I'm faced with a choice of the fire or the frying pan. I have three torn ligaments in my right wrist and my choices are to either live with this pain the rest of my life along with limited wrist movement, or have a MAJOR surgery which involves cutting the bone to shorten it, enabling the wrist to move easier as well as installing four pins into the wrist. Fun times. The surgery itself is intense, then two more would follow. One to remove the pins and another in 9 months to remove the metal plate that is installed to attach the cut bone so it can heal. Of course, the plate can stay in there forever, eliminating the surgery to remove it, but that's only if the plate doesn't bother me. Chances are pretty good that it will and I'll want it out of there.
Since I saw the hand specialist yesterday my stomach is in knots every time I think about what I'd have to go through with three surgeries. The alternative is to live with the pain or seek different treatment. Can I live with this pain? The surgeon told me it probably won't heal itself. It's been five months since I first injured it, and after wearing a brace and restricting my movements, it's not any better so likely, it won't be. But is surgery the only answer? For my own sanity, I'm going to check into an alternative treatment, because frankly, the thought of having my bone cut with the necessary hardware installed, makes me sick. But what adds insult to injury is
how it happened in the first place.
It was planned for several months. I was to visit my friend, (I'll call her Melanie) who'd moved to Arizona in December after having put her Texas house on the market in January. The sale took a long time which postponed our plans, but once she'd been settled into her new home, we made plans for me to visit in mid-February.
We'd planned this trip together for three months; what to do, places we'd go. Melanie had told me she had a lot of fun stuff in store for us and I couldn't
wait to get there! So finally when the day came and it was time for me to leave for the airport, I was excited to finally fly out to see my good friend.
The plane left Detroit Metro airport at 8:25 p.m. on February 13th, and landed at the McCarren International Airport in Las Vegas, the closest major airport to Lake Havasu City, Arizona. I'd been on a plane before, but never alone. I just knew it was going to be the vacation of a lifetime. I had no idea what was to come or what a huge mistake I'd made (but I'll get to that later.) Unforeseen events prevailed and my dream vacation would soon turn into a nightmare.
It wasn't long before the trip of a lifetime took a tumble for the worst. As the pilot taxied down the runway, the flight attendants began the drill of showing passengers where to locate their oxygen masks pointing to the emergency exits, in the event of a water evacuation. I had been focused on the flight attendant who stood a few seats ahead of me, when I heard the unmistakable sound of someone vomiting. Gross! This was NOT a good sign.
I glanced across the aisle from me to see a young man with his head in a paper bag. Good Lord, we weren't even off the ground yet! During the entire four-hour flight, I kept one eye trained on that man in the event he was going to use the bag again. Instead of tossing it, he kept it stuffed in the pocket of the seat in front of him. It smelled sour and turned my stomach as I was already a little nervous about the flight. I was also convinced by doing this, he was likely to use it again, and sure enough, he did, right before we landed, his head was back in the bag. It was a long flight and I couldn't wait to get off that smelly plane.
We landed in Vegas around 9:45 p.m. and after I was able to turn my cell phone back on, I saw Melanie had sent me a message, "Where are you?" I told her our plane was delayed, but I was disembarking and would be at the luggage area within 20 minutes. By the time Melanie had found me and we exchanged hugs, it was 10:10 Las Vegas time and 1:10 Detroit time.
I was exhausted and starving, but excited, and figured I would just grab something to eat once we got to the hotel, because that was the plan. She'd pick me up from the airport and we'd stay the night in Vegas. I'd have plenty of time to eat, relax and unwind. But that wasn't going to happen as I soon found out. Melanie told me Jeremy (her five year old son) was ill, and she had to get back so we had to drive back to her house, which was about 2-1/2 hours away. Until then I thought we'd spend a few days in Vegas while her parents watched her son, then we'd head back to her house. Change of plans.
By the time we were on the road, it was 10:20 p.m. and with the time difference, it had been close to 24 hours since I had dinner and I was really, really hungry. I wasn't sure I could make it 2-1/2 hours without real food, but was optimistic that we'd find a Denny's along the way and could stop. She assured me we would stop to eat something, so I resigned myself to enjoy the trip in spite of the hunger gnawing at my gut, but found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the views she had pointed out along the way because I was too hungry to think straight. Plus, it was dark and hard to see much of anything.
Unfortunately, there were no restaurants open at that time of night, so we kept on driving, hoping to find something. We did come across a Subway, and I walked in, but it was 10:55 and they had just closed and had put all their food away and were getting ready to lock the door. I was disappointed to the max. We got back on the road and kept driving, my hunger become more prominent by the minute.
