A Montana Summer: Day 2

The AI in my van asking if I'd like to take a break. She was quite the nag. Dad and I nicknamed her "mother". That's what my kids like to call me when they hit their max nag quota from me. LOL.

Well, hello again. It's been a while.

I thought I'd give writing a go again for a bit. We are on a summer adventure in Montana. It was so successful last year traveling with Austin, that we thought we'd do it again this summer. So I thought maybe writing a few words about it here and there might be fun and, of course, therapeutic. Because let's face it, traveling in close quarters with family on "vacation" is not always idyllic.

Let's just go back a few days to when we left the house to embark on an 18 hour road trip to our destination, husband driving his truck, and me driving Austin's wheelchair van. My dad and middle son along for the ride and to help drive.

I decided to let my dad have the first couple hours because I had, per usual, started packing late and stayed up late to finish. Not the best plan if you are going to drive 9.5 hours the next day. I mean, I have my list, of course so I thought I could just zip down it and throw stuff together since I've found if I start too early, I obsess over what I've already packed and worry too much. So I procrastinate all day until I just can't put it off any longer. It usually works out.

So dad was driving. I tried to settle in for a short nap so I could take over after a while. Once we got on the highway, I settled in and closed my eyes. Or tried. I couldn't just keep them closed. I kept feeling the van's movement: a steering correction here, a braking there. So I'd peek an eye open to check what was going on.

Let's just say, apparently I'm a control freak. As a guy, of course dad was driving way too close to Patrick's truck (or any other car that got between us) for my comfort, hence the braking. Plus he was learning the subtleties of a new-to-him vehicle, thus the steering corrections. I just couldn't. I spent more time watching the road with one eye open than resting/sleeping. I was seriously having major anxiety. I finally texted the teen riding with the hubs to pull off at the next exit. Dad and I were going to switch places before I died of heart failure.

So remember how I packed at the last minute? And I rarely forget anything because I have a list?

Well we arrived in a short 12 hours to our hotel in Provo, Utah. The first job after brining everything in is to get Austin ready for bed: changed, medicated, etc.

I've had a little plastic box that had a green lid with a handle that a friend bought for me after Austin was born to keep some of his essentials in. I've taken that box with me religiously ever since: on vacations, to his hospice stays, to his hospital stays. It is my security blanket. It has his breathing inhalers, special skin creams, 2x2's, tape, tooth care, pulse ox, etc.

And it was not with us. It was sitting at home 9.5 hours ways at the end of my bed. Overwhelmed with the day's travel, all I could do at that point was sit down and stare into the room in panic!

But once the shock of not having it wore off, we realized that we could make do for a couple nights with improvising some of the supplies from other items we brought, and since he's been so healthy lung-wise for so long, we could probably get away without the inhalers for a couple nights until we could get the box mailed to us.

Fortunately I have a good friend looking out for our house while we are gone, who agreed at first to overnight the box, and then once we got our brains working again, retrieved the box for my brother to pick up since they weren't planning to leave until the next day and would literally be meeting us in Montana before any overnight mail could get to us.

So it all worked out. As usual. And we arrived at our destination in Montana after 12 more hours of travel (9.5 driving) the next day. The teen helped drive an hour here and there when I just couldn't keep my eyes open anymore even after 5 hour energy drinks. And we made it in once piece even with the usual friction between spouses who each think they know it all and need to be in control.

In fact, that might need to be my next story. Because I may need to justify in writing how I'm always right. Ha ha.