Scheduling a vacation to avoid the ER

What I learned No. 1

I went on a last-minute Scottsdale vacation to find relief from my Long COVID symptoms. My body aches and fatigue were heightened after I caught a two-week cold in January. The phlegmy cough lingered too. Frequent one-digit Chicago temperatures were a daily painful experience inside my body. I became frightened that I might land in the ER, again. I decided it was a good idea to spend money to head into the warmth and sunshine, rather than the hospital. I confidently booked a four-night stay, three days in advance, according to the best weather forecast in the USA, starting February 21st.

Instead of personal growth reading, I brought along a holiday gift from my brother and sister-in-law, The Authenticity Project by Clare Pooley. Halfway through the four-hour flight, I began reading the New York Times Bestseller about “being brave and putting your real self forward.” A character poses a question in an intentionally left-behind notebook: How well do you really know the people around you? I carried this book to dinner each night.

On the United flight from O’Hare to Phoenix, on my right, sat M. I immediately complimented her red tennis shoes. She was wearing a bright royal blue blazer and a white blouse. I learned that she works for the Cubs. She was heading to Mesa for three weeks of spring training. I was inspired to know that she found her dream job, later in her career, from a LinkedIn post. She is responsible for arranging activities for the player’s spouses and family. M is hoping to be able to join an upcoming team trip to Japan. Upon returning home, I bought the same shoes in the green option.

At the first dinner on Friday, instead of reading at the restaurant bar, I talked to J. J has lived in Scottsdale for over 20 years and knows a lot of good happy hour spots. This was one of them. Bario Queen's food was delicious. I ordered an additional fish taco because my taste buds were so happy. I learned J’s dad lives in Chicago. He planned a cold weather escape the week prior only to find out J was traveling. J asked if I was going to a game, and explained that there are baseball games every day during training.

My expectations for the Hyatt in Old Town were lower because of Tripadvisor. I was anticipating it to be worn. What I was not prepared for was the noise level at night. Shortly after falling asleep, I was woken up by the sounds coming from the nearby nightclub—over and over and OVER.

In the a.m., after grabbing the first of three cups of highly caffeinated tea, I asked to be relocated. There was only one other room available two floors up but in the same position as my room and a bit closer to the elevator. I choose to stay in my room. I was worried about the elevator noise in a busy hotel.

At the hotel breakfast, M and E, sitting next to me, said the sounds the night before were louder. They were visiting from Sedona, their hometown after selling their business and relocating from California in retirement. I learned that to escape the summer Arizona heat, you go to a higher elevation. I asked about the road to Sedona and heard that it was pretty straight up Highway 17. E suggested Ivermectin for my healing.

If my pain at the start of the trip was a 10, I was at 8 now. In a sleep-deprived fog, I drove North to Sunrise Peak Trailhead. This hike was a recommendation from my friend M. It felt wonderful to be moving in the warm temperature and bright sunshine. I was disappointed that almost everyone passed me on the 3.8 mile and 1,146’ elevation climb but my gratitude for the experience surpassed that. I talked to my friend R on the way up and M on the way down. In between I listened to my favorite playlist for a boost. I reached the peak and noticed a man I had talked with on the way up. He was sitting, gazing at the scenic view. I thought what a great unposed picture that could be. A and S told me they had done this favorite hike many times and already had pictures, but they took me up on my offer from a different angle.

From here I went to another of M’s recommendations, Flower Child. I chose the sunniest outdoor table. After my tasty wrap sandwich was delivered I walked over to the service station to grab silverware and a napkin. As I approached my table, a crow flew in to taste my side salad. My screech caught the brief attention of one adjacent table of three. They quickly returned to their conversation.

After lunch, I visited the bright Musical Instrument Museum which was recommended by my parents and M. The contemporary building houses galleries grouped by regions of Africa and the Middle East, Europe, Latin America and the Caribbean, and the United States and Canada. Within each area are groupings of native instruments and a screen. As you approach a screen you can hear performances on your museum headset. I found myself most elevated listening to the sounds of the orchestra. I learned from a staff member that the museum was created by a former Target CEO. He loved to collect instruments.

At dinner on Saturday night, I sat next to S and J. Best of friends, they were visiting from Charlotte and in town for spring training. J’s son, currently injured, had made it onto the White Socks this year. S is a retired mortgage broker. He believes that to be good in sales you need to be a good listener and follow up. After he asked me about the book I had brought to Olive & Ivy, he appreciated that I was able to tell him what I heard about his life including about his two children’s ages, grandchildren’s ages, his love of lake living, and his other good friend, an 83-year-old man, living with cancer, and the walks they religiously take.

On Sunday morning, even more exhausted after being repeatedly woken up by the sounds of car engines revving all through the night I asked, again, for a different room. This time I explained I was on vacation to heal. The front desk staff said they called the police in those situations. They have tried to change the noise ordinance. I was given a room three floors up on “the quiet side.” It would be ready by noon.