After a while, something in her dashboard beeped and she said, "Oh, Shit!" Her gas light came on. She'd forgotten to get gas and her tank was almost empty. I had offered to pay for gas before we left, but she said she had enough and we'd get it later. This made no sense to me, but I didn't want to start out the trip arguing, besides, she should know how much gas she has left, right? By then I was not only starving, I was cold, (it was only 42 degrees when I landed in Vegas), and had the added worry that we'd run out of gas in the middle of the desert in the middle of the night. This vacation was definitely NOT what I had dreamed about for 3 months. But I had faith that it would get better. It just had to!
We finally arrived at her house around 3:15 a.m. All was quiet as we entered through the garage. The home was a lovely adobe style with a very interesting feature in the middle of the house, an atrium with an open ceiling so you could sit outside and view the stars in complete privacy.
Still, my only focus was on food since I hadn't eaten in about 24 hours, so Melanie made me a bowl of split pea soup and I made a turkey sandwich. After I ate, I felt a bit more human and loved my room with its bathroom containing a gigantic bathtub on-suite. We talked for a bit after she spoke to her son, who had woken up when he heard us come in, then I went to bed at 3:30 a.m., which was 5:30 Detroit time, right about the time Jim gets up to go to work. I almost called him to tell him I'd arrived safely, but I was exhausted and needed to sleep. Tomorrow would be the official start of my two-week stay in Arizona, and I was looking forward to checking out the surroundings in the daytime. Melanie had told me she'd had a lot of plans for us and many things to do.
The next morning was Monday, Valentine's Day. It was a cool day, but turned warmer in the afternoon and hit around 74 degrees. We sat outside in the morning. Her son came down with a cold the day I flew in, which was the reason we couldn't spend time in Vegas. I was disappointed, but of course I understood a sick child took precedence over fun-time. Plus, I didn't mind resting up a day or two because I truly felt the jet-lag from the exhausting trip.
Her house was beautiful, the outdoor patio facing Lake Havasu and the distant Southern California mountains. She made waffles for breakfast and later she said she needed to get some groceries, so I offered to go to Walmart that afternoon to get a feel for the area and save Melanie a trip to the store so she could stay home and take care of Jeremy, who watched cartoons on the couch.
I had fun exploring the environment, and found Walmart easily enough. I had lunch at the Subway inside of Walmart first, then browsed through the aisles and bought some groceries. I had yet to meet Alan, her husband, but he worked late at the restaurant that night for Valentine's Day so I knew he wouldn't be home. That evening I made chicken cordon blue for dinner. By the time it was done, it was after 7:30 and I was quite tired after being on my feet most of the afternoon. We finished dinner around 8:00 and by then I was pretty wiped out. I think the flight got to me and I would need another day to recoup. Melanie had made plans for us to go into town and see the London Bridge the next day. I had my camera ready and couldn't wait to get out and snap photos.
Tuesday morning, Melanie started coughing. She had caught what Jeremy had and wasn't feeling too well. The timing couldn't have been worse! In the afternoon, Melanie suggested we go see where her husband, Alan worked as a chef at a country club, so we headed into town and she pointed out some sights along the way. Before long we arrived, and she drove into a private gated entrance, then parked the Jeep and got out. I took a few photos of the surroundings as well as Melanie and Jeremy sitting on a rock. It was a beautiful, warm afternoon.
When we turned to leave the parking lot, she saw her husband on a golf cart. He took us for a ride around the private area of the club and we got to see the million dollar homes that only members could normally see. I was happy to see the sights and thrilled to get a photo of a
real road runner. She said we could come back anytime to use the pool or gym, which sounded like a great idea. I couldn't wait! After our tour, we left and headed for her house.
Later that evening, they ordered a pizza and two large salads. The dressing was outstanding. I was starving and enjoyed the salad and pizza. It was a nice evening, so Melanie and I sat outside with our blankets. Jeremy was taking a bath, so Melanie kept having to get up to tend to him until it was his bedtime. Once he was in bed, we spent the rest of the evening outside on the couches and chatted about the good old times we'd spent working together. It was nice to see my friend, whom I lost touch with for over 10 years. Jeremy was going to school tomorrow, so Melanie and I would begin our sightseeing. I couldn't wait!
Wednesday morning, Melanie took Jeremy to school and came back before 9:00 then discovered she'd forgotten his lunch on the counter, so before we could take off for our sightseeing, she had to drop off his lunch. Once we did that, she said we'd go to the Parker Dam, but then somehow we ended up driving through the desert through an Indian Reserve with a "keep out" sign. We were doing some off-roading and my back was in dire straits. I can't take the bumps and jarring of driving on such a bumpy road, and told her as much, so eventually we found a paved road and headed into a Godforsaken place called "Swan Sea," which was an abandoned mine.
