Trailers and Hills Don't Mix

So finally everyone was feeling fine and well rested after a night of camping nearby the hospital. We were excited to get to Bellingham located just south of the Canadian border. I had researched some real estate and had some listings written down for us to drive by. The drive in was gorgeous with a narrow road with a forested cliff immediately to our right with a 2-inch shoulder and then the Sound to our left with breath taking views.

An upscale neighborhood with craftsman style homes overlooked the water, all ascending along the hillside. Yards were uniquely landscaped and well kept. We were diggin’ it. We looked crazy driving our camper all over their stylish neighborhood. Our van and camper had not seen a wash or a speck of rain since the Midwest, some 1,700 miles ago and we had every bug from Minnesota on west all it.

Some homes were for sale and Sean would jump out and grab a flyer. I am sure the neighbors that saw us were praying, “Oh no! Please, no please, do not buy this house!”
Sean had not cut his hair in a long time nor shaved. I wasn’t any better.

We took a drive down to the marina but it had a lot of industry. Not the place for strolling. I mapped out the properties I had found and we took a drive to see the areas. The first four we saw had too much inconsistency of pride of ownership. If we were to sell in the future, we could face the danger of having the nicest house on the block. In real estate, that is not a good thing. So, we had one last property to look at but it was high on the hillside.

The drive was rather straightforward and it led to a neighborhood less congested with nice views. The voice prompt on our GPS said to make a right turn with our destination 500ft on the right. Sean slowed to take the right but the road ahead looked as if it were a dead end with no turnaround for towing a camper. He drove to the next right hand turn as our road was now ending and was not a turn around. This road was a gradual incline for about 400ft but then made a very steep incline the rest of the way. It was narrow and no homes bordered it.

Now, I have to make a note to all of you that Sean is excellent at driving through small roads, busy towns and scenic narrow roads with no shoulder. He is not, and he agrees, that backing up a trailer is something he is good at. He avoids it if he can.

So avoid he did, and within a split second of thinking it through, he drove up that road that made its steady and ever increasing ascent. Careful not to harm the engine, he climbed the road slowly. The wheels started to slip. They skipped and skidded. I looked back at the children. Their eyes huge with fright. Sean slipped it into first gear. The van tugged upward through the wooded road. A car was parked at the top of the hill. The road ended with little clearance. A deep ditch followed each side.

I looked over to our left and saw a grassy road that was closed with a metal gate. There was no place to turn around and it was impossible to drive in reverse all the distance Sean brought us. The road was just too steep and the ditches posed too much of a danger.

We were stuck and I knew I was going to have to drive us out of there.

The Peanut Incident

There are times, when as a parent, one has to respond in ways during a crisis that puts aside anger and fear. I punched in “Hospitals Near Here” on the GPS and Sean drove following its verbal prompts. I went to the back of the van and sat by Liam.

His breathing was wheezing and short. His stomach was trying to breath for him and it caved in and pushed out with every breath. He was white and the blue ring around his mouth became very dark. We had about ten miles to the hospital. Too far. Liam’s allergy to peanuts is so severe he could die from a heart failure by that time.

“How are ya doing, Liam?” I asked quietly.
“Not so good,” he quietly responded, his voice strained.
I watched him for a few more seconds then went up to Sean, “We need to give him the shot. The Epi-Pen is in the camper in the medicine cabinet. You need to pull over.”

We were on the shoulder of Interstate 5. I had never given the shot myself. I practiced on my leg with the dummy pen out of sight from Liam. Sean held Liam on his lap and held his arms and wept into his back. He kept apologizing to him over and over. I whispered into Sean’s ear to hold him tight and gave a calm smile to Liam, “I am going to give you some medicine to help you breathe, ok?”

He didn’t know it was going to be a shot. If he did, he would kick. He had to stay still for me. I held the pen in my hand and removed the cap. He watched with puzzlement. “Click” went the pen and it shot into his leg. He screamed with pain and he looked at me with the face of “why?”

Sean wept. We held Liam and watched to see how he reacted. In a minute he began to breathe with more ease and we continued on to the hospital. Within ten minutes, Liam’s skin had broken out in hives. Even his eyes were swollen with hives. We arrived at the emergency entrance and I brought him in to the nurse, “Peanut allergy. I just gave him the Epi-Pen.”
“Right this way,” she escorted us immediately in. No one wastes time with peanut allergies.