At breakfast, I placed my teacup in the most sunny spot, a high bar facing towards the front of the hotel. I returned with my food and saw I had company, L from Cleveland. For a non-baseball person, that red C could be for the Cubs and that’s how our conversation began. L was in town for two full days, two baseball games, biking, and meeting with a recovery group as a support member. A big sports fan, he was at the Rose Bowl with his extended family including his grandchildren this year. He and his son travel yearly to see a baseball game in a different stadium. Kansas City is next on the list. He has a close relationship with his ex-wife and her husband, both artists. He read me an inspirational message he channeled that morning about helping people.

I headed north to hike again. McDowell Sonoran Preserve offers great hiking according to Tripadvisor. It is well-staffed. After listening to my goals, on a map, C highlighted two potential options and let me know at which points I’d need to make decisions. I met S, a local, on the Gateway Loop at WP1. He had stopped to rub his feet and was turning around. Reflecting on our conversation, I think S asked more questions than I did. He said the Saddle, the 676’ elevation peak, was a half mile forward. At the Saddle, I met a local couple and their guests, one also escaping the Midwest cold. The wife taught Journalism at U of I and assured me that my son P was in a great place at Parkland. This conversation began because of the man’s college tee. It felt wonderful to experience the 4.4-mile hike in the warmth.

I ate an unexpectedly good pre-packaged sandwich for lunch because the grocery store was experiencing staffing issues. Wishing my friend S a Happy Birthday on the phone from the parking lot table, I could sense I was dog-tired. From here I headed to Taliesin West and began to make wrong turns. I listened to the self-guided tour at Frank Lloyd Wright’s vacation home and studio while taking in the beauty and education. The voice sounded remarkably similar to Michelle Obama’s. I left feeling peaceful, and that I was not meant to be an Architect.

My new hotel room’s refrigerator was not fixed while I was gone so I relocated, again. This time I was given enough points for a free night stay.

For dinner on Sunday night, I walked to the hotel staff recommendation, Los Olivos. The second seat I chose was next to S. He was in town from San Francisco. He is the head of security for the Giants. The hardest part of his dream job is not about working with the fans. You know when you meet a really good person. He is one of them. He explained how skilled the bartender was at his job (he was wearing a Giant’s jersey I was supposed to recognize!) and talked to the staff in Spanish frequently. I learned about a Mexican Bloody Mary - Michelada. I stuck with beer and declined the free Margarita offer from the bartender. This was S’s first time at spring training after 15 years of employment. I asked him why he was not in Mesa. It was not until I talked to L again on Monday morning that I learned each team has a town. Scottsdale is the Giant's home.

While eating breakfast the next morning, L read me an inspirational passage written by someone else about seizing the day. L wrote down my email address and the name of my book. I hope he reads Flourish because it could help the people in the recovery groups he mentors. The Contemporary Art Museum was closed on Monday, so I was contemplating another interest - driving to Sedona. It would fall more in the "seizing the day" category than window shopping and sitting at the pool. My parents travel there yearly, so I texted and asked them for their recommendation. Would they recommend a day trip or staying in town? My dad immediately called and told me how to get to their favorite hike in Oak Creek Village. He too, like E, considered the drive straightforward. I checked the forecast, added a jacket and leggings, and jumped in the car at 11:45 a.m.

30 minutes into the 2-hour drive I briefly considered getting off Highway 17 and looking for a place to hike. Did I have the energy to do this drive? I pushed on because I wanted to see the beauty of the Sedona desert. I felt anxious driving 75 miles an hour on the narrow mountain terrain. I listened to my favorite music and did my best to take in the Earth’s natural blessings. As soon as I got out of the car, in front of the small town’s grocery store, I felt pain in my heart. This pain was close but not exactly the Costochondritis pain I am familiar with - this felt more raw. Then, I noticed I was personally out of gas. I bought a sandwich, chips, water, and a kombucha. I only had the energy to drink the kombucha. I tried to find the trail but lost connection and ended up at a private gated road. I turned around and sat at a table in a sunny parking lot on the main street. All I could do was do nothing.

After doing nothing for a while, I parked at the Red Rock Visitor Center and Ranger’s Station, a recommendation from my mom after knowing where I was physically and energetically. I wanted to walk the station trail but stopped a few yards in. I drove back to the hotel and talked to my Grandpa on the other side of the veil about someone I love. I went directly to the hotel pool and asked a guest to help move a lounge chair into the sun. I was avoiding lifting it myself because my chest hurt. I hoped the pain would go away fast.

