Don’t look for a “vacation day 1” post, because it isn’t there. I was too tired (as we all were) to write about the first leg of our trip last night.
When we stopped last night, we were in Indiana. After today’s ten (or thereabouts) hour drive, our stopping point for the evening is Georgia. We have roughly another ten hours of driving ahead of us, after which we’ll arrive at our destination in Florida.
We — that is, me, Jessica, Namine, and my aunt — are going to Florida for a week. This will mark the longest road trip yet for Namine, and today was truly the test of our patience. All our patience. But Namine has been on road trips before, and she was well-behaved for these past two days. Both she and Jessica now sleep the sleep of the just.
A couple thoughts before I head off to bed too.
First, motels that advertise handicap-accessible rooms don’t always make good on their promises. I don’t necessarily fault the employees; it’s probably just a job to the individual, so it’s not like someone is deliberately short-changing us. On the contrary, the desk monkey we talked to this morning was very apologetic. But it’s still kind of frustrating, and I consider us lucky that all Namine needs is wheelchair access, and that her wheelchair is relatively light (being hand-powered, not motorized).
Second — speaking of Namine’s current requirements — I am so thankful that Namine is not machine-dependent anymore. Going on a week-long trip requires quite a bit of stuff, especially for four people. It’s a trick to fit it all into a single vehicle, even if said vehicle is on the large side. And added to that, we have to fit Namine’s wheelchair in there too!
But even so, it’s less equipment than we used to need. We remember how things used to be — the vent, the suction machine, the trach supplies, the feeding pump, the g-tube supplies, the list goes on. So while packing is a chore and it’s tricky to get everything to fit in one van, we always remember where we’ve come from and how far we’ve gone. (That’s not just geographically speaking.) We remember with a tear and a smile the things we don’t need to pack, and we’re thankful for it.