Arizona Lessons Learned Thus Far

Not Your Home

When traveling from OH to AZ where you will end up staying up late and drinking multiple beers, it is well to think about where you are when you wake up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. This extra time will remind you that you are NOT in your own apartment and so you will be more likely to NOT walk, mouth first, smack into the dresser your mother has in the hallway.

Because that is what I did. Arizona is three hours behind Ohio right now because they don't do that silly daylight saving thing. So I got up at 6:30 to work, then took Johan to the vet and myself to the airport. Got to Arizona at about 3PM EST and to my mother's home at about 4PM where I immediately set about going back to work so as not to have to use all of my PTO. I had two glasses of rancid white wine before pouring out the bottle, and then returned to work. 

At 11:30 EST, my mom, her neighbor Kara, and I went to the local bar where I had three tall beers. A good time was had by all and we were probably there for a good 90 minutes. I ended up going to sleep at 2:30AM EST. Woke up in the middle of the night to pee, forgot where I was, and slammed my face and arm into my mother's dresser. Fortunately, there is no lasting damage, just a sort lip. But still. 

Temperature is Relative

After getting up at 6AM Arizona time and putting in 4 or 5 hours of work, having had nothing but a few pieces of cheese, two cups of coffee, and two diet sodas, I decided to check the weather. 86, real feel 89. Not bad. so I put on my jogging gear and head out. Perfect way to spend a lunch break, yeah? So what if I had a couple of beers last night and haven't really hydrated much? I'll drink a little water before I go. And hey, I ran for the first time in ages on Monday and did four intervals of walk 4 min run 4 min and that was after lord knows how much time off. I've totally got this.

You know what Arizona doesn't have a lot of? Especially Southwest Arizona? Clouds. Not a lot of clouds and not a lot of lush trees lining residential streets. That is to say, SHADE. So when one reads 86 real feel 89 in Arizona, even with it's low humidity, it should still be read as roughly 100 degrees cooler than the center of the sun. And downing half a bottle of water right before you head out isn't going to help.

If you are like me, this is what is going to happen:  You'll start off pretty strong, doing your warm up walk, bobbing your head to the music and feeling your ponytail swish around. Then you'll run that first four minute interval. Coming out of that, you're still feeling pretty good but you notice that you are suddenly parched like you've never even heard of water and somehow your lips have completely dried out. But no biggie, you can handle that. So you walk 4 minutes and then go into your second 4 minutes of your slow jog. Once completed, you'll realize that you are in trouble and that you need to get back to your mother's house. You aren't going to quit, but you are going to get a bottle of water to carry with you as you continue.

At this point you will realize that you are lost in your mother's neighborhood where everything looks alike. You will also suddenly notice the little lizards darting all about. You'll check your pulse using your cardio watch and see that it is 183 after you are done running and never drops below 139. You'll also notice that the metal sensor has heated up quite nicely.

You'll start eyeing the hoses that are laying in front of people's houses at this point.

Eventually you will, indeed, find your mother's house, grab the water, and then head out. You'll run your third and final interval of 4 minutes, walk 4 minutes, do a 5 minute cool down walk (all the while wondering how you got to be so stupid) and then return to your mother's house where your Ammy and her aide will make fun of you. 

I am clearly not one of Darwin's proudest examples of natural selection and evolution. 

Top Shelf

I Said No, No, No! 
Where have I been? I've been 2,500 miles away visiting my Viking. She had bilateral iliac stent surgery, trying to get blood flowing through her legs. She developed a clot that didn't break up with heparin and nitropatches so they had to do more surgery. And I was so fucked up with what has been going on in my life that I needed my momma to take care of me.

