Sunday, January 4, 2009

Myth or Mom Part Two: Pork on New Year's

Did your mom remind you, oh I don't know, three or four times to eat pork on New Year's Day? Mine did. And it wasn't an entirely friendly reminder either. It had a certain "do it or suffer the consequences" tone to it. Which is understood since P is somewhat of a magnet for accidents. Think I'm being dramatic? In five years of marriage, the following has happened to P:

#1. Sank one boat in approximately 50 feet of water.

This is a fun story. Ironically, it all started on New Year's Day four years ago. That's when we outbid someone else for a '94 Moomba skiboat that was within our price range. Despite the unfortunate sinking, I've got to hand it to P. I had given him two stipulations: the boat had to fit our predetermined budget and it couldn't be older than me. It took him six months to find the Moomba and we were shocked it was still so cheap on New Year's Day when the bidding ended. Apparently everyone else was busy eating pork because only one other person was bidding. We "won" and started planning our first boating vacation.

P spent the spring replacing old parts and just generally fixing it up. We took it for a test drive at a local lake and it ran great. So we got together a big group of people and planned a trip to Dale Hollow Lake over Memorial Day. Our first day there, P took turns taking groups of people out on the boat. I was in the first group, the non-sinking group, and experienced a few hours of fun before P arrived back at our campsite announcing the boat's demise. As he was chucking all of our brand new ski equipment from a good samaritan's boat, I asked "Is something wrong?"

"It sank."

Everyone at the campsite laughed.

"No, seriously," I said.

"It sank."

I looked at P's younger brother, who looked back at me and said "I think he's serious." I turned back to P.

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"Yup."

Then some sort of park ranger showed up. So began a fun couple of days where we had to hire scuba divers, rent the marina's barge and find a mechanic willing to work Memorial Day weekend. It ended well though. Insurance covered everything and after about two months with the mechanic, we got the boat back in like-new condition. We haven't had any problems with it since. Stays on top of the water and everything.

As proof, here are a few photos:

This is a picture of the boat hooked up to the barge. It sank in the main channel, so after the scuba divers found it, they had to hook it to the barge and drag it underwater to the marina. The various people who had gathered on the houseboating slips with lawn chairs, towels and snacks were extremely disappointed.


Here's P's brother helping get the boat as close to the surface as possible. We basically had to drag it underwater to get it on the trailer so we could take it to the mechanic immediately. I can't remember if the people in the jon boat pictured in the background were helpers or gawkers. Let me tell you, this incident was the talk of the marina. Every time we go back, at least one person asks us if we're the people who sank a boat.

Oh, one final thing. How did the boat sink? It was a combination of the bilge pump not working correctly and probably too many people in the boat. We were also missing an important piece of plastic above the swim platform that allowed water to come in slowly over the course of the four hour voyage. With the bilge clogged, the water began to weigh the boat down and eventually, the back end started taking on water. P managed to get it as close to the marina as possible before the engine died. Everyone jumped ship and had to swim to the boat slips. P stayed in the water and watched it slowly sink. It caught an air bubble and hung out with the nose sticking straight up for awhile. Another boat tried to tie a rope to the nose to see if they could taxi it in. No such luck.

Understand the hazards of eBay my friends. P had put in a brand new bilge after we got the boat, but the bilge wasn't the problem. The tube leading to the bilge was the problem. It was clogged with leaves and other junk. We also weren't aware that the plastic piece was missing. It was about $25 to replace. However, as bad as it was, it could have been much worse. Dale Hollow Lake is over 60 miles long. It could have sank in a cove or even a main channel in the middle of nowhere. And in several hundred feet of water. In which case, we wouldn't have gotten the boat back and would have had to pay a steep environmental fee. Whew. We really got lucky.

#2. Had emergency surgery in St. Thomas for a burst appendix.

So P finally talked me into going on a cruise. On the second night at sea, he started experiencing intense stomach pain. After it got bad enough, he went to the infirmary to see the ship's doctor. He gave P laxatives. In what might be my favorite line of his since I've known him, he opened up our cabin door, threw the laxatives across the room and announced "I've never been constipated a day in my life!"

He was right. After the constipation diagnosis, we got a flu diagnosis. Then after they had to admit him to the infirmary on the ship, put in an IV and give him morphine, they realized it probably wasn't the flu either. We had to disembark the ship in St. Thomas where an ambulance was waiting for us. Within two hours, he was in surgery. I started thinking it was pretty serious when the surgeon came out to the waiting room and told me his appendix had already burst so the surgery would be long and that I should plan on at least a five day stay. So it was fun for both of us. I had the task of calling his mother and telling her "Hey, your first born son is having emergency surgery in a foreign country. Yup, right now as we speak. But it's cool. The hospital has walls and everything." (It was actually a great hospital. We just didn't know what to expect.)

P came through the surgery okay, but had a rough couple of days after. His temperature kept spiking and it was fairly scary, especially since we were there alone. I refused to leave him so I pushed all our luggage together and slept on top of it. After five days the surgeon discharged him, and told us not to fly for a few days. But P wanted to leave immediately, so we flew to Miami the same afternoon and he recovered with his relatives in Coral Springs. Again, proof:

Notice the washcloth on his forehead and ice packs tucked under his arms. That fever kept coming back! I kept taking pictures because there was nothing else to do.

#3. Suffered from a case of meningitis.

It was viral though and not bacterial, so according to P it was "not a big deal." Again, fairly stressful until we got an official diagnosis. No pictures though, because it would pretty much just be pictures of him sleeping in bed.

#4. Had recurring staph infection.

For the longest time, P insisted the oozing open wound on his shin was an infected spider bite. I insisted that he should let a doctor figure that out. He didn't and because he refused treatment for so long, he passed it on to me through either our bed sheets or the shower. Then he got it again under his arm. Then I started getting a spot on my thigh. Finally, I scoured everything in the bathroom with bleach, threw out a bunch of towels, rugs and sheets, and washed all of our clothes in hot water. It was finally gone after about four months of popping up on one of us.

We still don't know how he got it in the first place, but I'm guessing it was from the hospital in St. Thomas. Oh, I also got hives from the medication I was on. So no pictures of either the staph or the hives because that's just gross. I think I actually have some though because the hives made me look hilarious.

In the end, I get my mom's pork request. (There have also been a few trips to the hospital for stitches--his flag football league used to get pretty intense.) So I told her I ate pork when in truth, I might have eaten pork. I had two hot dogs on New Year's Day. Whether they were beef or pork is up in the air. Guess we'll have to wait it out and see.

2 comments:

Netter said...

With that litany of events, I'm surprised you'd chance it. Make mine pork, with extra sauerkraut for extra good luck!

Jim Brochowski said...

Netter makes me eat pork and sauerkraut on New Year's Day. We don't have a choice in the matter. Isn't she mean? ;-)

I keep saying, "Yeah, 'cause it's working out really well for us," and other such things, but she persists.

Ah tradition - never a bad thing. Besides, who wants to chance it and find out what "really bad luck" is?