So, this upcoming cruise and the convergence with Mom's doctor appointments is making me think of the cruise I took about ten years ago.
The story starts about a week before we were scheduled to cruise to Jamaica (et. al.). I woke up and my feet were asleep. The next day my feet were asleep up to my knees ... then up to my thighs ... in three days I was asleep up to my armpits. Oh, and I felt like my insides were Superglued together. Strange, but not that worrisome. Baffling, though. What could it be? Hmmmm? No fair guessing!
I was laughingly telling my friend Carol the ICU nurse about these odd sensations, when she interrupted to tell me she wasn't going to speak with me again until I saw a doctor, then she hung up the phone. Harsh!
Well, my insurance had started five days earlier. Why not go see a doctor? And why not look up "armpits asleep" in the medical encyclopedia? Told me nothing! Same for "superglued guts." Time to get a medical opinion.
A few days and a few doctors later, I had to explain to the neurologist that I couldn't take an MRI test next week, sorry, because I was going to Jamaica. He glared at me and said pointedly, "Well, I suppose the worst that could happen is that you'd be paralyzed on the cruise."
"Okay!" I chirped, and scheduled the MRI for the week I got back. Then I skipped off to Jamaica. And, I had a lovely time. [Warning: Photos are dated. It was ten years and 70 pounds ago.]
...we wore FREAKING GIANT GLASSES:
(Oh, and let me interrupt, you fetuses in your thirties, not only did I weigh 30% less in my thirties, I made 30% less too. Hah! Suck my balls.)
Speaking of my balls, we were only able to flirt with the idea of nudity:
And overall, though I put off getting a massage (imagine a full-body massage while your entire body has pins and needles), my mystery illness didn't bother me at all.
Of course, we came back, I got the MRI, and was promptly diagnosed with MS. (I should have looked more closely at the bottom of the life preserver in the photo above.) "Huh," I thought, "that's what they gave that soap opera actress on Days of Our Lives." Think of it, it's the perfect soap opera illness: amnesia, sudden dramatic swoons, peeing on yourself - well, maybe not the last one.
Later that week, Gary came to visit me in my hospital bed, with the cruise photos he had picked up at Walgreens. (Where they had been developed. Because they were film photos. Again: Suckmyballs.) I thumbed through the photos, when I found this one of Gary and I climbing up the waterfall at Ochos Rios:
I looked at that photo and thought: "Idiot, what were you doing climbing a waterfall? You're the sickest you've ever been in your life. Never mind that you can't swim, you have MS. Look at you ... look how sick you are."
I looked at that picture for a long time, then I decided, "Pretty good for a sick girl."
Since we missed petting the stingrays on that other cruise 10 years ago, we'll be visiting them on our snorkel trip in Grand Turk. There aren't any waterfalls I know of we can scale.