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Subject:
From:
"Kyle E. Cleveland" <[log in to unmask]>
Reply To:
St. John's University Cerebral Palsy List
Date:
Tue, 3 Aug 1999 09:40:47 -0400
Content-Type:
text/plain
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Hey y'all!

Had a pretty neat weekend w/Laura that I'd like to share.  Seems she was
getting overwhelmed on the home front with the kidletts and what-not and
said that she really needed some alone, one-on-one time with me to scope out
our options re: chemo, child care during treatment, etc.  I told her that
I'd make all the arrangements for a Saturday night out: kids @ Grandma's,
reservations at a nice restaurant, hotel, etc.  I called her at home Friday
and she said that she was concerned about cost.  What to do?

Well, when I was in Dallas for a conference a couple months back I had some
issues with the hotel (Adam's Mark).  When I got back to Ohio I sent the
chain's CEO a letter outlining my difficulties.  About six weeks later I
received a "fluff" letter of apology, but nothing was offered to compensate
for my experiences.  So, I stuffed the letter in the "remind me not to stay
there anymore file" and forgot about the whole thing.  Laura, however,
remembered the incident and phoned the chain's Grand Poobah directly (I
still don't know how she managed that).    I guess they had quite a chatty
conversation and Laura related what was going on and he said, "Yeah, I've
got three little ones myself and sometimes you just have to get away.  How
'bout if I make arrangements for you and your husband to stay at our
Columbus, Ohio facility Saturday night--on us?"  Of course, this was just
the arrangement Laura had in mind to begin with, so she told me the big
surprise Friday when I got home from work.

Neither of us were prepared for what happened next:  When we arrived at the
hotel Saturday evening we were escorted to the top floor and given keys to
their Presidential Suite!  To say these digs were opulent would be to call
the Pope a Catholic.  How can I describe it?  Two wide-screen TVs, stocked
wet bar, leather furniture softer than any baby's behind, crystal
chandeliers, probably more than 1500 square feet of floor space, plus room
service, on the hotel, to boot!  Mercenary sort that I am, I sneeked a peak
at the room rate behind the door and discovered that the Standard Rate was
$1050/night.  Suffice to say that plans for "scoping out options" sort of
flew out the 21st floor window (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).

Sunday, I picked the kids up at Grandma's and brought them back downtown so
they could see where Mom & Dad spent the night.  Alas, after an hour or so
of bed trampolining, big-screen Blues Clues and general running amok, it was
time to go an Anna (6) begged to carry "a suitcase" downstairs to the car.
I put her in charge of the meds/toiletries bag.  Big mistake.  While we
waited for the valet to retrieve our car from the parking garage, Anna and
her mom visited the gift shop.  Mother and daughter left the hotel with Dad,
but, unfortunately, Dad's meds stayed behind.

When we got home, a quick unpacking revealed the loss of the goods, but we
were quite relieved when we phoned the hotel and discovered the bag had been
found and would be held for us at the front desk.  We live quite a ways from
town, so I did some quick calculations on the half-lives of the
anti-spasmodics, etc., and found that since I dosed myself rather late that
morning, I could squeak by until the next morning and pick up the goods on
the way in to work (the hotel is just six blocks from my office).  Imagine
my HORROR when no one at the front-desk had any idea what I was talking
about!  Cutting to the chase, the hotel cop, noticing that some of the meds
had a street value, took it upon himself to take the bag home and bring it
back the next day when he came to work AT 3 PM!!!  I finally got to the
hotel at four, took the pills in the lobby and spent a rather "stiff"
evening last night.

Moral of the story:  don't let a six-year-old be your drug mule.

Anyway, thanks to all for the kind notes and words of encouragement.
Laura's and my spirits have certainly been lifted by your concern.

P.S.  Linn, thanks for the "driver's test".  What a hoot!

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