I have always loved a good road trip. Even as a young guy, I loved our family vacations where we would get up early in the morning and begin the long journey to Florida. I would prepare weeks ahead of time preparing my trip kit filled with games, candy, and drawing supplies.
Even now I cant help but still enjoy those endless hours on the road stopping off at various locales like the worlds largest rocking chair or the BIG statue of Superman in Metropolis, Illinois. While many might use the interstates to get from point A to point B, I use them as a way of seeing all of the great Americana and history that this nation offers.
A few years ago I was accepted into an NEH institute in Pittsburg and decided to use the experience as an excuse for a history nerds road trip dream come true. I meticulously planned out my itinerary and even decided to stay in hostels so that I could commune with other travelers. I planned on visiting Charleston, South Carolina, Colonial Williamsburg, Philadelphia, and even planned on having a Civil Wargasm where I would visit every Civil War related site I could find.
With my Paul doll(historical action figure) by my side I set off one early June morning with the plan of getting to Charleston and visiting Fort Sumter in the late afternoon. With my Ipod blasting my favorite Dolly Parton tunes and my car getting great mileage, I was filled with a great sense of excitement and gratitude. Needing some gas and a little snack I pulled over in Georgia.
I stretched my legs a bit and consumed some sketchy yogurt from the local gas station before setting off again. Within the hour my stomach began to groan and I started to feel the early warning signs of food poisoning. I quietly cursed Yoplait but continued on towards Charleston. Each passing mile confirmed the fact that I was descending into a hellish state of sickness.
By the time I reached Charleston I was sweating profusely and my stomach had turned itself into painful knots. I was still determined to make it to Fort Sumter to see where the Civil War got started and boarded the ferry. Surely the Civil War soldiers had experienced far worse than a tummy ache so I simply soldiered on. Despite the fact that I felt like the war had declared itself in my abdomen, I still enjoyed the experience and tried to make the best of it.
Now I am not one to really throw up when sick, but I still know the telling signs that it was going to happen. I stood among other tourists looking at a plaque when all of a sudden my mouth began to water like the alien from the Alien movies and my stomach began that lurching movement. Before I could warn anyone, I exploded in a deluge of 12 hour old food. I sort of felt like Moses parting the Red Sea, because as I heaved, the dozen or so tourists jumped back to escape getting splashed. I continued my heaving and screaming for another minute before a nice guide from the National Parks Service took me to the bathroom to get cleaned up. As I walked back past the scene of my stomach crime and saw that it had been roped off, I thought to myself that Fort Sumter had experienced war and huricanes, but I had managed to close it down with one bad yogurt.
Back on dry land, I continued to grow more and more sick and decided to not subject the hostel to my illness so I found a hotel. Actually, it would have been better to have just rented out a bathroom for the evening since I spent a majority of the night clinging to the toilet bowl.
The next morning I continued on to Virginia and found a cheap place to stay in Williamsburg. Despite the fact that I was so sick, I still held on to the hope that I could still experience my itinerary. I kept thinking that I just needed a good nights rest. By about 4 in the morning I knew that my plans were shot and that I would have to get medical attention, but I wanted to at least make it to Pittsburgh before I did so.
Somewhere in Pennsylvania I stopped for gas and was in so much pain that it took me five minutes to get out of my car and another five to get back in. I vowed that it was either run out of gas and call 911 or make it to Pittsburgh. Luckily I made it to Pittsburgh and found the first hospital that would accept my insurance. I hobbled in the emergency room and simply uttered the words "help" before just sitting down at the nurses booth.
After a quick examination, the doctors looked at me grimly and asked how long I had been driving. After telling them that I had been on the road for two days in that condition, the doctors informed me that I had a ruptured appendix and not food poisoning. Within minutes I was in the operating room having the sad bits of my appendix removed. The doctors told me later that it was a miracle that I had survived.
Throughout the entire experience I tried to convince myself that it would just pass. I guess the one good thing that did come out of it was I got to experience the 4th of July from a hospital bed with a morphine drip. Not quite the fireworks I was hoping for, but man the wicked dreams about them more than made up for it.
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