In the movie, The Rescuers, there’s a character that Desiree has referenced several times in the last week.
See, when the Albatross comes in for a landing at his appointed location, he hits the deck and then flips, skids, hops, twists, and experiences general chaos in the process.
We left Hawaii. We moved to Texas. On the way, on the plane, Leo sprang a fever. Since we have been here, our respiratory systems, with the exception of Johanna, have all been in utter suffering and chaos. Leo’s fever lasted until Sunday.
We fought and fought and fought the system until we finally figured out what the problem was in the system to provide care to Leo and that got us an appointment for 7:30 this morning.
Desiree and I loaded up Leo and Judah into a vehicle we rented through Turo, a large Denali, to get to the hospital early so we could get our bearings and also get Leo in for his lumbar puncture and then the gallon and a half of Mountain Dew chemo.
The sunrise was breathtaking. The land is so flat that you could see the sun coming up over the haze in the distance and the entirety of the sunrise all around. The freeway was empty of vehicles to the point that we were able to glory in the new normal for us. You can go 70 MPH here legally.
As we rounded a bend with ten minutes left in our drive, the road began to shimmy, like we were driving through Radiator Springs after Lightning McQueen took his first hasty try at road repair.
But it didn’t look damaged.
It looked smooth.
As the road straightened out, KABWOOM! The rear left tire disintegrated. Suddenly we were driving a very large three wheel vehicle with a tremendous desire to pull left. Some people waited for us to get over into their lane. Some people couldn’t be bothered. I got to the shoulder just before it was interrupted by an on ramp. We called Turo. We called the cops. We called the hospital. We tried very hard to not panic.
Deputy roadside assistance changed out our tire and got us on the road again. I know that I would not have survived trying to change out a tire a mere two feet from people driving 70 mph down the road. I was glad for that man.
We pulled up to the hospital twenty minutes late and the hospital called me asking where we were. Right outside. Be in in a minute. As I hung up and tried to hurry us out of the vehicle, the rental gave me a going away present. The trunk slammed down onto my head rendering a pretty awesome goose-egg on my noggin that is still there.
We got Leo in for his treatment.
He sedated very quickly. Best he’s ever done. He started the yellow poison life saving medicine.
We are in an enormous room.
We haven’t really slept much in the past few days with these colds. We have been well kept by family. We are so far from feeling like we’re home. But we’re home. And our house is awesome.
People have figured out how to help now. We have figured out how to find our place in the grand scheme.
We’re also an albatross, bounding, bouncing, scraping, sliding, and chaos-ing all across the landing strip. We’re here.
Désirée Marts continues to be immeasurably strong. She managed a baby and a blown rental at the hospital today. She snuggled Leo and gave him some awesome momma time. She’s had enough of a week to last her a year.
When she she left with Paul Vicalvi, I felt a large part of my strength and confidence leave me. Leo’s needs appear smaller whenever she’s here. I had my first real nap this afternoon. So did Leo.
Peter and Johanna are back at the house with Pamella Marts Vicalvi. They’re getting some solid Nana time.
Thank you for your prayers, friends. It doesn’t really matter how we land, because this big ole bird of a family has landed and now we’re here. Sleep good. See you in the morning.