OH, HAPPY MORNING! Man that foot looked so much better! Felt better too! That is, after 800 mg of ibuprofen to deaden the pain. And a slow hobble downstairs for another day of Bagels and Cream Cheese and Frosted Flakes. Man that continental breakfast rocks! I really appreciate the consistency of the product mix and the freshness of the food itself. OK, so all that TLC I gave myself yesterday didn't appear to have any positive impact on the situation. Time to put Plan....... "A" into action!
First, I called Enterprise. Yes, they pick you up, bring you back to their place, make you sign your life away, then let you drive away a rental car. And they will do a daily and weekly rate, an either/or kind of thing. Just what I needed. And they had all sorts of compact cars I had never heard of. And a hundred fifty miles a day maximum mileage rate saving me $8.00 over the unlimited mileage price. Great, now come pick me up!
I scrambled to pack up my gear, hobbled downstairs one last time with the full pack in tow and my shoe on, barely, with the foot inside saying what the heck are you doing to me? I checked out, saying goodbye to my buddy Darlene, who wished me well and bet me five bucks I'd be back...not good odds for me! She even gave me a full size Yellow Pages to take with me so I could find a doc in a box. Sure enough, about 15 minutes later, my new bestus buddy Josh came tooling up in the fancy smancy Enterprise van to shuttle me back to his place across the street from the enormous Fresno/Yosemite International airport.
It only took about 10 minutes to get to his place, surely a $35.00 taxi ride if I had been so inclined to make the call. Josh got me all fixed up with some Korean export not much bigger than a bicycle. But it was shiny and new and purred like a kitten when I got behind the wheel and turned the ignition. I muddled my way out of the airport complex and back to Highway 168. I had seen this road before, by taxi, by walking under it a couple days ago, and now in the Enterprise Van. I could certainly get back to Shaw Avenue. I saluted the motel as I drove by. Man, it felt great to be mobile again! Why didn't I think of this earlier?
So Darlene had told me to drive to some "fruit" named road and take a left on it off of Shaw Avenue to find the intersecting road I had identified as having an urgent care facility with "walk-in's welcome"! I most definitely was a "walk-in", having walked since late April just to get to the general neighborhood, plus or minus a hundred miles or so. So shortly I found the clinic in a very tasteful neighborhood. I couldn't quite figure out why they had all those bars on the windows and doorways. It was now about noon time and the Frosted Flakes were long gone and despite those tasty antibiotics my appetite was returning with gusto.
Not quite sure what to expect, I hobbled through those doorways with the bars on them and into an old, musty smelling clinic. Looked like something from the 50's, but OK, there were lots of regular looking folks in the waiting room and the staff seemed quite busy doing paperwork and gave me a nice big smile when I walked up to the registration desk. The admitting person was very nice, she took that insurance card and my driver's license right away without any hesitation at all and asked me to give her a little background information about myself. I was flattered! So after I gave her everything she wanted, including the $40.00 co-pay, she told me it would be about an hour before someone with proper credentials could take a look at my foot.
Famished, I asked her if it would be alright if I hobbled out for a little while to get some vittles. She smiled politely, and recommended Taco Bell for fast food and a real Mexican restaurant if I wanted to sit down for a while. Real Mexican food?! Hot Tamale! I was on it like a tick on a dog. I got the big combination platter. It hurt me, but I ate all of it. Sluggishly I hobbled once again back to the rice burner. Drove back the two blocks or so to the doc in a box. They were happy to see me again.
Soon they called me from the waiting room. At first, they put me in Room 2, checked my pulse and my PERFECT blood pressure...yes, it pays to walk for hours upon hours every day up and down mountains! Then, when the nurse saw my foot, she said we would need to move to Room 7 because that was the room they used when they needed to cut someone open. Lovely. This was going better than expected! So she left me there and shortly the doctor hobbled in. Uh oh, this guy is older than my grandpa. Hope his California license is still active and not purchased from the Internet! He told me to lay down on the gurney. Then he turned on this huge watted light, commenting that his vision wasn't so good and he really needed to see my foot in good light before making an incision.