On the final night, I walked to The Back Door. I felt a good vibe when I passed it the night prior. I chose to sit outside on the empty deck. A handsome man with a book in hand strolled past the restaurant and I dreamed he would sit next to me. To my surprise, I picked a place with nightly live music. The guitar and violin duo began to play. After the first song, I moved to the other side of my four-person table to see the stage. I devoured three cheeseburger sliders and ordered a side salad halfway into my meal.

This last experience filled me. I had enough energy to walk a few blocks of Old Town afterward. I popped into the only open gift shop and bought a birthday present. At the register, I realized I left my credit card at the restaurant. As I was leaving, the guitar player followed me outside. I told N his performance was a true joy as he stood on the patio above me. I learned how he got his most famous song “Because You’re Riding in My Car” onto NPR’s Car Talk. He, simply, sent it in. He is from East Landing, Michigan, has two college degrees, and is an expert witness. I’m now following him on Spotify.

At 1:00 a.m. my body was shaking, ached all over, and my chest pain was extreme. I went to the lobby to ask for Advil and cranberry juice. The night staff person, G, gave me both. A woman and maybe her husband (who was nauseous and sitting off to the side) were also in the lobby. I began to cry talking about Long COVID. C reached out her hand. She, too, knows Long COVID well. She wakes up and coughs for three hours every morning. After the couple went to their room, G, sat across from me. I learned how terrible this nightclub situation is for the hotel and its guests. The reason Thursday night was so loud is because three well-known rappers played, plus it was a free entry night. G explained that the problem was worse when two food trucks parked nearby after 2 a.m. G has also found his perfect job. He only needs 4 to 5 hours of sleep and likes the solitude this role provides. I began to consider I might not have the energy to travel the next day. The hotel was fully booked for Tuesday night because of spring training. G pointed to the flyer with the multiple daily game schedule.

At 4 a.m., I booked the earliest appointment, 9:10 a.m., at the nearest acute care. After a quick and silent breakfast, I packed up and checked in. My blood pressure was 155/99, much higher than at my last doctor appointment three weeks ago. I saw my doctor recently because of a heart-fluttering sensation. At that appointment, I had a heart rate monitor attached for a week's study and it was 105/70. My EKG was normal now too. The PAC strongly recommended that I go to the ER at a Heart Hospital in Phoenix. On the paperwork, he gave me no choice. He called and told them I was arriving. He was concerned that I could have a heart attack on the plane. I called my parents, Googled the hospital, pulled an intuition card indicating that I should go, and asked my most intuitive friend what she would do. She said go.

This was my third ER visit since living with Long COVID. I am now familiar with the process. EKG first, then bloodwork, and in this case an X-ray. On my last visit, it was a CAT scan. The ER doctor was nice and present. I learned things: my blood pressure level could be related to the consecutive lack of sleep, would not cause my level of pain, and walk two hours into my flight to avoid a blood clot. Labwork was normal, no evidence of a blood clot or pneumonia. The diagnosis was musculoskeletal chest pain. The first nurse failed to tell the doctor about my 1:45 p.m. flight. When I mentioned it right before the x-ray, my doctor gave me the option to skip it. When I said I wanted to proceed, he read the x-ray himself and sent in a cheery nurse to help expedite my exit. C had her hair in two braids and wore a pink hat with a sprout attached. She asked what I do, and then shared she owned a business in Hawaii. She got tired of working seven days a week and is now very happy working three days a week at the hospital. My blood pressure was down to 130/90 which she said was normal for someone about to sprint to the airport. She gave me a plastic sprout to pin in my hair. Joy arrived again. It shows up at the most unexpected times!

I zoomed to drop off my rental car, asked for grace about the late arrival (and ¾ tank), skipped to the front of the lines at security, and ran to my gate. I caught the plane home that I was supposed to be on. I knew I was okay in the air. I got a free lunch box, watched a tear-jerker, and had one last lovely conversation with a woman from Gurnee, IL. She was traveling with her husband and siblings. They were fulfilling her brother's bucket list to see a spring training game. They drove to Sedona yesterday too and got stuck in traffic. It took them over four hours to get there and more than two back. I had a moment of gratitude for my drive - a new perspective. Their next trip is a Mexico cruise in October, a new twist because they usually do a November Carnival cruise in the Caribbean. They have been to all the islands.

I typed this on Wednesday from my bed with the green sprout in my hair. It’s 40 degrees in Chicago. The sun started showing around 3 p.m. The pain spread to my lower rib cage in the night. My gut, affected by Long COVID, and healed since fall, is unsettled. This is not the vacation I hoped for because I landed exactly where I was trying to avoid. The feeling I desired upon returning home is not present either. Lack of sleep was for the most part out of my control. The next time I reach a point where I am questioning if I have the stamina, I will choose differently. I feel gratitude for being surrounded by kindness on the whole journey. I am searching for my new dream job and talked to several people who have found theirs. And, I learned some things about baseball!