Melanie was fascinated with the place and couldn't believe how much it had changed from the last time she was there and got some photos of the old buildings. Personally, I thought the place was boring and desolate. I'd much rather have gone to the Parker Dam, which was supposed to be our destination. I'm not sure why she chose to go there, but tried to be a good guest and didn't complain.
After a few hours, my stomach was rumbling and I pulled out a couple of Dove Darks that I'd stuck in my purse and I'm glad I did because it was close to 2:30 by the time we stopped at a Burrito place. She wanted to get it to go, but I know how messy burritos are and suggested we eat there. We got our burritos and sat down to eat. It was probably the best one I'd ever eaten, but couldn't enjoy it because I had felt so rushed. I had remembered Melanie was a really fast eater, and that hadn't changed in all those years. She finished hers long before I was done.
I was still eating and she got up, heading toward the door. She was impatient to get going and pick Jeremy from pre-school. I barely finished my burrito, and ended up tossing the last 1/4 of it in the garbage because she was ready to go, so I couldn't finish.
Once we were in the Jeep and on our way to pick up Jeremy, she told me that she really didn't have to get Jeremy until 6:00 because they pay so much for tuition that she can keep him there longer than the 3:00 pick-up time. Then why did she rush me through lunch when we had plenty of time to get there after 3:00? It made no sense, but I didn't question it and began second-guessing my decision to visit this person I thought I knew so well. I could only guess what she'd thought about me. It was hard to tell what she was thinking because she never came out and said anything, instead she showed me through her actions, which spoke volumes.
After a while, I got the impression that she really
didn't want to go anywhere, but because she had said we'd do things, she obliged, but when we actually went someplace, she wouldn't spend a lot of time there then made excuses to get back. I know she wasn't feeling well either, and allowed for that, but why didn't she see a doctor after a couple of days? She claimed she was too sick to go anywhere, yet she wasn't too sick to work. That was the only thing she seemed to be consistent about; work. She and I have been planning this trip for 3 months. Why didn't she schedule her work around my visit? One day she said she should never have planned anything for a Monday because it's her busiest day. As her own boss, she's got total control over that. Why didn't she plan her time better? She could use a class in time-management.
The London Bridge had been torn down in 1968 from the River Thames in London and rebuilt stone by stone across Lake Havasu, (which is a widening of the Colorado River,) from Lake Havasu City to a small Island, which the locals just referred to as "the island." It was a landmark I'd wanted to see as well as check out the London Bridge shops that we'd seen briefly earlier that week. On the day we finally went to the London Bridge, she didn't seem to want to park, and said, "I think they charge for parking." I told her I had no problem paying for it. Finally she pulled into this parking lot (free) and parked the Jeep near a stairway that led down the the shops. We got out and walked around the shops, but I had felt rushed because I could sense she didn't want to spend much time there. I like to get a "feel" for a new place so that I can experience it, I felt so rushed, I couldn't enjoy it.
When we finished going through those shops, I asked if we could cross over the bridge to the other shops. She said, "The shops are all the same." I could tell she really did not want to go across the bridge, but eventually she conceded and pulled into the "Island Mall" parking lot. She didn't get out of the car, so I told her I wouldn't be long, and began to resent being rushed. Wasn't this supposed to be what I came out here for? I was frustrated because we had the entire afternoon, and yet I had felt rushed the whole time, not really being able to take in the sights as I'd hoped I could. (Luckily, I was able to go there later on my own.) I found a couple of really cool t-shirts for Jim and within less than 10 minutes, was back in the Jeep. She was on the phone with a client.
One night after I had visited the shops on my own, I had a craving for ice cream and called Melanie to to find out where an ice cream shop was. I found it really quick, and again, as a polite guest, I asked if they'd wanted me to bring ice cream home for them. She told me that Jeremy and Alan wanted ice cream and told me which flavor, so I bought theirs and mine, and headed back to her house. It was the first time I'd driven back to her house after dark, but I found it ok. When I got there, I put theirs into the freezer while Jeremy finished his bath. After he got out, he had his ice cream and not long afterward, Melanie put him to bed.
When Alan came home from work, she told him that I'd bought ice cream and asked him to pay me. He mumbled something about "I don't have any money," and that was that. I never got paid for the ice cream. No big deal, but I'd already bought groceries, had only three dinners, two of which I made, and she also never paid me back for additional groceries she'd added while I was shopping. I had to let it go because it wasn't worth getting angry about. After all, I was a guest in her house and wasn't paying to stay there? Or was I? Depends on how you look at it.
