in my jammies and into bed. Boy, did that bed feel good! My poor husband had to go work for me as a karaoke host that night and so he had to leave shortly after I got home, but Joshua stayed and made sure I had broth, water and pills in me. My mom came too after a bit and stayed with me for most of the evening so I wouldn't be alone. Joshua drove all over looking for supplies that I would need and sweetly almost seemed reluctant to turn over the reigns to a new "team of caregivers". I know he was exhausted but he stayed for a long time making sure I was ok. It was very sweet and I really appreciated it. Before he left, he made sure that my mom was up to speed on my meds and when I needed them all again. I had a hard time getting comfortable, but I did fine and as soon as my husband got home, I sacked out for about 4 uninterrupted hours of rest. It felt great!
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