the good, the bad and the ugly...part 3

And now for the ugly:

Before we left, we had extensive discussions with the kids about what to eat and not eat, what to drink and not drink, washing teeth with bottled water, about washing hands frequently and all. Mostly because of baby boy's peanut allergies and also because of the dreaded "tourista".

As I said, hubby was a little tense and strung out for the first little while. So we had him book himself a scuba diving excursion on the 3rd day and a golf game on the fourth. Gets up to go diving and tells me his stomach is feeling funny. Off he goes. When he returns a few hours later, I can tell he's not well. I figured it was the boat that made him seasick. He spends the rest of the day in bed. Next morning, he can't go golfing. He's been vomiting all night. He's got diarrhea and severe stomach cramps. We send him off to the hotel's doctor. They want to send him to the nearest hospital, but he settles for over $US200 of medications. He ends up spending the rest of his holidays in the room, lying down. He couldn't keep anything down. He had moments were he felt a bit better and would come out with us for a little walk or lie in the shade on the beach but that's it.

I felt so bad for him. The main reason I booked this holiday was for him. It was a lot more than we intended to spend on a summer holiday but I really felt he needed to really get away instead of just staying home. I had to argue with him to get him to agree to finally go. Plus the weather here had been so-so and wanted him to get some sunshine. And now this :(

Damn.

So I basically spent the whole time with the kids on the beach and him in the room.

On the last day, we were slated to get picked up by the bus to bring us to the airport at 8:30 a.m. I packed everything on my own, dragged all the luggage to the lobby. Upon checking out, they tell us the plane is delayed by 5 hours!!! At that point, I think he's going to loose it. All he wants is to go back home. He decides to follow the doctor's advice and gets a taxi to drive him to the local hospital. Meanwhile, I go back to the room with the kids and we spend another day, albeit guiltily, on the beach. I keep abreast of how he's doing with the hotel's doctor who calls the hospital regularly for updates. Mid-afternoon, we get in a taxi (kids and luggage and all) and meet him at the hospital. He's been getting IV meds for the past 4 hours and is feeling much better. Good enough to travel anyways. Thank God that we have private insurance and thank God that I know enough Spanish to understand everything that's going on. They check him out and drive us to the airport in ambulance no less. Of course, the kids, who've been absolutely tremendous through this whole ordeal, think its pretty cool. Specifically when the driver puts the siren on to get us through traffic!

We get to the airport, only to find out the plane is delayed for another 2 hours...7 hours total. I find him a quiet spot and get him to lie down while I keep the kids busy. We finally fly back and make it into Montreal at midnight (instead of 5 pm) and make it home at 3 a.m. Upon waking up in the morning, he drives himself to the hospital where he spends the day getting tests. We are still awaiting results.

He lost 10 pounds, we spent all this money for him to get sick and spend his week off in a hotel room AND the weather was apparently great here while we were gone. Dammit. I doubt he'll ever want to go back there and will hold me responsible for this unfortunate turn of events. But for myself, and especially the kids, it was a great get-away. The kids did really have a blast and getting exposed to another culture was so enriching for them. They picked up quite a few Spanish words and bought the CD of the music they played there and listen to it constantly.

Every trip is an adventure.

This one a bit more so though.

Oh yeah, and aunt Flo had to make its nasty appearance right in the middle of the week. Oie vey!