A Vacation Nightmare (Part 2)

Con’d from Part 1… 

So… my family got the information on where I was on Saturday night.  My mom got on standby and didn’t make it down to Freeport until Monday afternoon.

 In the meantime, as I said, I was sharing a room with 11 other women.  The elderly lady across from me yelled two things all night long… every night.  (1) “Somebody call the police” and (2) “Somebody check the baby.”  It took everything I had not to yell back to her that the dingo ate the baby!  Sigh.  The woman next to me kept throwing up off the side of her bed, and the nursing staff was not all that anxious to clean it up.  The meals were served on paper plates with foil on top.  The food conformed to the shape of the foil because every meal was some type of shredded meat with either rice or grits.  Not that I would have eaten or drank anything anyway considering the bed pan only came around twice a day and I had to start asking early for it… ah, but not TOO early.  Tricky.

There was a tv in the ward where I was and they played the gospel channel all day.  At one point I woke up to strangers standing around me, with their hands on me, praying.  Not softly together, which may have been calming.  But loudly and separately, but at the same time.  Much like healers or evangelists, which was more startling then calming.

At this hospital, apparently it’s the patients’ responsibility to not only bring their own linens (the emergency room was nice enough to loan me their holey blanket), but also to bring their own soap and towels.  Since my original plans didn’t include a Bahamas hospital stay, I neglected to pack these things.  When it came time for my “bath,” the nurse brought out the only thing she could find… a big bottel of Purel.  Now, don’t forget, I have wounds and road rash all over.  Purel = alcohol = OUCH!!  No, I didn’t let her do it.  I stayed grimey.  Additionally, there were no extra pillows (or anything apparently) to prop up my ever-swelling right hand/wrist.

A group of doctors came through each afternoon.  Every day they asked me my address.  When I told them Cincinnati, they specified that, no, they wanted my Bahamas address… Every day my response was the same… “This BED!”  Remember, my ship and my now-ex bf were long gone.  I had no Bahamas address.  And every day they got a good laugh and moved on to the next bed.

But thankfully, like clockwork, I got my injection of something that made it tolerable.  Finally on Monday afternoon, I saw my mom’s face.  I think I actually stuck my arms out and cried “mommy.”  LOL.  It was like a mirage at that point but it really was her.  I was drugged, swollen, dirty, severly injured and yet untreated.  And we still had no solution to get me out of there.

To be continued…

A Vacation Nightmare (Part 1)

Wow… A LOT has happened since December.  I haven’t posted since then, and with good reason.  For those of you following my search for a new life, I have lots to tell and nothing good.  The best it seems I can hope for is more lessons learned.  And I’m not a quick learner apparently.

First off, EHarmony does not work for me.  I have not met one person from that site and have finally cancelled for good.  There was money down the drain.

Anyway, if you read my last 4 year history, it included a bartender I met while in WV on business.  As much as I hate long-distance relationships, I figured it was worth a try… After all, what’s the harm, right?  Yeah right.  Sigh.

We decided to date exclusively at the end of 2006.  I’ll leave out all the boring details but I traveled over 7 hours several times (in rain, sleet and snow) to visit him.  And, by the way, he never traveled here to see me… FLAG.

I also got a few anonymous emails telling me he was just taking advantage of me and my generosity, which he wrote off as someone who’s just jealous.  His friends all told me he was so happy to be with me and that I was “the one.”  He asked me to move to WV and get a house with him.  I actually began to think my search and blogging days were over.  I was oh SO wrong.  And I swear, I am not making a word of this up…

I invited him on vacation with me at the end of March 2007, my treat (he has 2 daughters and child support and what-not).  I chose a Carnival cruise that originated in his home town of Jacksonville so we could start by visiting his family and friends.  (I’m thoughtful like that).  We stayed at his mom’s and then were to go on a cruise to the Bahamas.  First to Freeport, then to Nassau, then a day at sea.  I couldn’t wait. 

Our Friday morning we woke up in Freeport and it was a beautiful day.  I suggested we go to the beach and rent jet skis and he suggested we rent motor scooters to get there… Something I knew I probably shouldn’t do, but it sounded like fun.  We got to the beach, had a great day on the jet skis and headed back to the ship on the scooters.

I’ll start by telling you this, I remember leaving the parking lot on the bikes at around 4pm and I don’t remember anything else until about 11pm when I realized I had been admitted to a hospital… alone.  Yep, the ship was gone, and so was my boyfriend and all I knew was that something really bad happened. 

I was in a ward with 11 other women in a Freeport, Bahamas hospital.  I had a concussion, broken ribs, a broken right foot, a messed up left ankle and right arm, some serious wounds and road rash everywhere.  And worst of all, I was all alone.  I kept asking the hospital staff if I could call home and my requests were ignored, so no one even knew I was there except for the man who left me there maimed and bleeding by the side of the road while he continued his vacation.  It wasn’t until over 24 hours later, on Saturday night during visiting hours, that a woman from a nearby church offered to make a phone call for me.  I gave her my parents’ phone number and she called them later that night after she went home.

To be continued…