CafeChatNoir

But holy hell, once again I am within 48 hours of getting on a plane to PHX and I am in the midst of the galloping crud.  Granted, I should have seen it coming, as I have been spacey as all get out this week – seriously, since about 2PM Tuesday, I couldn’t have told you what day of the week it was without consulting a calendar.*  This is invariably the precursor to a cold/sinus infection for me, but I never recognize it until it’s too late.

The overly rational part of my brain chalks it all up to unfortunate coincidence and the ridiculous changing of the barometric pressure at this time of year.  The not-quite-as-rational part of my brain says, “Going to PHX is bad for you!” The smartest part of my existence which isn’t even attached to me says – “It’s the anxiety leading up to the trip that does you in.”  That smart part would be my brother trying to assure me I’ve not totally lost my mind.  (If you don’t have a brother to help you out in matters such as these, I highly recommend you get one.  I’m pretty sure there is a category on Craigslist for this.)

Seriously, I can’t remember the last time that I wasn’t sick either when my grandmother visited here, or I visited there.  (Same thing has happened to my brother as well.)  Invariably this has lead to my grandmother being more than happy to tell us that we were weak, lazy & pathetic and got sick on purpose just to get attention.  Yes, because I’d so much rather feel like total crap and have people saying, “Would you like a Ginger Ale?” than just happily going about my business without desperately needing to sleep for 24 hours straight.

Damned if I know why my body decides to betray me this way, but I’m very much over it all.  Seriously, I’m staying at a nice hotel with a pool and everything – I’d like to take advantage of it rather than sleep every hour I’m not at the care center…

*No matter how broken my grandmother’s brain may be, I never have and never will fault her for not knowing the date or day of the week without looking at the calendar.

Some time back, I got myself on the email list for the Bellagio hotel in Las Vegas.  I suspect the reason I signed on to the list in the first place is that I still want to get in touch with my inner six year old who is in love with sparkly ponies.  From what I’ve heard, the Bellagio is the place to go for that very reason.  Plus, they have sparkly fountains.  (Given that I was absolutely entranced by the Disneyland fountain show as a child, so this makes quite a bit of sense for me.)

A couple days ago, I got an email that the Bellagio is doing a food & wine weekend with a couple of their sister hotels over the first weekend in November.  I love food and I love wine and I’ve never been to Vegas, and this is certainly a spectacular excuse to go to Disneyland For Grownups for a couple days.  (Grownup Disneyland being my mother’s description of the place after going there for a conference.)  In theory, this should be well BEYOND a no-brainer.  Go and eat, drink, and spend the $100 in complementary chips, and wander about marveling at the plethora of neon signs on the strip?  Who wouldn’t sign on??  (Or simply cash the chips in and buy more food!!)

And yet, I still find myself having a very, very hard time calling the hotel and saying, “Count me in!”

I find that I am having a hell of a time with the idea of non-availability for my grandmother.  She is in a very good care center, and they are being exceptionally attentive to all her needs & wants.  (Even more so after she fell a couple weeks ago.  I am totally OK with the fact that they’re still terrified of a lawsuit if it makes them more hyperattentive – not that they weren’t attentive before now, but that’s life in the big city.)  So – my taking a couple days leave from the real world shouldn’t be an issue.

And yet in my mind, it is still quite an issue. I am primary POA/MPOA.  And yes, should grandma break a hip while I’m in Vegas, it’s a just a 5 hour drive to PHX from Vegas, and that’s still a hell of a lot faster than trying to get there from IAD.  But when the care center called this past Saturday morning to ask about a flu shot (no) my heart skipped a beat when the phone rang and I saw the Caller ID.  And when Sharyn called this evening (they asked her when she came in about a pneumonia shot when she came in to hang out) my heart skipped a beat yet again.  So, I still can’t hear the phone ring without becoming mildly nauseous.

And here’s the kicker – my grandmother has a CD that will roll over two days after the first weekend in November when this event will be taking place.  Of course, Wells Fargo & Wachovia still not being able to get their collective shit together after the merger – I can’t reset the damn thing to cash out without showing up in person at a Wells Fargo branch with the Big Book of Death.*  (Nope, can’t do it at a local Wachovia branch – I asked!)  So, were I to go have some fun in Vegas, it would be nothing to tack on two more days, go to the rollercoaster at the Stratosphere and hit a local branch of Wells Fargo (which they have in Vegas) and take care of it, or even pop down to PHX and scare the hell out of the care center folks with a surprise visit.  (Though my presence would convince my grandmother she was at death’s door.)

And yet, I feel like going to Vegas for a long weekend would be a horribly irresponsible thing to do, as in my mind it minimizes my availability to tend to my grandmother’s needs.

So seriously – WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME??!?

*Big Book of Death sounds awful, but that is what we christened the Book of Important Documents.  My grandmother even laughed about the name we gave it.