Day 3, in a panic

June 14, 2012

Oklahoma City isn't eventful, other than the room we first got smelled really bad.  Chris was able to switch us, so we were more comfortable, but this hotel isn't the best.  Cassie and I finally figure that Chris isn't getting around in the morning because we are there. We decide our new routine is to get ready first and then go out to get our first starbucks of the day while he has the room to himself.  This seems to work better, but we still don't leave very early.  We wonder why the road we take to starbucks is called Tinker Diagonal, when we know it is the I-40.  We realize why as we drive right by Tinker AFB!   On the road, we see a sign that says Chekota, and I have to play Carrie Underwood's song "I Ain't In Chekota Anymore."

Not long after we get into AK, we have a scare on the road.  There is a black pickup truck in front of us and we are boxed in by semi's behind and beside us.  The truck we are following blows a tire and starts swerving radically.  The rubber flies at us, and Cassie is quick to react, dodging even with the trailer in pull.  It is a miracle none of the debris hits us.  The driver of the truck is desperately trying to keep from veering into other lanes, and keep it on the road.  It swerves parallel to the lane we are in, and I am terrified it is going to roll and come right at us.  The driver corrects quickly, and then it is facing us for a split second before he is able to steer it to the shoulder.  Once out of the lane, the truck is off-balance because of a steep grade in the median and the vehicle looks as if it gently rolls to its side and then on the roof and finally comes to a complete stop upside down.  Cassie quickly pulls over, and we are the closest ones to him.  This all happened going about 70 mph, in the space of a couple of minutes.  I know I have to try and help, I don't see anyone else closer.  I jump out of the car and run in my flip flops back to the truck, it seems like it takes me forever to reach him.  Just as I get there, two truckers join me who had pulled over behind us.  The driver of the pickup is climbing out of the window, which is facing the sky.  Two men help him out, and we don't see any blood or scratches.  I ask if he hit his head, he says he doesn't think so.  More men show up, and I figure he is good hands and we need to get as many cars off the road as possible.  I run back and get in the car.  Chris has pulled over in the truck, but on the opposite side of the freeway and can't cross.  We sit there a moment, clutching hands, hearts pounding as Cassie starts to cry.  I tell her what an amazing job she did, keeping us out of the debris, that her quick reactions saved us from a disaster.  We get back on the road in a few minuets.  We don't say much, just trying to process and urgently thanking God for His protection and safety.

We don't go far before we see Cody is retching.  We knew one of the dogs had thrown up on the dog bed in the back of Chris' truck, and so we had put them into the car with us after a rest stop in OK.  We thought it was just the heat, but right now he isn't looking good at all.  We have to pull over off the freeway at a sign that says Ozark, 2 miles.  He walks back and forth, trying to throw up but has nothing in his stomach.  He won't drink water, and that is worrying us.  We remember he hasn't wanted water the last time we tried to give him some either.  His legs are shaking, his head seems too heavy for him to hold up.  Chris and I decide we have to find a vet.  We are fortunate to be where we are, there is a vet not far from there in Ozark.  Dr. Moom is a country vet, so very nice and sweet.  He's trying to get Cody's attention, but the dog is lethargic and non-responsive even when he tries thumping him on the head.  Cody can't seem to stand.  I am terrified he will die right there in the office.  I think for a fleeting moment that I can't do this.  I can't sit here and watch the life drain out of him, it's too much.  I want to run away, and for them to fix him right now, but I swallow down the impulse to flee and wait for a course of action.  They discover he is running a fever, and we tell Dr. Moon we haven't seen him poop in a couple of days.  After a thorough examination, Dr. Moon guesses that Cody has an infection in his spleen.  There is an enlargement there, and with the fever, he suspected Cody had it before we left Phoenix.  They give him a shot to reduce the fever and reduce pain.  We are given steroids for him to take, along with antibiotics and a stool softner if we don't see him pooping soon.  Within just a few minutes of the shot, Cody perks up and starts pacing the room.  We are all encouraged by this. Dr. Moon is very busy today, so we are led back out into the waiting room. Cassie is waiting with Soo, and her face is stricken.  We find out that a man has brought his aging Pomeranian companion in to be put to sleep.  The man is a stoic farmer, sitting in the chairs by himself trying to hold back tears.  Cassie is not so successful, and as Dr. Moon tries to comfort the man, her tears are falling.  We have to wait a few moments to pay, during which time a family brings in their older dog, wheezing and coughing and struggling to breathe.  We can't take any more, we need to get out fast and let Dr. Moon tend his patients.  We find peanut butter in the car and give Cody his first dose of meds in the parking lot.  We lift a drowzy Cody into the car, and pray that he gets better fast. 

Drugged Cody!

He clings to Soo for comfort, and keeps trying to practically lay on top of her.  She is patient, but she doesn't look to happy either.  She hasn't been eating well, and we know she hates car rides.  We get back on the road again, all of us exhausted.  Our next pit stop is Little Rock.  We are so relieved to make it and hope we can relax and get some rest after such an emotional, scary day.