So our evening on the beautiful Riverwalk in San Antonio served one purpose — to remind me how much I love my wife! It also reminded me how wonderful she is to me, especially as I struggle with this affliction of a busted spinal cord.
We arrived in the Alamo City, toured around a bit, and experienced the joy of San Antonio traffic all in the span of an hour. As we exited I-37 heading for the Alamo (trying to make it before this shrine to Texas liberty closed for the evening) we immediately noticed that something was off. The ramp was backed up for a half-mile. So we went to the next exit. Same deal. Mrs. Harvey dropped us off in front of the Alamo and vowed to drive around the block. Let’s just say that 45 minutes later she had made it a few hundred yards. Turns out that the Texas Music Educator’s Convention was in town. Band kids were everywhere. I imagined there would be lots of nerdy relations taking place that evening.
Oh well, we saw the Alamo (I’d seen it many times but Matt had not and he’s a big history buff). We checked into our hotel and head out to dinner. The Riverwalk is an amazing place and truly one of my favorite places on earth. But for some reason, this time I just wasn’t feeling it. It was packed. My leg had been bothering me very much. Anticipating an evening drink or two, I had stopped taking my pain meds earlier in the day. And herein lies the problem (I think). You see, I have read that this particular painkiller has some powerful withdrawal symptoms. I had not experienced any of these before. Then again, I haven’t really taken this one in many years. After a grueling walk up and down flights of stairs and navigating through throngs of tourists and waiting at a bar for an hour for our table (all on my feet with the use of my cane) I finally sat down only to feel the onset of a horrible headache.
When my food finally arrived I knew something was wrong. I took one bite, lifted the fork to my lips, and promptly set it back down on the plate. I just wasn’t feeling it. By the time everyone else had finished their meals, my wife, looking on me with pity, inquired if I was feeling OK. She reached over to feel my forehead. “Let me get you back to the hotel,” she said. I felt awful at ruining everyone’s night but I knew she was right. We got up and started back on our way. The night air had started to chill…
By the time we made the three block trek, I was in full blown “ready to hurl” mode. I made it to the room before all hell broke loose. I don’t remember much else other than crawling into the most uncomfortable bed and sleeping the next ten hours. I think my wife headed back out for another drink with our friends as well she should have. There was nothing that could be done for me. But in my mind she kept vigil by my side all night long, taking my temperature and dosing me with painkillers and anti-nausea drugs while singing sweet lullabies to calm my jittered body. Either way, I know that she loves me and I cannot imagine being sick with anybody else.