Wait a second! Doesn't he want to hear the whole story, and want to know what the ER doctor said about elevation and rest and soaking and all that stuff that was supposed to make it all better? Nope, he didn't need to hear any of that stuff. He said I had a big old pus pocket and a deep abscess, and it was going to have to be drained and would need to continue to drain for a few days, like at least a week. Oh boy. I couldn't decide if I was more excited about the pending shots and incision or the part about having to drain it for a week.
So the doc sprayed some kind of topical medicine on my foot which supposedly would help deaden the pain when he shot me full of local anesthesia. Didn't work. I nearly came off that gurney three separate times when he stuck that needle in and dug it around to spread the pain killer. From there, I lost touch with what was really going on. I thought he was still putting pain meds in, then the next thing I knew he started commenting on how much pus and blood he had drained and then he told me he was going to pack the opening so it would stay open to drain. I was thinking that this whole scene could have been from a civil war times makeshift hospital and he may as well have amputated the foot and cauterized the remaining stump so I could get on with my day. Soon he wrapped things up....literally, and told me I would need to come back in two days for him to unpack and repack the wound. Then he said we'd need to do it again two days later, and maybe a third time as well.
The light bulb went on immediately! I wasn't going to VVR, I wasn't going back to the trail anytime soon, I was STUCK in Fresno or someplace else that at least had a doc in a box available to see me for the next week or more!
As I drove away with my freshly drained foot and my appointment card in hand for a return visit on Saturday, I smiled and dialed Eric up in Portland and gave him the first hand account of the events of the day. Eric and I agreed it was time to find a plane flight out of Central California. It was time to come up to Portland for a visit and a real home to get some rest and medical attention as well as some family TLC. Eric said he'd get Ashley involved and would see about getting me a flight out of town later this evening or tonight.
Now my thoughts turned to getting over to a Walmart to buy a cheap duffel bag to transport the backpack in and a carry on type bag for other items I might need in case the backpack didn't make it all the way to Portland with me. So I whipped out that bus schedule I had with me which had some nice information about retail locations on the route. Sure enough, I was just a few miles from the Walmart, so I pointed the car in the right direction and shortly pulled into the crowded parking lot. I tried to find a space near the entrance so the hobbling would be minimized. When I entered, the greeter took a look at me from head to toe, noticing my foot which had been wrapped in gauze. I had taken the liberty of putting a sock on it for additional crowd appeal. She pointed at one of those sit down electric carts and told me I couldn't enter the store unless I was in one of those driving it around. Hmmm....that didn't sit well with me at all, so I told her my foot was well wrapped, which was the truth, and that I wasn't going to use one of those things. So then she said that they have broken glass on the floor sometimes and she couldn't let me pass through to go shopping. So I reminded her that a lawsuit from a consumer who was denied under the provisions of the Americans With Disabilities Act wouldn't look so good, and I walked right past her into the store to get my shopping done.
Feeling like security would be breathing down my neck at any moment to escort me out of the Walmart, I scrambled to the shoe department and quickly located a pair of $3.00 sandals. I turned around and saw an open register in the electronics department. I paid cash for the shoes, then put them on and continued shopping, hoping all the while that security would track me down and give me a hassle about the sock covered foot. It didn't happen. But the cell phone rang about that time and Eric was on the other end. He confirmed that I had a 7:00 pm flight to San Francisco and a 10:00 pm flight to Portland. HOWEVER, he then said that there was an earlier 5:20 pm flight to San Francisco and an 8:00 pm flight from there to Portland, and if I hurried, I might be able to make the earlier flights. I looked at my watch. 3:20 pm. Two hours. It was doable!
I scrambled through the Walmart, picking up a cheap laundry bag to put the backpack in and intentionally let go of making any other travel related purchases. I made it to the front of the store and just happened to find a new cashier opening her line so I got through the maze of customers checking out in short order.
