My journey south started with gray skies and drizzling rain. I am not a fan of driving in the rain, but I was determined! Google maps had a route that would shave an hour off the trip, so I opted for that and came down 52 through Rochester. Not the best road I have ever been on, but not the worst either. Some only two lanes. Everything was okay until I hit Missouri, County Road H and was so deep in the backwoods that I lost the satellite signal.
While driving, I knew I had to call home to let the kampers know everything I knew so far. When I stopped for fuel, proving to the world that I really do know how to put gas in my car (only if I have to!), I called Kamper Cheryl and asked her to be the Kampground spokes person. I was hoping to avoid calls. I do not like to talk on my phone while driving. I do, because the store phone is always forwarded to mine. I will note the time of the call for a reservation and tell them I will call them when I stop to actually make the reservation.
I won't even try to read a text. My problem with answering calls this day was my state of mind, mostly. Add the rain noise and the bad road noise and I could not hear well. And talking to close friends and family made me cry and my glasses would fog up and then I couldn't see. I may have been speeding, too.
I never want to make a trip like that again! With very little sleep the night before, I was worried I might get sleepy while driving. I didn't. I don't know if it was the two lane roads with sudden 25 mph curves or the adrenalin pumping through my veins.
I could not tolerate the radio, couldn't concentrate on a book and the ring of the phone made me jump. All I could think about was the doctor telling me that my husband was a very sick man. So I drove on bargaining with God and reminding myself to relax my grip on the steering wheel and unclench my jaw. I only stopped for fuel and bathroom breaks. I had no desire to eat and only did because my stomach hurt from my morning pills.
After losing the signal on my phone, I discovered that if I were to continue straight, as instructed, I would be in a corn field. Good thing I have a fairly decent sense of direction and knew that I could turn south on 19 and find my way home!
I am certain I could have driven myself to the hospital, what with my adrenalin overload. I just didn't have any saliva in my mouth! Adrenalin does that, sucks up all the fluids in your body. Terror will do that, as well. Kampers, Craig and Cheryl, drove me, while Kevin manned the office.
He looked awful to me. His pallor was not good and he looked so pitiful with all the tubes and monitors around him. With the pump attacked to his artery in his groin, he could not move his left leg, could not raise his head or his left arm. I didn't cry, but I wanted to. He was all chipper, telling me that he was having surgery on Thursday and would be home Friday and could man a golfcart to take people on a ride through our spooky trail.
Yeah, that did not happen, but the morphine made him happy. My daughter was several hours behind me and coming straight to the hospital after checking into a hotel nearby. I could have stayed with her family, but I really needed the comfort of my bed and my dogs. They knew something was wrong. They always know things, my dogs. We all needed a good night's sleep after finally being able to see him.