We arrived in Vail yesterday afternoon, and during the course of the next couple of hours, the rest of the family trickled in. It was so fun once everyone arrived; we all just looked at one another with these giddy expressions of glee. After all, we’d all made it safely through the snowy, icy drive (which had begun around Salina, Kansas) and were basically looking at a week of skiing, mountain air, and no agricultural-related activities.
Before we headed out to dinner, my mother-in-law, her sister Diane, and I headed down to the lounge area to try to find a pretzel or two to nibble on. I was starving and was nursing a very slight headache, so just a small, immediate bite to eat, I figured, was all I needed. But then my two companions decided to order bloody marys and I accidentally shared half of my mother-in-law’s. It tasted spicy and tangy and wonderful. During the course of our time in the lounge, I also borrowed two ibuprofen from Aunt Diane, who had a little pill box in her purse, and within about twenty minutes, my headache was totally gone. I conveniently decided that the bloody mary had done the trick, and that something about spicy tomato juice mixed with vodka had proved to be an elixir for my minor ills.
Soon after this, the family came downstairs and we all went to the village to grab a quick bite to eat. I ordered another bloody mary since the last one had tasted so good (and been so effective), but since I’d already had half of my mother-in-law’s, I only wound up drinking about half of this one. I didn’t want to overdo it, and besides that, the lettuce wraps I’d ordered for dinner took every bit of my attention. They were spicy and delicious and gave me a new reason to live. So did my mother-in-law’s french fries, which I shared with her.
I love sitting next to my mother-in-law! She eats and drinks like a bird, and I get the rest.
Toward the end of dinner, I started feeling really tired. I’d gotten up at 1:45 that morning, after all, and had hardly slept in the car due to the fact that I felt I had to watch the roads and be a backseat driver for Marlboro Man, which I know he appreciated. It had all finally caught up with me, the long day I’d just had, and I was glad we were heading back to our condo for the night. But then Missy reminded me that she and I had made plans to run to Safeway to get groceries for the week. We needed bottled water, granola bars, and basic food staples to get us through, and I needed coffee and Noosa yogurt, which I’ve been thinking about since we left Colorado last year. It is evil and it must be destroyed.
So we went to Safeway, Missy and me. And on the way there, I began to feel even more tired. “Man,” I exclaimed to Missy. “Are you as tired as I am?” I felt like I could recline my seat and go right to sleep. Missy said something like, “Oh, I’m a little tired, but not bad,” which made me feel like even more of a loser. But I had grocery shopping to do, so Missy and I went into Safeway, grabbed our own carts, and took off in separate directions to get foodstuffs for our respective families. We could never share a cart, after all. Tim drinks Pepsi and Marlboro Man drinks Dr Pepper. It would never work.
Ten minutes later, I was in the bottled water aisle loading up when I was hit with the most mind-numbing fatigue I’ve ever experienced. My legs felt weak, my eyes were half mast, and I thought for a minute that I was going to have to call Missy on my cell phone and ask her to come over from whatever aisle she was in and carry me for the rest of my journey. Either that or I was going to have to clear out a section of one of the water shelves and curl up for a nap. I had no idea what was going on. I mean, I remember being tired in the mountains last year. But I didn’t remember being struck with the overwhelming urge to sack out in Safeway. I trudged on, taking a side trip to the Starbucks store on the premises and asking them to hit me with the strongest coffee drink they could possibly make. It’s only because of that Starbucks beverage that I was able to make it through the check-out process in one piece. All the while, I kept trying to get Missy to admit that she, too, was this tired. That it wasn’t just me. That I wasn’t the only wimp in our group. But she seemed fine. Energetic and alive and fine. I, on the other hand, was resting my head on the cart and drooling on the floor as my groceries were being checked out. Maybe that bloody mary hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
I got back to the condo and splayed out on the couch, muttering things to the beloved husband of my youth like “I’m gonna diiiiiiiie” and “You’re gonna have to carry me to beddddddd” and “I shouldn’t have had that bloody mary” and “Uuuuuuuggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh…” I felt completely charming and attractive. I also felt a little bit of a headache coming back on, too, so I asked one of my daughters if she wouldn’t mind knocking on Aunt Diane’s door and asking to borrow another Advil or Tylenol or anything in that category. Instead of the ibuprofen, though, my daughter came back with a small assortment of pills from Aunt Diane’s pill container: the little white ibuprofen like the ones I’d taken, a couple of Aleve, and—mysteriously—some bright aqua Advil gel caps. “Aunt Diane wasn’t sure what kind you’d want,” my daughter said. “So she just sent a few different ones.”
I looked at the aqua Advil gel caps and thought “Funny. That’s not the ibuprofen I took earlier.” So I picked up one of the pills like the one I had taken earlier. Nowhere on the caplet did it say anything remotely resembling “Advil” or “Ibuprofen.” Instead, it had a alpha-numeric code etched on the surface. That’s when I started wondering. I grabbed my phone, pulled up the browser, and googled the code from the tiny white pill. Then it all became crystal clear.
It wasn’t ibuprofen that I’d taken in the lounge with my mother-in-law’s bloody mary. It was a very strong, very effective over-the-counter generic cold and allergy medication.
This had been compounded by the bloody marys I’d consumed.
And the fact that I’d gotten up at 1:45 that morning.
And the fact that I do not suffer from seasonal allergies and never, ever take allergy medication because the one time I ever did, I passed out on my friend’s mother’s lap.
I just wanted to let you know how our ski vacation is coming along!
Love,
Pioneer Woman