While I was browsing the London Bridge shops, she had mentioned this cool interior design store that she'd wanted to go to so she could talk to the designer who did her previous home in Lake Havasu. I figured out later that's why she was rushing me to get through the London Bridge stores. We went to the furniture store and she didn't like how the "snooty" saleswomen treated her. I thought it was rather funny that she got so angry about it. She was dressed like a slob in a stained t-shirt and worn jeans. People can make harsh judgment about others without knowing the facts, but you gotta let that stuff go. She couldn't. She kept talking about it for hours afterward. Evidently, it had hit a nerve in her. I didn't know why this bothered her so much.
After we'd left the fancy furniture store, I convinced her to stop at a place where we could get some burgers before we picked up her son from daycare, which made more sense to me. I was hungry and it was about 2:30 by the time we got to the fast food place. It took 15 minutes, but I finally got our food and we left and got to the daycare in time, but by the time we got home and ate, our food was cold. Why couldn't we just have eaten it at the restaurant? This made no sense to me. I had felt a shift in our relationship after that day and things only became worse.
She'd suggested going to Monument Valley but said it was a 6 hour drive. I told her honestly that I can't sit that long in a vehicle because of my back problems and told her I didn't mind if we kept things closer to home, maybe spend the night someplace else? She'd originally had plans for us to camp and spend time sightseeing through the Grand Canyon and taking in other sights in the vicinity. For various reasons, that didn't happen. I didn't mind because I wasn't too keen on camping in a tent in the middle of the desert and told her as much. So, when the first week was over, we'd only gone to a few places nearby. Maybe next week would be better. I had hoped.
Each day was a greater disappointment than the next. What was the most troubling, though, was that it became evident after a couple of days that this family had no structure when it came to food, or at least if they did, it was a far cry from what I was used to. Melanie made it pretty clear early on that she "didn't spend much time in the kitchen" and didn't know how to cook. What I didn't know what that this meant I wouldn't spend much time eating, either. Not unless I cooked it or bought it.
After a while I knew that the only way I'd eat was if I scheduled my day in a way that I could borrow her vehicle and go out in the later afternoon so that I could eat dinner. On the days she and I went places, she usually didn't want to stop to eat, although she did concede a few times during which I had felt so rushed I couldn't enjoy my meal. It was definitely NOT the vacation I had signed up for, that's for sure. I learned to always carry a candy bar with me because it may be the only thing I'd have to eat. When I woke up in the morning, I was depressed because it meant that another day was here and I may not get anything to eat except for breakfast. It wasn't a good feeling.
One day when we'd planned an outing, I asked Melanie if we should pack a lunch and she said, "No, we can get something to eat in town." She took Jeremy along for the ride even though her husband was at home and could have watched him. As soon as we got in the car Jeremy said he was hungry. Melanie kept telling him, "We're almost there, honey. When we get there, we'll get something to eat."
It was an hour and a half before we finally arrived in "town," which turned out to be a small western tourist trap in the mountains that had only one restaurant. By the time we got there it was 1:00 and of course, there was a line. We walked by it and looked for another place to eat. She asked me, "Do you want kettle corn or ice cream?" I told her, "Neither. I want a sandwich!" What am I, five? Did she think that by offering me popcorn that would suffice as lunch?
After discovering that there truly was only one place "in town" to eat, we went back there and stood behind four people ahead of us. I didn't think that it was such a long wait, but Melanie had another opinion because after a few minutes, she took a hold of Jeremy's hand and walked away saying, "I'm not waiting in that line," then left
me to decide if I wanted to stand and wait in line alone, possibly risk being left in that Godforsaken place if she got angry at me. At that point, I didn't know what she was capable of so I didn't want to take that chance and left the restaurant line and walked in the direction I saw her heading and pulled a candy bar out of my purse.
I walked into a few little shops, mostly tourist traps, and bought a couple of postcards. I asked the salesperson how close we were to the nearest gas station since Melanie again didn't get gas before we'd left, even though I offered to pay for it. I feared running out of gas on our way back. She told me it was 37 miles away. Inside I cringed, and said, "Thank you," then left the store.
I found Melanie and Jeremy, sitting on a rock at the end of the street near the parking lot. She'd bought Jeremy an ice cream and she herself was eating an Atkins bar. She smiled and looked at me and asked, "Are you ready to go?" I glanced at my watch. It was only 1:25 and we'd been there less than 30 minutes. I had barely gotten a feel for the place, only went into 2 or 3 stores, and she was asking if I was ready to leave? Plus, while the candy bar helped to stave off immediate hunger, I was still hankering for a meal. So I responded with, "Well, not really, but clearly you are, so let's go." She didn't say anything to that, so we walked over to where she'd parked. I was glad I'd brought a water bottle with me since the candy bar had made me thirsty. To say I was disappointed with this "adventure" was an understatement. At least I was able to get some phenomenal photos on the ride up the mountain.
