You know how I kept talking about how I wasn't looking forward to this trip? And then I would try to convince myself that I was just full of it and I would really end up having the best time ever?

Yeah. I probably should have gone with my gut on that one.

Okay, I won't lie. There were good parts of the vacation. And let's face it, any time you don't have to go into work for a week (and a day!), you're pretty much guaranteed to have at least a moment of happiness. But was it the greatest vacation that ever was? Not even close.

In a nutshell: I had a panic attack on Saturday and ended up having to start my meds early. Yeah, I know. Who the hell can pull off a panic attack in Vegas? Apparently, I can. I'm talented, what can I say. The unfortunate part to this is that I then became a zombie for the next couple days. All I wanted to do was sleep. And because I was so numbed down at first, I couldn't even care much that that's all I wanted to do. Like, I could logically go "Wow, I'm on vacation in Vegas and all I want is a nap." But emotionally, it was like "Eh...whatever." Luckily, my body adjusted and things got a bit better over the rest of the trip.

And truth be told, it was probably a good thing that I went through this while I was off work. I can't imagine working a ten-hour shift having felt the way I did. I wouldn't have made it. So yeah, it's likely for the best....but it does sort of feel dumb to answer the question "What did you do on your vacation in Las Vegas?" with "Oh....I slept a lot."

I wasn't the only one who ended up in distress of some kind during the week. My mom managed to tear the tendons in her leg. She has a tendency to have problems with her feet, ankles, etc., so she hung around the hotel for a day or two, thinking if she rested up, she'd feel better. Well, she woke up on Thursday and couldn't walk at all. So she called the in-hotel doctor and he diagnosed her. She ended up having to use a cane and wheelchair for the rest of the trip. She's still supposed to be using the cane, but now that she's at home, she's trying to suffice by hopping around awkwardly.

Also on Thursday, we got the call that my grandmother had had a massive stroke. Actually, this all started on Saturday night, when we got a call telling us that she was being admitted to the hospital for suspected pneumonia. She turned out to have bronchitis, but that was the start of a downhill slide. We don't know for sure when she had this stroke, but by the time my sister and I got back on Sunday (over a week later), she was pretty bad. She was awake and alert, but she didn't recognize anybody. Not even my uncle, and if you know my grandmother, you know that that is highly unlikely as my uncle is the golden child. She wouldn't really talk to anybody - every now and then, she'd make a comment of some kind ("It's cold in here", "My feet hurt") but it was with no recognition of who she was talking to and it was gone within a few seconds. And her left side is completely useless.

Now, my mom claims that she was better tonight, that she seemed to know my mom and was more aware of her surroundings. But at the same time, my mom is acting like everything is still pretty bad, so a part of me thinks she might be taking it as the calm before the storm. I don't know if she thinks it's that last rally that people tend to do before they let go or what. So at some point, I need to go down and see her. I'm really dreading that. It was bad enough to see my great-uncle before he died. And yeah, there's that part of me that thinks "She's not even going to know who I am, more than likely. Why put myself through that if she won't even recognize me?" I'd be more okay with doing it if I knew it would bring some comfort to her, but I honestly don't believe that it will. I think, if anything, it will just confuse her. You know - here's someone else who seems to know me, but I can't for the life of me remember who they are. I know it would confuse and frustrate me if I were in that position. But nobody else in my family seems to understand that, particularly my mother, so she's pissy with me for having not gone yet. I suppose I'll have to do it at some point.

Anyway, I got a little off-track there. Back to Vegas. Needless to say, with all of this other stuff going on, it was hard to have a truly good time. But hey, at least I caught up on my sleep. That may not seem like a big deal, but honestly, it was so nice to be able to relax and just SLEEP. Even if I knew that I should be out having more fun. I did a lot of shopping. I did some gambling (but for the first year in a few, I didn't win anything - damn it). I hung out by the pool (and Scott, I know you don't get that, but seriously, it's relaxing). And it was fun to be able to travel with and share a room with my sister.

