Packing My Hick Suitcase

I have real luggage, really I do. But for a quick road trip, nothing beats the Walmart plastic bag.

MaryAnn and daughter Ashley have been on a recycling/reusing theme for the past week, and I am feeling quite smug, as I've been using those ubiquitous plastic bags for hauling around clothes, toiletries, lunch and dog supplies ever since they were invented.

I once checked into the LAX Hilton with my 5-year high-school reunion frock and cosmetic supplies, snacks and (many) bottles of libations all stuffed into a 30-gallon black plastic garbage bag, slung over my shoulder. I clanked a bit as I strode to the elevator, but I wasn't planning on ever being there again, so why not? I paid for the room, I should be able to bring whatever luggage I please, right?

So, lunch and snacks in one bag, a bag of dog supplies (water bowl, food bowl, ziplock of kibble, pouch of treats, nosey halter, short leash, long leash, yard tie-out, bunny, baby and birdie toys, car harness--Heavens-to-Betsy, I think I have more accouterments for the dog than I ever did for myself or my kids!), a bag of clothes and overnight toiletries, a bag-o-medical documents (new lab reports, list of drugs and supplements I'm currently taking, phone list, doctor list, list of questions to ask, clipboard, blank notepaper, book to read while cooling my heels in multiple waiting rooms). Is there any room left for woman and dog in this car? To my fellow highway travelers, I probably look like I'm just headed home from grocery shopping at the local W-M, instead of on a cross-country tour of Appalachia.

I woke up this morning laughing at myself. This will be my 9th round trip to Charlottesville, VA in six months, and that's really not so bad. But ask yourself this: If you were given a diagnosis of cancer, what would be your first thought? Would it be, "Gee, let me find a good specialist close to home?" or would you be completely idiotic like Bill & I were and say, "Great! Let's drive 300 miles each way for our appointments, so we can be forced to buy a new car as soon as we're done paying for all the medical expenses! Well, we really didn't say that, of course. But the Law of Unintended Consequences applies, and that may well be the eventual result of our foolishness.

I like my doctor at UVA. I love seeing my friends, Mark & Jo & Kona & Paco, when I have to go to C'Ville. But with gas more than $3 a gallon, and 82K on the car, I'm beginning to think that the caution about not making important decisions when you're facing a life-threatening illness is no lie. We were in a panic and we were doofusses.

I'm glad I went to UVA--they caught the multiple cancers, took care of it all at once, thus saving me going through this trauma all over again with sequential diagnoses, and they did an OK job of taking care of me through the initial stages. But now, I kind of wish they would just move their facility about 300 miles closer to me instead of me having to haul my car full of Walmart bags up I-81 yet again.

Once again, old war movies come to mind: "How do I get a transfer out of this *blankety-blank* outfit?"