After having stayed there for 12 nights, I soon learned that dinners were non-existent in that household. Her husband, Alan, "the chef" didn't cook even ONE meal. This was a far cry from what I'd envisioned because for months she'd told me, "Alan loves to cook for people!" I thought I was in for a rare treat, visiting a friend whose husband was a chef. Reality was a far cry from what she'd led me to believe since her husband barely spoke to me, let alone cooked for me. The only night they supplied dinner was when they had bought the pizza and salad.
The only other time they cooked anything (that I know of) was when I was gone for the afternoon, and spent it at Melanie's mother's house in fact, sewing a pillow FOR HER, Melanie. Later that afternoon, Melanie messaged me asking, "Are you coming home for dinner?" By that time her mother and father had asked me to join them for rib night at the Elk's club and I'd accepted. I had no reason to believe Melanie and Alan had dinner planned because she had said nothing about it the night before or that day. Frankly, I was surprised that she even asked if I'd planned on being there for dinner at all. Up to then I'd seen no evidence of anything resembling a normal family meal. Her son seemed content with peanut butter sandwiches or cereal, but then again, he's FIVE.
Spending the afternoon with Melanie's mother, Sarah, was an eye-opening experience because Sarah had asked, "So, has Alan been cooking you some nice dinners?" She had an odd look on her face and I had the feeling she was testing me. I quietly responded, "No." Then she quirked one eyebrow (a gesture her daughter did as well) and before I knew it, I told her the whole sordid story. I told her, "No, he hasn't cooked. In fact, I haven't been getting much in the way of food since I got here ten days ago." I explained that on my first night, I cooked dinner, chicken cordon blue and later that first week I made steak. Melanie made enchiladas one night with an apple pie (her grandmother's recipe), but other than that, I didn't get dinners on most nights. Sarah, told me that it wasn't Melanie's grandmother's pie recipe, it was
her recipe! She also told me that Melanie CAN cook. She repeated it, she said, "She can cook!" Melanie clearly told me she didn't know how to cook. Hmmmm....interesting. Why would these two women tell a different version of the same story?
Sarah was appalled at what I'd told her and said, "I can't believe they have been treating you the same way they treated us when we visited them in New York!" What??? She'd treated her
PARENTS that way too? What kind of person does that? I am not a person who expects to be waited on, but when you have guests, it's expected that you inquire if they're hungry at a normal time when most people eat.Otherwise, why invite them? I had thought their behavior was rude, and kept making excuses for them, but when her mother told her father to "Stop making excuses for her," I finally had felt validated and that I hadn't imagined it. I was being treated badly. I was surprised her father had said, "I hate to say this, but she's BLONDE!" Then her mom said, "I love my daughter, but the way she's been treating you is inexcusable!"
It was indeed a relief to hear confirmation of this from people that know Melanie well and that I wasn't going crazy or imagining it. Melanie and Alan weren't being the greatest host and hostess, in fact, missing the mark by a long-shot. I'd noticed a change in her behavior only a couple of days after I arrived, but couldn't fathom what I could have possibly done to deserve such treatment. Even prisoners are entitled to three meals a day!
I had a great afternoon and wonderful evening with Melanie's parents. Not only did Sarah give me lunch, (and was startled at my reaction to this question as I had responded as though someone had asked me if I wanted a million dollars!), she and her husband invited me out to dinner. I think they were trying to make up for their daughter's incredible ignorance on how to treat guests. It was one of the best nights I'd had since my arrival in Arizona, and the only time I got to go out to eat with anyone besides myself.
When I got back to Melanie's house later that night, Melanie was on the love seat and Alan was slumped on the couch, half asleep. While she didn't seem angry, I could tell she didn't like that I'd spent the afternoon and evening with her parents, but at that point, I didn't care. Only two more days until I was going to be out of there and I actually couldn't wait to leave! I'd been a good guest. I'd tried to be understanding and patient, but she was clearly not who I thought she was and I was obviously not someone she wanted in her house since she let me know in numerous, countless subtle ways. I should have trusted my instincts and left as soon as I recognized something wasn't right, but I kept making excuses for her and waiting for it to change.
It was by far the worst vacation I'd ever had. Here I was surrounded by beauty in a place so very different from everything I'd ever known, and never had I felt more alone, especially in the evenings. And things that I'd experienced weren't by chance; they were by design. Not only was the lack of regular meals an issue, I learned fairly quickly that Melanie said one thing and did the exact opposite. She had told me we'd have a "girl's night" with a movie, which never happened. She'd told me we would go to her husband's country club to swim in the pool and use the hot tub/gym, which also didn't happen. One night we were supposed to go to a fireworks display and never went. She had mentioned some outdoor country-style restaurant, Ranch something, we never went. Lots of promises, few kept.
