Not the best end to our Vancouver adventure

8 May 2017

Last night we went to bed full of plans for our last day in Vancouver. There were still things we wanted to see, places we wanted to go. This morning though, all those plans changed. All we got to see of Vancouver was the tantalising view of a sunny city from our hotel window.

It began in the early hours of the morning. Commando woke crying out in pain. My immediate groggy thoughts were of all the miles we’ve walked over the last few days and his poor Achilles’ tendon or the tooth abscess he had just before we left England. He’s been religiously taking antibiotics and they seem to have dealt with the tooth problem quite quickly but he took the last pill yesterday, perhaps it had come back with a vengeance. It wasn’t either of those things though.

When he finally gained enough control to speak he told me his left leg was hurting. The muscle in his inner thigh to be exact. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to it but it was so bad he couldn’t move his leg at all. He took some pain killers and tried to relax and go back to sleep but it was useless. While he writhed in agony I went over and over the events of marathon day, trying to think of something that might have caused it. The only thing I could think of was the little trip when we were approaching the totem poles. So much pain for such a little stumble seemed a bit excessive though, especially as he said it had hardly hurt at the time.

The pain didn’t let up so, as soon as it was light, I went across the road to the drug store and bought Tylenol. When I got back I made an ice pack using an empty water bottle, ice from the ice machine in the lobby and a sock. Whether it helped or not I couldn’t really tell. Commando spent the day in bed. I ventured out only to get breakfast from Starbucks, lunch from Tim Hortons and more ice.

The big worry niggling at the back of my brain was how we were going to get to the airport tomorrow, how Commando was going to get on a plane when he could barely walk to the hotel bathroom and what would happen if we made it to Toronto. We have a hire car booked at the airport and a two hour drive to Gravenhurst. I won’t be able to drive because I’m not on the insurance, never mind that it will be an automatic, which I’ve never driven, or that I’m terrified of driving on the wrong side of the road.

In between worrying and watching crap TV, I packed. By late afternoon Commando was feeling a little better and limping about enough to slowly walk a few hundred yards to the local Banana Leaf restaurant to eat. With the help of the Tylenol and my Heath Robinson ice pack we even walked to the bar across the street this evening to have farewell drinks with Jen and Kevin.

Tomorrow is going to be a long and difficult day. I’m more confident now of getting to the airport. Commando says the pain is easing and he thinks he will be able to drive. We shall see…
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