(Don’t you just love my football metaphors?)
Will is suddenly much better. We’ve gotten his vomiting under control and his blood sugars are beginning to even out. He’s even had enough energy to walk Zinnie, clean up the kitchen and play with the puppies. It’s like he’s returned to where he was before he went on that awful medication…and now it’s a whole new ballgame. Huzzah!
He also finally—FINALLY—got his passport. It took six months of wrangling between the vital records agencies in both California and Colorado to get it, thanks to the fact that he was born under a different last name and all the people who could have confirmed that he was one and the same person are dead. It also took a loooong drive to the passport office in Seattle and a LOT of help from our son-in-law, who cut right through all the bullshit and pursued the case when we had just about given up in frustration.
Now that we can actually look forward to our trip next month (actually, we leave in 16 days, 14 hours, and approximately 10 minutes, but who’s counting, right?) we’re getting really excited. We are hardly seasoned travelers, so even the plane ride to Houston sounds like an adventure, even though we know it’s really not. I personally haven’t flown since 1989…guess I have a few things to learn, judging by the TV news shows I’ve seen about the way the TSA has been treating airline passengers since 9/11.
It’s OK. Whatever I have to do to see the beautiful blue waters of the Caribbean, I’ll do, even if it’s invasive and undignified. This is the trip of a lifetime, and a new beginning of sorts for Will and me as we are going to renew our wedding vows on a romantic beach. I can’t wait!!