chapter 10: part 4

continued from chapter 10: part 3

The proverbial wheels fell off on the day we were to move to our new place. A move at such a time was beyond stressful but we had no choice. It was Saint Patrick’s Day and also marked the day of the last and worst snowstorm of the year, punctuated by freezing rain.

Many friends made themselves available to help but because we were emotionally derailed by Hal’s obvious health complications, they weren’t called.

For several weeks leading up to the move, Hal began getting pains similar to the ones that began this ordeal; we decided together we would try to muddle through this until the move was over. At that time, believe it or not, the move was most important. We had a pretty good idea that he was in trouble but we didn’t mention this to anyone. We were also disastrously sleep deprived.

One thing was certain; the packing was only one- third done by moving day and this was an eleven -room house.. Mike and Lorrie came over the night before and Mike still dines out on the horror story:

"I walked into their bedroom and there were the usual books stacked on the bedside tables, the bed was neatly made, the pictures and ornaments were still on the walls and the drapes were still hanging. I checked their studies and the computers were still hooked up and the books still on the shelves; even the waste baskets were full."

He put in an emergency call to brother Mark and his wife, who planned to come over anyway. They arranged to borrow a small truck and took the kids out of school to help.

We had stayed at Mike and Lorrie’s the night before the move and during the night Hal had a violent attack of pain and vomited a lot. I held him in my arms between bouts until he fell asleep at dawn, when I dressed and headed for the house. Mike heard me and quickly followed. It was snowing heavily.

At the house we packed like something out of a speeded- up silent movie. Mark and Olga and the kids arrived and between them they kept ahead of the energetic movers.

In the meantime Hal phoned to say he felt fine and was on his way over by cab but he didn’t arrive. By this time the phone had been disconnected I trudged through the snow to use a neighbor’s phone. It rang and rang and finally he answered. He had fallen asleep. He was on heavy painkillers and said he would take the subway and streetcar over and I almost popped a fuse. He eventually promised to take a cab and finally breezed in an hour later.

The movers were finally loaded around five o’clock, and a blessed neighbor was fielding phone calls for us so that we knew when the closing was done and we could arrange to get a house key. Hal went ahead with the movers and we stayed behind to do the final cleaning.

I had one of my more ambivalent feelings about morphine that night when we arrived at the house after a frightening trip on the ice-coated highway to find Hal in a cheerful daze and directing heaviest pieces of furniture placement to the wrong rooms, and I knew I would have to sort that one out on my own, later.
We were left with a tunnel arrangement, enabling us to get into the house, swerve left to the kitchen, step over two huge cartons and around the bookcases standing far out from the wall and through to the bathroom and bedroom. Generally that wouldn’t be a problem but in this case I didn’t get it sorted out for two months.

The movers left, the kids took their exhausted bodies home and we fed the cat and picked up our overnight cases and headed for a nearby inn to spend the night. On the way we discussed ordering dinner from room service (it was after ten o’clock) and having a wonderful hot shower.

Our ordeal wasn't over just yet.

continued in chapter 10: part 5