The flight home was fine, really nothing to speak of except that it was over before I really knew it. It never really registered with me while I was looking at the flight time that in just about an hour and a half we could fly from Ottawa to Charlottetown. That's 13+ hours of driving. If it wasn't so stupid expensive, I'd be doing it all the time.
I'm staying in PEI for the long haul, though. That's almost a certainty at this point. It's funny (as in ha ha, though I suppose also in the peculiar sense, from a certain point of view) how it worked out, though. Even this morning, one of the last things Christine said to me as I was getting out of the car was that I could either change my ticket so I didn't have to fly back on Monday and then turn around to come right back again, or I could just get a one-way ticket for next weekend. I said yeah, but that I would ask the ticket agent on my way to the gate about changing it now since I was pretty sure I should be staying anyway. Then I nearly forgot to ask the agent after I dropped off my bag. I was a good fifteen feet away from him when I remembered. Had there been anyone in line behind me I would likely have just left and planned to call Air Canada later, but there was nobody behind me and I decided I'd get this out of the way right now.
So I went back to explain my situation: I originally planned to fly back on Monday but I had a bit of a medical emergency in my family and I'd probably be needing to stay longer. Can I change my ticket? He told me yes, but there's a change fee and I could tell I was venturing into unfamiliar territory with him. He said he thought it was $75 but then he said he thought that if I called up more than 24 hours in advance of when the ticket was supposed to have me flying it would only be $50. Then he said he thought that more than 24 hours notice was half the price of the less than 24 hours notice so we don't know what costs what except that less than a day costs more but either is arrangeable. That's cool. Then he started looking at the file and asked me "when did you say you were flying back?" in that tone of voice that clearly said he was seeing something that made him question my story. I replied truthfully, Monday evening. He confirmed this for me: Monday, September 21st. I said "no, Monday. After the weekend." and that's where he said something that made me question, just for a moment, if he was a bit slow. He said "have you bought your ticket yet?", obviously already convinced the answer was 'no' and I was asking some crazy hypothetical question about changing a ticket I didn't already have.
We had a few minutes like this before I realized what was going on and I said something like "let me check my itinerary", opened my backpack where I had printed it out the night before, and saw that, yes indeed, the return ticket Christine had bought me for "Monday" was for a Monday that wouldn't occur for another four weeks in the future. I laughed, told the agent that clearly my wife had different plans for me than I thought and that I'd take it up with her now. He seemed a little confused by the whole turn of events but was happy enough to see me go.
After I passed through security I hopped on the internet and turned it into a game with her, forwarding her the itinerary that she had sent me earlier in the week with only a suggestion that there was something wrong and she should try to figure out what. Then I started goofing around on Facebook for a while, exchanging nonsense wall posts with Tracey and MarkH.
Gregory and Zita were already waiting for me when the plane arrived and on the ride back from the airport he told me everything that had been going on. He and Zita had mostly finished with the packing at Mom's place, they'd left the bed set up there in case I wanted to stay there (I did at first but now I think that would be an extremely bad idea) and they left Mom's computer out (which I expect I'll make use of to post this tomorrow). He also told me about the video link they planned to set up between Mom's hospital and either the hospital near Trisha's place or the one where she works. They'd hoped to have that today (or Trisha had hoped to have it today) but it'll probably be tomorrow. He's also managed to sell some of Mom's furniture so I don't have to worry about it and he insists on giving me the money even though both Mom and I think he should keep it since he's done so much work for us. Anyway, there's that and he also had some good suggestions for me on how we can get Mom's stuff back without needing the storage unit.
Once again I'm so glad for Gregory's help that I don't think I'll ever be able to thank him properly.
I spent most of the afternoon with Mom. We talked for a bit then some of her friends dropped by to visit, Doris Murphy first, then some other women who's names I forget -- I'll try to get them tomorrow -- and around 6:00pm I left to get something to eat. I had some cards for Steve so I called them and Brenda invited me over to dinner since they were about to put some steaks on the bar-b-que and Steve's parents, sister and her new baby were coming. I took her up on the offer and probably stayed there until about 8:00pm when I went back to the hospital and met Norma on the way out.
I had missed a call from Trisha while I was driving so I called her back when I got there and Mom and her got to talk for a bit, but by now Mom was seeming pretty tired and I only stayed for another hour and a half or so. Talking to Trisha, though, I found out she's got the same questions for Monica that I have, though being a nurse her's are better formed and more to-the-point. Mine are "what can we do" and "isn't there some way we can try giving her food through IV" while hers are more "why aren't you giving her X" where X is something I've completely forgotten. I need to write this stuff down. Anyway, tomorrow morning I'm going to be waiting for Monica when she comes in to check on Mom and I'm going to be looking for answers of some kind.
After I left the hospital I came here, to Dad's. He's still not dealing well with it, though it's in his own way. He's all about conspiracy theories and blaming Monica for not finding it sooner and how the story doesn't seem right to him because he knows people that have lived for decades after they've had cancer so why is this one so bad? He still isn't at a place where he can think about what's happening right now and how we go forward. At least I recognize it, though, and I can deal with his inability to deal. I forget the stages of grief so I don't know if he's further along than me, I think 'anger' is before 'denial' and 'bargaining', which seems to be the two I'm bouncing between these days, I think I skipped right over 'anger' but who knows, maybe I'm just taking a different path.
Anyway, that's about all I've got for right now. There's more, but I'm exhausted and I'm going to have a lot more to write up tomorrow anyway, so I'll wrap it here.
Oh, yeah, the title. Tide's out. As I was walking across the utterly silent, mostly empty parking lot of the hospital on my way to the car tonight I could smell the harbour. Tide's out, I thought, looking up at the sky and breathing in the smell I disliked so much as a kid, the one Mom always used to say made her just sick. It's the one I'm now associating with long summer nights spent at the Lobster Carnival with my best friend, Yancy, visiting my Aunt Stella who passed earlier this year, and playing with my cousins from Ontario when they would come to the Island on summer vacations. Love that smell.
I honestly thought I booked your return ticket for Monday August 24. I can't say that I am sorry for my mistake though.
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