Month: June 2019

Prince of Wales Island (called by most locals by the initialism simply “P.O.W.”) has exactly one emergency room, as far as I can figure out. It’s in the clinic at Klawock – it’s not really a full blown ER, the staff is on call (meaning they drive there and meet the ambulance or whoever wants to go there, rather than sitting around inside the ER on shifts).

Yesterday Arthur went to the ER. He is experiencing severe, debilitating vertigo, leading to uncontrolled nausea and inability to even walk. My paranoid, hypochondrical side wants to believe that this is related to his brain injury from last year, but medical personnel can’t point to cause-effect, and will only say, “it’s possible.” Meanwhile, it’s simply labelled “benign positional vertigo,” where the word “benign” doesn’t mean what you want it to mean, because really it seems to be medical slang for “we can’t find the cause.” It’s hardly benign. It’s utterly debilitating.

We spent about 4 hours at the ER. He got fluids via IV (replace lost to vomiting). He got some medications. Hours later, it’s not clear they’re that useful to control the underlying vertigo, but at least they seem to prevent the vomiting.

You know you’re in a rural Southeast Alaska ER because the view out the doors (where I spent a lot of time standing and pacing and feeling useless) includes a shipping container and a lot of trees.

Arthur and I took the boat to the boat doctor today. Meaning, it’s at the mechanic. We’ve had some troubling engine symptoms, and so this is what it’s come to. Hopefully the boat shop will make it right.
I experienced a great deal of anxiety over this adventure, prior to it happening. It involved both Arthur and I being competent, which is questionable, for each of us, for our separate reasons. Arthur has experience hauling his boat out of the water, and has done it many times, and is generally competent at such things anyway. But he had his head injury last summer, and he’s often forgetful or absent-minded, in ways that can be quite worrisome. Meanwhile, I haven’t got that forgetfulness problem, but I have never hauled any boat out of any water anywhere, ever. So we had a case of “the blind leading the deaf.”
Arthur took the boat into town, alone. Here is a picture of him departing the dock.

I drove the truck into town with the boat trailer attached. We arrived at the Craig municipal boat ramp, at the north edge of town, at about the same time, waited our turn (it’s a busy place) and then backed the truck with trailer down to the water, pulled the boat onto the trailer, strapped it down, and drove up off the ramp. Here we are, checking the tie-downs.

Then we drove into town and parked the trailer with boat at the boat doctor.

In the end, it was a successful venture. Arthur was very tired, however. He pushed himself at his current limit for longer than he really had it in himself.