Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Rehearsal By the Sea, Dinner Fun and Why is There No Medical Care in West Maui?

Friday evening was the wedding rehearsal. We all assembled on a small cliff behind the Ritz-Carlton Kapalua to watch as Tim and Clarisa and their attendants as they prepared for the next day's wedding. I can't say enough about what a wonderful couple they are. Tim was a pilot for Independence Air and Clarisa was a flight attendant when they met. Their attendants included Tim's best friend Ben, his Marine buddy Ryan, Clarisa's beautiful sister Katrina (herself a newlywed), GB Riley's dad Adam, and Clarisa's hysterical friend Laura, among others.

Dear Daughter and I enjoyed the view and meeting Clarisa's family and friends. DD also amused herself by playing with the mynah birds that populate the island. After watching them walk--with their fat bodies perched on long yellow legs, she christened them "waddly birds!" and shouted joyfully while running after them on the clifftop behind the wedding site.

The rehearsal took a brief time, and we all repaired to the Pineapple Grill for cocktails preceding the rehearsal dinner. By this time, it was 6 p.m. Hawaiian time, and 11 p.m. CST. This means DD was only three hours late in taking medication for a chronic illness. Couple that with a day in the sun and the lingering after-effects of a 12-hour plane journey, and she was really starting to feel rotten. By the time dinner was half over, she was too sick to continue, so she and I returned to our condo while the Loved One remained to visit with his sons and family.

The beauty of isolated communities such as Kapalua is they're not overrun with Wal-Marts, Targets, Krogers and Walgreens. The terrifying thing about isolated communities such as Kapalua is that when it's 8 p.m. and your child is hallucinating from exhaustion, dehydration and a headache, there is no minor-emergency care and nowhere to even find over-the-counter remedies that might help.

It was under these conditions I bundled my now-incoherently-babbling child into the car and set off into the dark Maui night (with a mai tai and a glass of wine under my belt, no less) in search of help. The only store in Kapalua closed as I drove up and refused to open. The next town, Napili, had an all-night nail salon, but no medical care. Near-frantic, I struck out for Lahaina. By this time, her eyes were glassy, she was shivering despite the warmth in the car and a sarong wrapped around her and she was talking absolute nonsense. When the first round of puking hit and we were 4000 miles from anything I knew as helpful and safe, I called 911.

We managed to make it to a strip mall parking lot so the paramedics could find us. Turns out DD was dehydrated. They offered to start an IV drip, but that would have required a 40 mile ambulance ride to the nearest hospital and then being sent home in the middle of the night. Our logical option was to take her home and rehydrate her there. By this time, the Loved One had caught up with us in a borrowed car and found some OTC medicines she could take for her headache. We got her home and plied her with juice and water and Tylenol until she was ready to sleep.

Note to self: the next time we travel, pack our own minor medical stuff and find out where help is before we need it.

There are a lot of photos to attach with this post. Not all will have identifying information, but all of them are reminders that despite the chaos, it really was a beautiful evening, and set the stage for the delightful events of the coming day. Click on each photo to enlarge for a better view.


Louis said...

Sounds like a less than ideal way to start your island adventure. I'm glad DD eventually shook off the heat and caught the orchids.

I've heard that there are parts of the Hawaiian islands that are close to uninhabited. Sounds great until a pineapple falls on your noggin.

What, no surfing photos?

Redblur63 said...

Thanks for dropping by. We're getting to the part of the vacation that involved surfing (Honolulu and Waikiki). I just had so many photos of Maui that I'm working up through the story in installments, rather like Dickens (only not so erudite). But Dear Daughter did make quite a stab at body-surfing. She'd swim out about 70 feet into the ocean and then ride the waves into shore on her face. She was so brave.