This is the week-end many on St. Croix have been waiting for for months. Pointe Dance Academy is putting on its production of the Nutcracker Suite Ballet. It’s always a beautiful show and this year for the first time in a long time, my daughter will grace the stage with her presence. She’s a fabulous dancer who makes it look like such an effortless and natural thing to be doing. Even though we have seen the callouses on her feet and her black toenail. Dancing on pointe is not for the faint of heart.

The first time I watched the show without her in it, I cried. I cry when she’s in it, too, so she’s damned if she does and if she doesn’t perform in it. But the production is always so well done, so professional.

The women who have run the school for 14+ years are sisters and were once Las Vegas showgirls. They are top-notch teachers of the Cecchetti method and have become Polestar Certified Pilates instructors as well. We are missing Heidi this year, as she is in England with her husband, Terry. Terry, who has also performed many times in the Nutcracker, has been diagnosed with cancer and will be treated in his native country. We wish them both the best.

Sonja has been going crazy without her sister, but has pulled the show together magnificently, with help from Hildegard and Nicole and many of the dancers’ mothers. Michael and I will be running the bar for all three performances like we did last year. We shopped on Friday for sodas, snacks, and adult beverages to keep everyone energized bofore, during and after each show. This year we have asked Amanda and Carsten to help us, along with Chris and John who have been involved for years.

One night down, two to go……

Poor Michael. He has been so very supportive of me this year. I cannot believe how sick I’ve been over the course of the year. It’s really strange, because I’ve always been so healthy. And Monday I felt better than I had in years.

I spent Tuesday night in the hospital, though. I’d had to cancel my afternoon appointment with one of my favorite clients. I actually thought I was having a heart attack. After lunch on Tuesday (lunch consisted of a big bowl of organic oatmeal, a little bit of organic chocolate and some coffee), I started feeling strange. I’d gone to work in the morning and had felt a little “off”, but attributed it to the fact that the coffee I drank in the morning had a little caffeine in it, and we usually drink organic decaf. But Tuesday afternoon, the anxiety of the morning intensified and I started getting a tightness in my chest. It felt like heartburn. I’d felt like this occasionally in the past, but it had never been this severe.

I started thinking about what the say about women and heart attacks and I didn’t want to be another statistic. I had been lying down to try to nap a bit before my appointment when Michael called. He thought I’d be out doing errands and wanted to see if the answering machine message could be heard through his speakerphone option on his cell phone. He was waiting for his 2pm massage client and decided to check on this, since he’s been having problems with his phone not ringing.

I got up after his call, thinking that moving around might help me feel better. It didn’t. I was feeling light-headed and my arms were tingling. I wanted to call someone to ask for help, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask anyone. I called my client to tell her I wasn’t feeling well enough to drive over there. I couldn’t ask for help. I’m too young to be having a heart attack. I’d just eaten oatmeal - good for the heart. I called Heike to maybe ask for help. I had a message for her anyway about a potential job. I told her I was feeling lousy. She said that this flu-like thing was going around and I probably needed to drink more water and rest.

I felt so awful. I didn’t know what to do. Call 911? Then I’d have to move all the dogs. Michael was in session. I called and left a voicemail message. I looked at the clock. It would be another 20 minutes until he was done. Then he had another one lined up. I didn’t think I could make it. 10 minutes later I called Heike back to see if she could come. She said she would. I called Michael back to tell him. Then he called and I said Heike was coming, but wouldn’t be here for another 30 minutes or so and I needed to get to the hospital soon. He said he’d come right away. I called Heike again and told her he was on his way. She said she’d come anyway, and I told her we would be at the hospital by the time she could get here.

I got some stuff together to keep myself warm in the hospital and waited, feeling not a bit better as time went on. Michael arrived we started toward the hospital. We got stuck in Hovensa traffic. The refinery was changing shifts. Our horn doesn’t work. My hands were going completely numb and spasming. They were stuck in a strange position like I was having a stroke or something. Michael wanted to call the ER to let them know we were on our way. We have a small phone book in the car, but my hands weren’t working right. I got one of them to pick up the book and painstakingly turn some pages. I finally found the ER number. Michael called and when we arrived, we went right in. A nurse hooked me up to the EKG machine. She was cussing it out, calling the machine “this stupid thing” (not very comforting). I guess the stupid thing told her my heart was okay. Then I had to vomit. I made a lot of noise. I usually puke pretty quietly, but for some reason had to really work at this and noise had to come out, too. I wished they’d give me something to help get this stuff out of my body. Ipecac or something.

They made me drink some chalky stuff to calm my digestive system. It was awful. They decided to send me in for x-rays. They put me in a wheelchair that didn’t have any foot rests. It was weird being pushed around with my legs sticking out because there was nothing to rest them on. I started laughing and the nurse asked me what I was laughing at. I told her I felt pretty goofy and didn’t she think it was comical? She’d told me that most of the wheelchairs didn’t have foot rests. They’d just gotten a bunch of new ones, but the footrests always disappear. Strange.