So I booked a flight and flew to the desert. I have my issues with my mother and I complain and bitch about her. But one thing I always tell people is that she is incredibly strong. I didn't really understand how strong until this trip. I saw my beloved Viking in the hospital and she looked so frail and weak. Things got bad, she couldn't stand on her own, and mom had to spend a lot of time in the hospital. Then they transferred V to a rehab facility. Mom and I went to drop off her clothing and we ended up staying for awhile because it was evident that V was sicker than we'd been told. I watched as a nurse helped V up off the bed into a wheelchair. V had a lot of trouble and was wearing a diaper. I felt traumatized seeing that happen. That's when I realized that my mother has been watching this sort of thing for years. She's been sitting in a chair listening to V bitch, hallucinate, and cry because of the pain. I don't know if you've ever watched a loved one suffer, but if you have, imagine sitting with that person for ten hours at a time. Imagine seeing that person needing help to stand just to get into a wheelchair in order to get to the bathroom only to not make it in time. It is heartbreaking and I couldn't handle it. I dealt with it for maybe two hours. My mom has been dealing with it, witnessing it, and taking care of it for years. That is strength. One of my last nights there, mom had to go back to the hospital at 11pm when the rehab facility called and told her they were transferring V to a general hospital because she was too ill. Mom went and didn't come home until 3:30 a.m. She was called by the admitting physician at 4:00 a.m. She got no real sleep and was up the next day to go back to the hospital at 8 a.m. Then she came home around noon to take me to lunch and visit with me before taking me to the airport.

That is strength. She does it on her own. I went to see my Viking and be taken care of by my mother and I ended up treating my mom to various meals and cleaning parts of her home. In the end, everyone assumed I went out to take care of her. She even felt bad when she was driving me to the airport, saying she felt bad that I did not get pampered, that I had come out for a ruined trip. She asked if I regretted it but I didn't and I don't. I'm glad I was able to be there in some small way. She had one full day with me when she was able to window shop and eat out and relax. She gets so few breaks that I feel good that I was able to provide her with one. And I admire her all the more for the strength that she has.

First Class All the Way

The best part of my trip turned out to be the flight home. My flight out was terrible. The plane was an old one, tiny, with no room whatsoever. I'm not huge, I'm probably just average for an overweight American. But I couldn't read without lifting my arms up or else I'd hit the arm rests. I was in the middle, which is always awesome, and the seat in front of me was all up in my grill, as the kids say. My overhead light didn't work and if I wanted to use my tray table, I had to remove all the god damn magazines to put it up or down. I spilled shit all over my bag and felt like I was bothering my neighbors every time I went to get something.

So I splurged for an upgrade on the way home and experienced my first ever flight in first class. It really is all that you could imagine. You get to board first and as soon as you sit down the flight attendant offers you a glass of wine (or beer, or soda, or water, or whatever cocktail you might want). They give you a real meal! Not a box with a sandwich and some grapes but a real meal. I had ravioli with a mushroom cream sauce. That's what she said when she gave me my choices. Do you know what they brought me? A pre meal savory snack back followed by my ravioli with a side salad and a plate with smoked salami, fresh mozzarella, a gouda. Then she came out with a bread basket. I had a small wine glass that she kept refilling and when I couldn't eat more, she asked if I had room for dessert, delicious cheese cake.

Oh, and that wine? From a full size wine bottle, not those little ones they sell for $7 a pop.

And soooo much leg room! I was obviously the only person there who was a first class newbie and I was totally enjoying it. I even took pictures of the leg room and my food and my wine glass. The flight attendant took my picture and people behind me asked her why. I'm sure they thought it was hilarious when she told them. It was just so fucking rad. My friend told me I could have gone to sleep (night flight and I arrived home at 1:10 a.m.) but I told her "I couldn't! I had to stay awake to enjoy every minute of it!"

I will admit to feeling a bit snobby and awful when I breezed through the security line without any real wait (though I ended up being screened) and when I was sitting there with a glass of wine as the others slowly boarded and some ended up having to gate check their bags. But I think I've been ruined for coach and will have to plan way in advance before traveling again so that I can save up. I even signed up for the dividend program with hopes of being able to send J on a first class flight one day because it was amazing.

I don't know if it was on my bucket list, I'll have to look. But everyone should fly first class at least once.