I asked her if we could go out to dinner, to a nice restaurant, at least once, before I left. She said, "absolutely!" We never went anywhere other than a few fast food places. She told me a friend of hers, "Eddie" was dying to meet me and we were supposed to have lunch with him on the Wednesday I ended up at her mom's house. I was excited that we'd FINALLY go out somewhere to eat and asked her what restaurants she had in mind. Well, on Wednesday morning, I asked Melanie what time we'd be meeting with Eddie so I knew what to eat for breakfast. I didn't want a large breakfast if we were going to an early lunch. She was sitting at her computer when I went into her office and asked her, and said, "We're not going to lunch. I feel like crap today." She seemed fine last night. What changed? And yet she worked all day.
I felt like she'd tease me with an activity to get my hopes up, then slam me down and change her mind mid-stream. I don't know what her motives were, but none of them made sense to me. When she told me that, I was not surprised in the least, because this seemed to be the norm, but I was certainly disappointment, so I just said, "Fine. I guess I'll have my usual breakfast," and turned to go into the kitchen and make my bagel and tea. After a while I went outside to sit on the porch and she asked me if I still wanted to go to her mom's. I jumped at the chance to get out of there for a while and after she gave me directions, I found her mom's house very easily. It was on "Constellation Drive," only about 10 minutes away.
On the way to dinner, Eddie's name came up in conversation and her mom told me that "Eddie said that '"Rene is dying to meet me!"' I told her that wasn't what happened. I told her Melanie told me that Eddie was dying to meet me, that's why we were scheduled to have lunch. It made no sense. Why would I be "dying" to meet this Eddie person whom Melanie talked about so frequently? I didn't know him, so it certainly didn't matter to me if I'd met him or not. Melanie kept telling me all about Eddie, injecting his name into many conversations and telling me what a great friend he was, he was into real estate, had a big house, etc. I had
never expressed that I was "dying" to meet him! She kept telling me she'd take me by Eddie's house but like other things she said, that never happened. I began to wonder if Melanie is suffering from some kind of mental disorder because her behavior was just bizarre. No other word for it.
The first couple of nights, we sat outside on the porch. It was lovely and I truly enjoyed it. The environment was so different from what I was used to, so wild and untamed, but beautiful. I wished we could have done this more, but later in the week, it got too cold to sit outside so we stayed inside, but we did
nothing in the evenings. I suggested maybe playing a board game one night and she agreed, but we never played one. I mean, if you invite a guest into your home for 2 weeks, don't you think you'd do things that are fun and spend time with them? The things I wanted to do didn't cost anything. I'm perfectly happy with a bag of popcorn and a movie, but the only thing they watched, night after night after night, was "Law & Order." Nothing else! It seemed like a very dark show and I didn't enjoy it, so I spent a lot of time in my room that first week. I also didn't want to intrude on their family time.
Being in my room had its limitations since there was no place to sit comfortably for very long. My choices were either the bed, which had a dip in the center, or a very hard rocking chair. I chose the bed, leaning against the wall with pillows propped behind my back. After a while my legs got numb so I'd get up to stretch and went out to the kitchen and get something to drink.
My new 10.5" laptop had become bed friend, my connection to the outside world. I was also able to talk to Jim on "Skype" some nights, but with the two-hour time difference, by the time I got on the computer, he was ready for bed.
So, that first week, I spent a lot of time in my room. After Alan went to bed, I'd go out into the living room, and Melanie and I would talk for a while before we went to bed. During the 2nd week, I sat in a corner lounge chair in the living room because it was far more comfortable than sitting on the bed, leaning against the pillows. I did that for a few hours and then went into my room, not long before I went to bed. This made those long, boring evenings much easier for me.
During the 12 days I stayed at their house, Melanie's husband barely spoke to me. In fact, on my last night, Thursday, he spoke NOT EVEN ONE WORD to me. Nothing. Not a "Have a safe flight," or "Thanks for coming," or even a "Kiss my Ass!" Nothing! Not one word. I had never met anyone so rude in my entire life. Had I known
that alone prior to booking my flight, I would have stayed home.
I was a good guest and contributed to the household. I washed dishes practically every day and cleaned up after myself. I didn't mind because it gave me something to do. I also kept Jeremy company while Melanie worked. He watched cartoons, but I was nearby and talked to him, got to know him. He was a smart little boy, kind of shy at first, but he warmed up to me later on.
I let their dog, a black Dachshund, outside when she needed to pee. On one night, she was by the door for a long time and Alan was sprawled on the couch and didn't get up to let her out, so I opened the door and she went. Poor thing had the runs! Could it have been because he'd fed her the pork that was in the refrigerator for at least 10 days? Melanie offered that pork rib to me for dinner one night but I declined because I know it had been there at least a week.