Let's see, what else. Oh, the flight from hell, I suppose I should mention that. The flight(s) out there weren't too bad. My plan of staying up most of the night before (thanks, Scott) worked out for the most part, and I was able to sleep through a lot of it. It still kind of sucked, but not as bad as usual. The flights back.....well, the flight from Vegas to Chicago wasn't totally terrible. I got no sleep, but I did a lot of reading and the time went by....slowly but not completely unbearably. Then came a three-hour layover in Chicago, which yeah, kinda sucked a bit, but again, not as terrible as I expected. Then there was the flight home.

Oh, god. First off, it was one of those smaller planes, which automatically makes me feel claustrophobic and panicky. I hate planes anyway, but the little ones are just horrible. I'm always relieved that I only have to spend about 30-45 minutes on them. Then, the other passengers get on. The woman on the other side of my sister was quite clearly drunk. She sat there and muttered to herself the entire flight, then nearly got into a brawl with my sister as we were disembarking. (Actually, that part was kinda entertaining). Then, the guy in front of us decided to sing for the entire flight. No, I'm not kidding. He would just randomly break into song. It was insane.

You think that was all? Oh, no, that's just the beginning.

We had some kind of delay getting off the ground. I'm still not sure what the issue was - and the staff had no interest in explaining it to us - but we sat on the tarmac for ages. Finally, we taxi up the runway and set off. You would think that's the end of it, but no. Our pilot was apparently a little worried about the time, so he decided to go Top Gun on us. You know how pilots normally ease into turns or direction changes? The plane will slowly ease towards the left or right....you know the deal. Well, that wasn't the case on this flight. The pilot did the equivalent of the driver who goes "Oh, shit, I was supposed to turn THERE!" and yanks the wheel. It was terrifying. Jan and I literally held hands and exchanged the proverbial "We're going to fucking DIE!" look. If you need any further indication.....we made it into Kalamazoo only five minutes behind schedule even though we had sat on the Chicago tarmac for much longer than five minutes. Yeah. It was like that.

However, it was all made slightly worthwhile by our stewardess. (Flight attendant? Somebody throw some political correctness at me). This woman was, no joke, scary as hell. It's hard to explain her. To the naked eye, she seemed fine. Cheery, bright. Friendly, even. But we knew better. You know how mothers have that way of scolding you in public? They're smiling and sweet and if anyone else looked at them, they'd think "Aww, she's happy." But if you're on the receiving end, you are painfully aware of the underlying threat. The clenched teeth behind the smile, the hissed "When we get home...", the look in the eyes that suggests that yes, it is indeed your time to die. That was our stewardess.

Seriously, she literally walked down the aisle and checked us for electronic devices, after telling us "And now I'm going to walk down the aisle and check to make sure nobody has electronic devices out." I was immediately back in second grade, staring at my desk and hoping to god nobody sets Mrs. Taylor off today. Please, god!

And that was how it was the entire flight. (The entire scary, blood-pressure-skyrocketing flight). My sister and I found this incredibly hilarious. We were, you could say, those kids that are snickering behind the teacher's back and are most likely going to get caught and kept in for recess. (Or in our case, booted from the plane while hovering over Lake Michigan). She was just that frightening. I'm pretty sure my mother would have loved her.

Anyway. So that was a not-so-condensed version of our trip. It had its moments, but more or less, it turned out the way I expected, which was full of drama and unnecessary bullshit. However, my mom is already talking about next year's vacation. I'm still not sure how I feel about that. All of my feelings about being the odd man out sort of came true on this trip. I'll be honest with you - I was kind of lonely. And considering next year, my mom has already invited Kasey and Leanne to come along....I'm already guaranteed to be the third wheel. So unless I can get someone to go with me (you know who you are), I'm starting to seriously think about skipping out. Or at least only going for a few days instead of the full week. It will disappoint the hell out of my mother, but I hate to spend all that money if I'm not going to have the best time possible.

Sooo....I guess that's all I have to say. Yeah, I know. I suck at wrapping things up. At least some things haven't changed.