Baywatch, Broken Bones, & Thanksgiving

It’s good to be typing again~!

I’ve been away for a while, and when I explain why, you will get a glimpse into the uniqueness of island life.

Four weeks ago, my girls and I were coming back from town, and we all unloaded out of the boat and onto the float.  There’s a ramp connecting the float to the pier, and I corralled my two toddlers up the ramp, and followed them with the baby in the stroller.  Then, I raised the ramp up off the float a few feet out of habit.  In hindsight, that was not really necessary or helpful.

In the madness of groceries, toddlers, and trying to open a gate, I lost my grip on the stroller.  Down the ramp it rolled, with the baby, towards the water.

*Insert panicked heart attack here*

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This is a camper boat. Ours are much smaller. But this is how you unload and get into camp.   The winch on the A-frame raises the ramp off the float to account for changing tides.

 

Although I would like to claim a heroic moment, I’m fairly certain I just tripped and caught the stroller.  In doing so, I snapped my collarbone.

Martin, one of the camp’s employees, called for Baywatch as I sat in silent-ish excruciating pain.  We have no road access at our camp, so all transportation is by boat.

The Baywatch guys were awesome, and very carefully walked me down the ramp, onto the float, and into their boat.  After a ten-minute ride down the coast, they helped me back off the boat, onto another float, up another ramp, and into an ambulance.

I’ll spare you the narrative about x-rays, but eventually we confirmed that things were broken and maybe torn, and I needed to get back home to rest.

So… we called Shane, another camp employee, to come pick us up in his golf cart.

This may be a good time to explain that there are no real vehicles on the island.  There’s a few buses and Jeeps, but pretty much everyone drives a golf cart or super-tiny smart car.  It’s kind of adorable when you first experience it.

Catalina-Island-golf-carts
Thanks, The Society of Honor

Anyway, I was now pumped full of morphine, and we began the journey back to camp first in a golf cart, then down a ramp, onto a float, and into a boat. Up the coast, onto our float, up the ramp, down the pier, into another golf cart, up the canyon, and finally back to my living room.

My mother-in-law flew out for a few weeks, and then my mom came and took over.  During this time, all three of my kids got the flu.  At one point, I had to take my oldest in to the hospital, and we repeated the whole trip to and from town, minus Baywatch and the ambulance.

That same week, my husband experienced the death of a loved one, so he flew home.

This also happened to be the week of Thanksgiving.  We spent all day cooking, playing cards, and doing puzzles in the camp dining hall.  Then, we finished the celebrations off with hot dogs and s’mores on the beach.  It was a great intermission from the chaos of reality.

Now, I’m travelling once a week by boat from the camp to town, then by ferry to L.A., then by car to an orthopedic surgeon.  After an x-ray and a, “looks good, see you next week,” I do the whole thing backwards.

Needless to say, I have become intimately acquainted with emergency medicine on a desert island.

Besides the injuries and illnesses, it was an overall great experience.  But, sadly, it made blogging physically and mentally impossible until about three hours ago.

People always ask how we would handle a medical emergency out here, and now I can answer their questions with lots of detail.

Overall, this has been the most interesting and exhausting holiday season to date.  And we just entered December.

Did anyone else have an eventful Thanksgiving?

*Featured photo courtesy of NBC Los Angeles

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