The Thrill of Walmart, The Agony of the Finger

While the rest of the country has been sweltering through an unbearable heat wave, we have been enjoying a surprisingly mild summer in Texas.  The temperatures have been warm, but not unbearable-that is until last weekend.  Of course, this was the weekend we planned to bring the camper to the house and begin the last push to prepare for our three month road trip.   With 112 degree temperatures and humidity to rival a sauna, we pressed on with our pressing to do list.

The Mister was had a long, long list of things that needed to be repaired or replaced on the camper.   We tried to prioritize these with life threatening or property altering repairs happening first, comfort and quality of life repairs happening second, and any cosmetic repairs happening last (or never at the rate are we going.)

While he strapped on his tool belt, I dove into the bowels of the beast to clean out the cabinets and storage areas of the camper.  Once everything was organized, I began to plan in my mind how I would store all the necessities for our travels.  It’s a backwards sort of organizing that goes into packing a camper.  In a home (or any other dwelling bigger than 300 square feet), you usually take a look at the goods you need to store and pick a place where they will fit.  In a camper, you look at the space you have to work with, and you determine how much stuff you can fit into that area.  It doesn’t really matter if you want to carry six pairs of pants per person, if your space will only fit four. 

With my storage restrictions in mind, I set off for a trip to Walmart to stock up on supplies.  I must have been quite a site standing on the aisle of storage bins as I crunched measurements and reconfigured tubs to get the perfect fit for my space.  When it was done, I had a basket full of clear storage tubs, a new (very small) toaster oven, a stack of new towels, and a mop and broom.  Looking at my line of purchases, the cashier remarked that I must be moving or reorganizing.  I beamed, as I announced that I was moving my entire family into a camper to travel the country.

Somehow saying those words out loud to a stranger while standing next to my purchases that proved it was not a dream, but a reality, was a moment of truth for me.  In that moment, I realized that this elusive plan on paper pipe dream was actually going to happen.  And, oh how my heart sang. I practically floated out into the Walmart parking lot.  The ton of gear I had just purchased did nothing to keep my feet on the ground. I was giddy.

I was giddy while I schlepped my gear into the car.  I was giddy as I started the drive home.  I was giddy when my phone rang and I heard a shaky, “Mom” on the other end of the line.  Just the tone of that one word was enough to stop the giddiness in its track.  Then he continued.  “You need to come home right now.   Dad cut half his finger off with a power saw.”  

Talk about a buzzkill.

Once home, I was able to access the damage, which was not quite as dramatic as my triage traumatized son had intimated on the phone.  The instrument of destruction was a grinder, not a power saw, and although a sizeable chunk of flesh was missing, it didn’t include any fingernail or bone.   If he was going to cut off “half his finger” at least, he picked the right half.   It was also fortunate, though ultimately quite painful, that the grinder had heated hot enough to cauterize the wound and minimize the bleeding. 

After a quick trip to the ER for the necessary medical care, we were left to reassess the current situation.  It was a day of highs and lows, perhaps a dress rehearsal for the emotions and experiences to come as we embark on our trip.  Certainly there will be days where we will feel like we are soaring with the excitement of our encounters. There will be other days that bring dismal failure and even disaster.    Of course, we want and expect more good days than bad, but we know that you can’t have one without the other.  So, we willingly take them both as they come, knowing that with a dream you have to risk it all- even half a finger.