I also did my own laundry and added theirs in also. Even put them in the dryer. On the occasions I did use her Jeep to explore, I put the gas I used and then some. I cooked two dinners and went grocery shopping twice.
One night after I'd been there for a few days, I had e-mailed my friend Debbie and told her what was happening and she said, "You could have stayed home and done that!" This really put things in perspective. She was right. I had felt more like a housekeeper or babysitter than a guest, and certainly not a wanted guest. Melanie even had said, "I feel so bad for you! You spent all this money and I've been so sick." That was questionable. If she was so sick, why did she not get some medication? And how was she able to work so much?
I had originally planned leaving for home on Saturday, February 26, but on that first Friday night on Skype, Jim told me to just get a rental car and get the hell out. The plan was that Melanie to drive me into Vegas, and we would tour the Hoover Dam, something I thought we'd do when I arrived.
Given my experience with how well she'd kept promises, I'd decided to take Jim's advice and order a rental car from Avis and leave a day early so I could spend my night in Vegas. Melanie drove me to the Avis location Thursday, and after she dropped me off, I spent the entire day doing what I should have been doing all along, sightseeing at my own pace. I went to the Parker Dam, I took pictures, I stopped for a car show in town and had dinner at a street side cafe. I regret not getting the car a lot sooner. I could have visited a friend in California!
When I had first told Melanie that I was going to get a rental car, her reaction was strange. She said, "Why do you want to waste money on a car when you can just use my Jeep?" I told her because I want the freedom to come and go as I please without a time limit. On the occasions I did drive the Jeep, she'd needed it back by 3:00 so she could pick up Jeremy from daycare, so I could never really spend the time I wanted to spend without feeling pressure to get it back. As a rule, I don't like driving someone else's car.
Her Jeep. What a piece that was! The windows didn't t open, their was a pile of junk in the entire back seat and a pair of Melanie's sunglasses that rolled from side to side on the dashboard every time I turned a corner. I HATED driving it! No thanks. I'll get my rental car. It was she that suggested I drive to Las Vegas after I told her I was getting the car. Excellent idea, because it assured me that I'd spend my night there. Unfortunately, Vegas turned out to be its own nightmare.
I had left Melanie's house around 11:30 on Friday, February 25 at 11:30 a.m. after we hugged. I said "Thank you," but had no idea what for. Then I got on the road, had stopped for lunch, than drove through California and had arrived in Vegas around 3:00 in the afternoon, with a splitting headache, but couldn't check into my hotel until 4:00, so I had to drive around in the WORST traffic I'd ever experienced, with a headache that threatened to blow out of my ears.
Thank God I'd paid extra for the Garman. It came in handy in Vegas. It was there I injured my wrist upon arriving at the hotel and hauling my too-heavy luggage out of the trunk of my little red Aveo in the parking lot of the hotel. Not until the next day did I notice my wrist hurt and was quite swollen.
Not until much later would I realize I'd torn three ligaments and would require at least three surgeries to correct it and then there's no guarantee my wrist will ever be normal again. As you see in the x-ray above, the right bone would have to be cut and then four pins would have to be installed in the wrist area. A second surgery would be required to remove the pins and a third to remove the plate that gets installed after the surgeon cuts the bone. Not something I'm looking forward to, for sure.
I checked into Harrah's, a recommendation from Gayle, my sister-in-law travel agent and got nice room on the 23 floor. After I checked in and found my room, I was both exhausted, yet very, very hungry, but exhaustion won out, so I grabbed some pretzels and iced tea I'd brought and rested a bit, then went in search of food and ended up eating at "Spagos" an Italian High-End establishment in the Forum Shops at Caesar Palace. I found it by shear will because it was so convoluted with all the levels and stores, but once I found it, the meal was superb. I had the spaghetti and some awesome garlic bread. Just water to drink. That's all I could afford.
When I had left the forum shops, I headed back to my hotel and tried to get the internet to work, but no luck. Then some asshole was out there at 6:00 a.m. shouting down the hall on his cell phone. I had woken up and showered, then ordered pancakes through room service. It came a half hour later when I was out of the shower. It was good, but way too much.
