How our Vacation Turned into a Trip

My wife and I had a really nice vacation planned. My parents were coming into town to watch the kids, so we were going to take a much needed break from the everyday…just the 2 of us. I had a one day training session in Orlando, so the plan was to fly to Florida on Friday, spend the day together on Saturday, I would be in training on Sunday while Stacy relaxed at the pool. After a nice dinner we would head to bed since we had an early flight to the Dominican Republic for 6 nights at an all-inclusive resort. Yeah, that didn’t really work out.

Strike One

On the Thursday before we were to leave, Stacy had horrible pains on her right side. She could barely sit up straight and the pain became so unbearable that we headed to the emergency room at around 9:00AM. Our first though was appendicitis. After two and a half hours in the waiting room, we were finally taken back for testing. The doctor prescribed some pain medicine, which had little effect. The CT scan showed that her appendix was fine, but the pain persisted. Next came a much stronger pain medicine…big mistake. While it lessened the pain a bit, Stacy became nauseated for the next 6+ hours. In the meantime, they did an ultrasound and determined that the pain was caused by an ovarian cyst. There was nothing that they could do for her so they sent us home that night (yes, it was now 8:00PM). After the long, painful day we decided to delay our trip and leave on Saturday, instead of Friday.

Strike Two

With a day of rest, Stacy was able to travel on Saturday. We made it to Orlando without incident and arrived at the resort full of hope. Our room wasn’t ready so we decided to grab lunch by the pool. On the way to the restaurant, Stacy’s shoelace was sucked into the escalator. It yanked her back and began tightening on her foot. The lace was pulled so tight that she couldn’t get her shoe off. Luckily, I was able to grab her foot and pull her shoe free along with a shredded shoelace. I’m glad I was there!

Strike Three

At this point, what else can go wrong? Well, let me tell you. We met some friends for dinner on Saturday at bluezoo in the Disney Dolphin hotel. For the most part, it was a great meal and conversation. We had a lot of fun until the end of the evening when Stacy started feeling sick to her stomach. It would appear that one of the mussels we ordered wasn’t so good. Stacy was the lucky recipient and began an 18-hour date with the hotel room toilet. Sunday was rough for Stacy as I went to my class. When I returned in the evening, I was hopeful that she would be feeling better. However, as the smell hit me when I opened the door to the hotel room, I knew she was as sick as when I left earlier in the day.

At this point, I’m ready to throw in the towel. We had been through a lot already and we had traveler’s insurance to cover the cost of the trip to the Dominican Republic. It would be easy to change our flights and just head home. But my wife is a trooper and a glutton for punishment. That and she really didn’t want me to miss out on my vacation. (She’s sweet like that.) So we pressed on…

Strike Four

With a queasy stomach, it wasn’t easy for Stacy to deal with the stale smoke of the Uber that took us to the airport at 5AM on Monday, but she powered through. The flights to Atlanta, then down to Punta Cana also were no picnic, but she made those work as well. Then, we handled the 50 minute van ride to the resort without an incident. We were finally going to be able to relax in sunny, 85 degree weather with a beautiful beach, amazing pools, unlimited drinks and a little peace and quiet. That was our theory.

We were pretty exhausted, so we didn’t do much that first afternoon. We took it easy by the pool and ordered room service. Things were looking up. We got up and went to a breakfast of fresh squeezed juices, crepes, omelettes, pancakes and fresh fruit. Now we are talking, until…

I don’t know how I missed that 6-inch step. It could have been the food coma after breakfast. Or the promise of a sun-filled day at the beach. Or, very likely, Stacy distracting me in her sundress. :) Whatever it was, all two hundred (plus) pounds came down on my ankle. I’m pretty sure I used a lot of profanity. I do remember two guys helping me to a couch and I swear that I was coherent as I answered Stacy’s questions. She says I was just mumbling. All I saw was white. I guess I was in shock. The next 5+ hours were…something. I was taken to the resort’s medical facility. And by facility, I mean a room where a woman with a stethoscope was sitting. She did give me some sort of pain reliever and a magic topical cream to ease the pain of my grotesquely swollen ankle. (No joke, that cream is amazing. It numbed me from my ankle to my knee. Good stuff!) Now the concern was if I had a broken or, merely, a sprained ankle. Of course, the nearest x-ray machine was “30” minutes away. They called an ambulance, i.e. fancy minivan, to take me to the hospital. The look on the EMT’s face as he saw my ankle was anything but reassuring. I wasn’t feeling confident. They loaded me into the ambulance and off we went on our 45 minute journey to Hospiten Bávaro.

The trip was interesting. We went through the non-touristy areas of the Dominican Republic, but we arrived safely. There wasn’t a whole lot of English being spoken so it was difficult to find out why we sat around for 2 hours with nothing happening. (In that regards, it was a lot like an American hospital.) We were finally told that the x-ray machine was broken. Yes, the only x-ray machine on that side of the country was not working. At that point, the only thing that we could do was pay our bill and head back to the resort, without any answers. Oh, and speaking of the hospital bill, that 5-hour roundtrip adventure cost more than the entire week at the resort. Fun times.

The Aftermath

We returned to the resort to finish our “vacation”. I spent the rest of the week hopping around on crutches or wheeling around in a wheelchair. We managed to avoid any additional drama at the resort. I truly appreciate Stacy for helping me survive the ordeal in a foreign country. I owe her a real vacation in the near future. Until then, at least we have a good story.