Liam’s breathing seemed stable at the moment, but his skin was like an elephant’s. The nurse was to administer an IV. No chance. Liam fought and wouldn’t hold still. No matter what we said, we couldn’t get him to cooperate. The doctor came in and stood in front of Liam. He was a thin man around 60 years of age with white hair. He stood silently with his finger to his temple, thinking and watching. I asked if there was any other way to give Liam the medication. I was fearful that if they got the IV in, that Liam would yank it out.

The doctor sympathized and reluctantly gave him the medication via mouth. Liam seemed to be stable but then suddenly within a few seconds had great difficulty breathing again. The nurse came in quickly and gave him another shot in the arm. Liam sobbed and I held his hand. He asked me in a small voice, “Am I dying?” I couldn’t hold back my tears. I held him to my chest so he couldn’t see my face.
“No, honey. You are not dying. Your body just really doesn’t like peanuts, that’s all. We just need to calm your body down and then you’ll be okay.”

His breathing was restored after a few minutes and I stayed in bed with him rubbing his body that itched so terribly from the hives. I knew Sean was worried in the waiting room. I knew he was feeling terrible, too. Liam wouldn’t let me leave his side so I asked the nurse to forward an update to my husband.

I sang songs and held him for hours. His hives started to disappear and he became elated to see his skin heal. He wanted to leave. You always know how sick a child is when they ask to see a doctor and when they ask to leave. He started sitting up and getting antsy. He was hungry and the nurse fed him Jello and ice cream. A perfect dinner.

He was finally discharged and the family greeted him with happy shouts of, “LIAM!!!!” They all hugged him and told him how much he was missed. Sean held him and felt his son strong and breathing again.

For all of you reading this, for the safety of children with peanut allergies, please do not feed the squirrels or any animal peanuts. They carry those nuts into other yards and children often find them and touch/ingest them. A child can die quickly from this type of allergy. It is becoming a common allergy and the reasons are unknown. No one in either side of our family has this allergy, yet two of our sons have it. So, please, keep a safe yard.

Wayside Hell

We arrived Camas, Washington, our final destination. The past seven years of our beloved home and endless sweat equity was now to be exchanged for the moment. Our excitement went from an explosion to a weak fizzle.

We had researched this area via the Internet and based this choice upon schools, demographics and housing costs. A friend of Sean’s from the airlines happened to live in the area and spoke well of Camas. We drove through an old town of small buildings and paper mill. We continued through and found new residential areas with many shopping malls and parking lots. The area was all nicely plotted with sidewalks and landscaping. The homes were often clones of themselves with small lots. Some were more grand but still with small lots. It was crowded.

Sean let out a big sigh. More like a sound of a deflating balloon. All the life was out of him. I shared the feeling and looked out the window as we drove around looking for something that would assure us that we had sold our house and everything in it, drove 3,400 miles in exchange for something incredible; nothing called out to us.

“What do you think?” I finally asked.
“I don’t know…”
“I’m not feeling it.” I admitted bluntly.
“Neither am I.”
“What do you want to do?”
No answer.
Anther deflated sigh came from him.

We ate at Burgerville. That put the nail in the coffin. We were out of there and traveled across the Columbia River to Portland for the night. We stayed at a hotel and the kids were elated to be swimming again. We didn’t know where to go from there the next morning. I didn’t even have any suggestions.

Sean got on the phone and called a few of his local friends for some guidance. We got a list of suggestions and mapped them out. The first was Aberdeen, near the coast, Hwy 101, south of the Olympic National Mountains.

A quick stop in Olympia for breakfast at Denny’s Restaurant started us out on the right foot. People there were at a modest pace and friendly. They appeared conscientious of each other and polite. They were talkative and well traveled. A look of good health was about them and I was intrigued of their lifestyles.

We purchased some groceries at Top Foods, a high-end grocery store of local and organic produce, gourmet meats, wines and bookstore. I teased I would move here just for the store. Sean was quite impressed with the place too. There were many trees and the roads meandered through hills with views of the Olympic Mountains, the State Capitol overlooking the southern tip of Puget Sound, and on a clear day, views of Mount Rainer. This was nice but we were on a mission to find a place to live and we had a list of recommended cities and Olympia was not on it.