Vegas wasn't my cup of tea. While beautiful, clean kept and certainly glamorous, it doesn't suit me as a person, but I had wanted to take the Hoover Dam tour, so I booked it from the hotel on the morning I'd checked out. It was the "express" tour. What I didn't know what that you either got to pee, eat, or see the Dam, but can't do all three because they simply don't allow you enough time since they force you to sit through a movie then take you to the inner workings of the Dam. By the time I was done with the "interior" tour, it was 3:20 and I still had to get something to eat lest I pass out! By the time I got my food, it was 3:25 and the bus was to leave at 3:30. I barely made it to the bus. The driver had warned us, "if you miss this bus, the taxi back into Vegas costs $125.00." I made it as the doors were closing. I had never been more stressed out in my entire life! No thanks! You can keep Las Vegas! Just get me home, Please!! I made my way back to the hotel's parking lot and got into my car and headed for the Avis Rental so I could drop off my car and get to the airport by shuttle. It was about a 15 minute ride. I figured I could arrive early, eat, use the laptop or maybe read. I got there at 6:15 p.m. and my flight wasn't leaving until 10:00, so I had plenty of time.
Only when I got in line, I was told there was a flight delay and they wouldn't be checking bags for at least another hour, so I stood in line along with the other people and just waited. Finally, they called us up to the counter, took our luggage and I got through security and after putting my shoes on, began looking for an open restaurant, but found none. You'd think on a Saturday night in Las Vegas, the city that never sleeps, you'd find a restaurant open. Chili's was closed. There was another small bar with minimal sandwiches open, none of which appealed to me, so I ended up going to Burger King, ordered a sandwich, drink, fries and a water and after taking two bites, decided I wasn't hungry after all, knowing I'd likely regret it later, but I felt a bit queasy so better not to eat too much. I think my nerves were shot.
I found a charging station and plugged in my laptop and phone and tried to get online, but I think they purposely don't make it easy for you to use the internet ANYWHERE in Las Vegas because they want you to spend your time (and money) on the slot machines which lined the interior of the airport. I spent $1.00 and lost it, then walked away. As the departure time drew near, I found a seat and asked a man to save it for me while I used the bathroom. After I sat back down, I found out that he and his wife had a similar experience with the Hoover Dam tour, only they never got to see the Dam! And they paid a lot more than I did, like $79.00 a person, which included a tour of Evelyn's chocolates, which was closed by the time they got there. So theirs wasn't a good experience either. It seems like this is all done by design. It's a large scheme to suck the money out of your pockets in ways you wouldn't even suspect. I'll never, ever go back there again.
So, you see, the entire trip was a nightmare and I couldn't wait to get back home to my husband and familiar surroundings. What a huge waste of money and time. The wild west is a bit too wild for me. I'll keep my Michigan changing seasons and crazy temperatures any day.
And sadly, my friendship with Melanie is no more, Finito, Caput. She's no longer accepting communication from me. This is another twist of this story from hell. After I got back home, HER mother had contacted ME through Facebook, apologizing for her daughter's rude behavior! I accepted Sarah as a friend and we e-mailed back and forth for a while. Evidently, Melanie found out about it (not from me) and told me to "stop e-mailing my mother with your problems..." I didn't initiate this conversation with her mother. Her mother contacted me!
I was prepared to just let it go and
never reveal to Melanie of her incredibly rude treatment of me, and how uncomfortable I'd felt during the time I had spent at her house, but when her mother contacted me, I figured it was a chance to get it off my chest, even though I was curious why her mother would contact me in the first place.
I found out soon enough; apparently, I had gotten caught in the middle of a mother/daughter battle that had been going on for years, as Melanie herself admitted that she and her mother had never gotten along. Perhaps her mother had seen this as an opportunity to get information from me about Melanie (and perhaps validating her daughter's treatment of her) and Melanie had wrongly assumed I'd been the one going behind her back to get in touch with her mother. Clearly, she was somehow threatened by any contact between her mother and myself.
Looking back, I'm angry about the entire episode. I'm furious that she (Melanie) shut ME out, not accepting e-mails from me, when I did
NOTHING wrong. I was a good guest and left her home on a good note, even though I had every right to be angry and tell her so. I also resent being used by her mother as a source of information. It's the only logical reason her mother would have contacted me in the first place. She had to have known I'd respond and fill her in about my stay at her daughter's house! While I was at her (Sarah's) house and she was preparing my lunch, she told me that if she'd known how they were treating me, she'd have come to get me and bring me to her house. I can well imagine how that would have gone over!
I've recited this "vacation" from hell to my friends and family numerous times and everyone tells me that had it been them, they'd have left after the first two days. Looking back at how it ended, I wish I'd have either left sooner, or just gone elsewhere after the first few days. I had better expectations because for months she told me "there's so much to do and so much to see," so is it my fault that none of that happened? What, exactly, did I do wrong?
And now I've got a severely damaged right wrist that hurts every time I use it, just another daily reminder of my "vacation from hell" a gift that keeps on giving. Lesson learned. Don't take vacations alone, especially visiting someone you think you know, but you really don't know at all. And mostly, have a back-up plan!