Looking like O.J. on crutches, I rushed to the car and shot out to the entrance of the strip center, waiting now impatiently for the light to change. Once back on Shaw Avenue, my favorite road in Fresno, I knew I had to get all the way through town with a zillion lights, so I hoped for a synchronized system that would get me through without lots of delay. While negotiating the lights and traffic through town, I called my buddies at Enterprise and informed them that my plans had changed and I needed to turn the car in. They agreed to get the paperwork ready so I could quickly get in and out and also agreed to drop me off at the airport terminal. Fortunately, the six lane avenue gave me the room I needed to work my way around the slower cars, and the lights cooperated well enough that I was back on Interstate 168 and nearing the airport in a matter of 30 minutes or less.
Back at Enterprise, I dumped my backpack contents in the parking lot and quickly removed all the forbidden items for flight...two lighters and my denatured alcohol for my stove. The rental car manager stood over me and watched as I wrapped the hiking poles and my ice axe in clothing to protect both the pack and the items, then stuffed the rest of my gear in the pack and stuffed the loaded pack into the laundry bag. A few minutes later I was at the terminal...the only terminal...and was the sole person to walk up to the United counter to check in. I checked the one bag, borrowing a Sharpie from the agent to write my name in big letters all over the laundry bag. She told me that both of the earlier flights had plenty of seats available but I would still have to fly standby and would need to check at the gate for seating.
Next was the good old security check. Since the London bombings had just happened, and I was a fully bearded scruffy guy flying with a one way ticket, I knew they would put me through the special drill. And they did. My only carry on item was the Walmart bag with a jacket and my journaling stuff and my wallet. Still, they gave me the special wand treatment and the body frisk and asked me lots of questions as to the purpose for my travel. Convinced I wasn't trying to blow anything or anyone up, they finally let me through to go to my gate....there were only 15 gates in the airport....and of course I had to hobble all the way out to number 15.
Just before boarding time, I checked with the gate attendant for a seat. There were about eight of us flying on this little prop express plane to San Francisco, so I got the seat of my choice. Soon we were off and flying the 50 minutes to San Francisco.
The landing was choppy and the little prop plane was blowing sideways when we landed, but I didn't care, my foot was killing me and I was going to get to Portland in just a few hours.
So I waited almost two hours to catch the 8:00pm flight to Portland and they made me wait again on standby even though the huge aircraft (757) was only about half full. Finally they gave me a seat, again of my choice. I chose a window seat and the gate attendant assured me I was on the correct side of the plane to see the city and Golden Gate bridge as we departed since I've never seen either. So we were all loaded and about to back out when....a passenger came to the front where I was sitting and had a discussion with three flight crew members. Turns out she left her baby's medicine in the luggage underneath and needed to get off the plane. So they reopened the door, let her and the baby out, then closed the door and we started to back out again. Then the plane stopped, the door was opened again, and she and the baby got back on. This was about a 30 minute delay, and I'm convinced they couldn't possibly have gone through all that luggage in the cargo hold to locate the medicine in that amount of time. So we finally took off, and through the marine layer of fog and the waning light of late evening, I saw the city and the bridge. Great stuff!
The rest of the flight was uneventful, except that my friend Nimi who had given me the ride from VVR to Fresno had given me a driving map of California. I was able to get it out and study the landscape below outside the plane and match it to the map. We followed the coastline, and finally I saw a mountain range near the coast with lots of snow on it. I identified it on the map as the Trinity Alps range in northern California....and, how about that....the PCT goes right through them! How neat, knowing that I have more snow to deal with in northern California! That was special.
So I got to Portland around 10:15 pm, and my bald shaven brother was waiting for me. We look like two peas in a pod, me with my Charles Manson look, Eric with his Telly Savalas look. We waited for an eternity for the luggage to pop out on the conveyor belt, and as predicted, my backpack hadn't made it on the second flight and was two hours back. Hmmm. That was a violation of Federal Homeland Security, letting me fly without my luggage on board. Oh well, time to get to Beaverton and we would come back tomorrow to retrieve my backpack. Good thing I had those antibiotics with me in my Walmart carryon bag!
What a day! It was awesome to see the webmaster himself and to get home to see Ashley his beautiful wife and their crazy pooches, Lucy and Maggie, who recognized me immediately and showered me with lots of licks and paws. Soon I was in bed, propping the foot up and letting it drain, just like the doctor ordered.
