First let me start off by saying that it is good to be home. Home is where my heart is, home is where my kids are, home is where I will best heal. I am with my family and friends again. I have truly missed them.
It is hard to say that I enjoyed my time in New Mexico, considering that I was intentionally going out to have major surgery, but I did. I love my Dad and I actually enjoyed spending time with him—even in the hospital. The people of New Mexico, that I had the pleasure to meet, were warm and helpful without reserve. Whether it was getting lost in the hospital, getting locked in an elevator, or misplacing my glasses loving people came out of the wood work to help. I have already mentioned the medical staff at the hospital, so I will not gush any further. By now you should see a pattern—I have encountered caring people everywhere. It was a good place to give Dad a great shot at life.
When I sat down to write today, it was my original intention to describe our adventurous ride home to Indiana. Early on in the logistical phase of giving my Dad a kidney, there was some confusion about the best way for me to get home after the surgery…since we live so far away. I had been told, at that time, that the risk of Deep Venous Thrombosis (DVT) is quite great after surgery. Then, when you compound that with the idea of being stuck in an airplane with people on any level of health (think germs,) it was decided that we should find another mode of travel. What naturally sprang to mind was the option of renting a car and driving home over the course of three days (stopping every two hours to get out and stretch.)
After the surgeries, my husband started to run down the details related to renting a car one-way across country. Rental agencies do not like this. They add hundreds of dollars in fees to anyone who should decide such a foolish venture. Several of the agencies that Steve called even referred him to rival companies. They really don’t like to do this.
After getting off the phone for the fifth time, with a yet another young woman less that eager to rent us a car, I mentioned the idea of traveling by rail. “Is there a way that we could get home by train?” I asked.
Steve was off and running. He has always wanted to travel by train, and this was a golden opportunity. My only insistence was that we have a sleeper car. I am glad that I insisted on this.
On June 18, we got on the train in Albuquerque, NM and 22 hours later exited the train in Galesburg, IL. It was quite an adventure. They did not have a Sleeper Car available for the first 4 hours, so we sat in Coach during that time. The seats were large, our fellow passengers were knowledgeable, and time passed quickly in the open compartment watching the desert landscape glide outside our windows. Before long, the Conductor was telling us that our compartment was ready and that we could move forward to our Sleeping Car.
If you ever do this, after you have donated a kidney, do not carry any of your own baggage. You are not allowed, no matter if it has wheels or can easily be slung over your neck. I tried this, and it was a VERY BAD IDEA. In order to move forward through an entire train, with all of your bags, you must carry them off of the train, walk beside the train to the new compartment, and then reboard your new car. Picture Steve and I getting off of the last Coach car, Steve heavily laden with as many bags as he could carry, and me carrying my purse (slung across my body) and grabbing the long handle of my rolling suitcase as it was set on the cobblestone bricks that lined the edge of the tracks. Can you see it? Picture a slightly red-headed woman as she is attempting to roll a ridiculously cumbersome bag across the sand and rubble strewn bricks. Picture still as the purse threatens to pull her to one side and drop her on the ground. At one point I just burst into tears, unable to go any further.
Steve saw my predicament and asked me to stay where I was. He ran the rest of the way to drop off the bags with the intention to then come back for me. Just as he got to our new train car the whistle sounded. I already knew what that meant—two minutes and the train would be moving again.
I grabbed the handle and tried to make it to the door when two angels jumped from the car and rescued me. They were passengers who were traveling home to Wisconsin. We had dined with the beautiful women for lunch in the Dining Car and I had told them my story. They knew that a sobbing woman covered in stitches needed someone to help—and they readily volunteered. They gathered up my bags and helped get me into the car before it started rolling again. Steve met us at the opening, relief clearly playing across all of his features.
Once ensconced in our Sleeper Car I was able to rejuvenate myself. I put my feet up and watched the countryside slip by as we counted antelope, jack rabbit, and pheasant. It was a wonderful ride. We had dinner in the Dining Car and watched the sun set in the Lounge Car. We even caught a few storms clouds rolling in as they unleashed their electrical energy.
Sleeping on the sleeper bed was a bit trickier. I kept thinking that if I had a few more pillows I would be less nervous about being rocked from side to side as I slept. I did manage a few hours of sleep, but more than that had a great deal of time to stretch out and rest my body. In spite of the uneasy sleep, I did awaken feeling like this is a great way to travel.
We ate breakfast in the Dining car and took a walk (a rickety one) through the cars to stretch our legs. How else can you eat, sleep, walk, and still drive relatively uninterrupted to your destination? I can’t think of one.
My wonderful father-in-law picked us up in IL and drove us the rest of the way home. The drive lasted four hours and was the most jolting of the trip. Add another check mark for taking a train.
I am home and healing. I will write more about that later.
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