We headed west on Hwy 101 to Aberdeen, just south of the Olympic National Forest peninsula, a city recommended. A quick drive through, we knew it was a no go. Too much industry. We drove north on Hwy 101 along the coast and camped at rustic campsites with gigantic driftwood along the shores. Impressive and somewhat eerie, the weather was very cool and misty. We wore jackets and winter hats while we hiked.

To Port Angeles, another recommended town and then onward to Port Townsend, we enjoyed the visits but nothing felt like home. A ferry across to Whidbey Island with the van and camper brought us on the eastern side of Puget Sound, north of Seattle. There we saw some of the most impressive coastline of Deception Pass. This area was very intriguing to explore but not perhaps the best place for us to settle.

Onward to La Connor and to Bellingham. Liam had to go to the bathroom so Sean pulled over to a rest stop. I suggested that Liam go to the camper instead of using the public bathroom – it is faster and cleaner. Sean took him into the rest stop instead, wanting to see the local information and maps posted on the boards for travelers.

After a few minutes I could see Sean walking quickly back to us holding Liam’s hand with a serious look on his face. Liam was crying. Sobbing.

The van door opened up and Sean put Liam in the van and said urgently, “We’ve got to get him to a hospital immediately.”
“Why?” I asked.
“He just ate a peanut cookie,” he replied.
“How did that happen?” I was puzzled.
“I gave it to him. It looked like a sugar cookie with a chocolate kiss in the middle.”
“Those always have peanut butter in them. Remember? You gave one of those to Fionn at your aunts Christmas party and he threw it up all over you,” I said impatiently and growing more angry by the second.
“I don’t remember that,” he replied as he drove looking for a hospital.

“Jesus…” I whispered to myself.

Liam’s face was white and a blue ring was becoming visible around his mouth. He was in serious danger.

Alas! Camas, Washington!

For you that know what my husband and I have gone through with the total remodeling of the house with small children running amuk, seven years of sacrafice from our active, outdoor lifestyle, and a housing market that has left most sellers drained dry of all resources, know that this move west was to fulfill our goals and our dreams for our children.

Camas Washington was waiting, and now only a two-day drive away. I was anxious. I didn't want to site see anymore. I wanted to quick get an apartment, figure out what school our kids would go to, get set up and start living like a normal person with an address and a home telephone number. I wanted a kitchen. I wanted to get a Realtor right away and start looking at properties.

We followed along the Columbia River Gorge along the Washington side. It started out rather dull, but soon became a gorgeous drive. Sheer cliffs were on our right with the Gorge meandering along on our left below. Some tunnels were carved through the mountains and we were small enough to pass through them. We saw wind surfers and kite boarders enjoying the strong winds accumulated through the fetch of water. They looked like they were reaching speeds of near 45mph.

We reached Camas in the evening. Sean's friend, Dan, was away on a trip and he had our other van parked in his driveway that we had shipped from Connecticut. Sean called him on the cell to let him know we arrived. A short conversation between the two of them ended in a referral to a local Burgersville Restaurant nearby. We drove around town to get a feel of the town, and then we drove on the Vancouver side of town to get a feel of what that had to offer.

After about three hours and a dinner at Burgersville, I turned to Sean, "I'm not into it. I just don't feel us here..." I did not know how to tell him that I did not like it there. He sat silently staring ahead in the driver's seat. He let out a sigh. After a long moment he replied, "No, I don't see us here either."

So we sat there in the van and didn't know what to do. We just looked around and our kids were totally confused as why we were not getting out of the van to claim a place to live. After all, they had been waiting for three weeks to get here, and they were told this was the destination.

That night we crossed the Columbia River over to Portland and stayed a night at a hotel. It was late and we were hoping our minds would somehow have an answer in the morning.

The kids swam in the pool without a care in the world. They laughed and played as kids should. Sean and I, had heavy hearts and our mood was somewhat dark. The next morning was a little better when we realized we were starting to laugh at the situation. Imagine selling your perfect home with all your precious memories and selling everything you have, drive 3,400 miles and then go, "OOPS!"

Aw, WTF! Let's keep driving!