The x-rays showed nothing blocking my intestines. I got back to the ER with Michael and hurled some more. The pain was not really being relieved. For hours the pain remained. They took blood and hooked me up to an IV. I was thirsty and they wouldn’t give me any water. I was screaming from the pain. Trying to move in contorted positions to help alleviate it. They weren’t doing anything to stop the pain. Poor Michael had to sit helplessly watching me writhe and cry in pain. It came in waves. I started thinking that my body was going into a false labor since it was the day that I was supposed to give birth to our baby.

I felt bad for everyone. I could imagine being in another room in the ER hearing these awful noises coming out of ours. But I couldn’t help it. Finally, much much later, they got the results of the blood tests, but the pharmacy was closed and they’d have to wait until morning to give me what I needed.They gave me some drugs to help me relax and then finally morphine to put me out. Michael was finally able, after 10 pm to go home and have some dinner. The doctor said the blood test indicated a phosphorus deficiency, which is highly unusual, since phosphorus is in everything we eat. I still don’t get it. Food poisoning? I ate what everyone else ate the night before at Diane’s. Oatmeal and poisonous chocolate? Whatever…..

I slept soundly until nurse Nancy came in to take my vitals at 4 am. I felt so much better. She came back at 6 am and had me go to the bathroom. Then she had me call Michael to tell him I felt better and would probably be able to go home soon. He got to the hospital around 8:30. The doctor had just been by and said he’d be back to discharge me after he saw someone in ICU. Cool! I’d be out soon. I’d get back home and get cleaned up in time to bring Meredith to the airport at 11am. The doctor said he’d rather I just rest for the day. I said, “okay”, not at all meaning it.

The doctor didn’t get back to me until just after I sent Michael out to get Meredith. It was 11:20. I was a basket case. He and the nurses were saying, “I bet you’re in a hurry to get out of here.” I said, “Not any more, my ride just left and I don’t know when he’ll be back”. I was sooo pissed. I was comfortable on the hospital bed and now I’d have to go out into the waiting room for who knew how long. A little after noon, Michael came back for me. He had gotten Meredith safely to the airport in time. We went to Plaza for some appropriate foods for me to eat. Potassium-rich foods…to help with my phosphorus levels???Whatever.

I fell asleep at 8 last night and only got up once to go to the bathroom before 7 am. Now I feel like I got hit by a truck. Still light-headed but my torso is sore from the exertion of throwing up and I’m really bloated for some reason. I feel like the Pillsbury dough boy again. Any day now it would be nice to get back to normal health and stay that way.

(Note from Michael: Sorry, I didn’t have my camera with me, so no graphic pics of Terry heaving into little blue plastic bags, or wheeling around on a footrest-less wheelchair with her legs sticking out You’ll have to use your imagination)

There was more rain throughout the night, but we awoke to a clear, sunlit sky with a stunning view of Petit Byahaut’s private cove. It was a little early for breakfast, so we unpacked our things and hung our wet clothes from the wild ride on the water taxi. We wandered around the nicely landscaped grounds for bit before heading to the restaurant to look for coffee. There was none ready as of yet. It would come with breakfast. The property does not have regular electricity. There are solar panels and hot water heaters on all the cabins. The panels charge a twelve-volt battery which runs lights, ceiling fans and water pumps.

Breakfast View

Regular coffee makers use a lot of juice and would not work on this system, so they heat water in a tea kettle and use a French press for coffee. Keith brought us each a plate of fresh local fruit: mango, pineapple, sugar apple, guava and banana. Then there was orange juice, coffee, toast, scrambled eggs and bacon. Michael ate my bacon, since I didn’t want it. No butter came with the toast, so I went into the kitchen to ask for some. I noticed a few “Sun frost” refrigerators along the wall and commented that I had had one of those at my home on St. Croix at one time.
Keith said, “You’re from St. Croix?” I said that yes, I was. And he said, “I’m from St. Croix!” His parents were both from St. Vincent, but went to STX to work. He was born there and returned to St. Vincent about ten years ago, to work. He cut me a couple of slices of Kerry gold butter for my toast and later came out to talk to us about people he knew on St. Croix and the places he used to hang out. One of the places was a pub where my daughter used to work. Small world!

Our “Lookout” Cottage

After breakfast, we went back up to change into beachwear. We noticed a couple of paths near our cabin and took one which led us to a ridge on the north side of our cove. The trail was overgrown in places, muddy or rocky or grassy in others. The views were a lovely different perspective on the hillside and the little bay. We could see another little beach just beyond the point in the direction we were heading, but there were some thick, prickly-looking bushes that we’d have needed to go through, so we turned back. We’d kayak to the other beach at a later time. The path went past our cabin to the southeast and into the thicker forest. We saw other living areas, bathing areas and water storage tanks before we headed back to the lookout for snorkeling gear.

There’s a different feeling when you’re snorkeling in water where the bottom is dark sand. The visibility was great until we got close to the south wall where it was also shaded by the cliff and a bit murky. We decided to cross over to the other side where the north wall was in the sun. On the way, we saw a gurnard. It’s a really cool-looking fish with wings that spread out and have purple highlights on the edges. The wall of the cove and the sea bottom was alive with colorful hard and soft coral formations, and sponges galore. Lots of trumpet fish, sergeant majors, gray chromis and tang. Damsel fish, squirrel fish and banded butterflies. I started getting cold and told Michael I had to go in, but he should stay out and play with his new underwater camera. He decided to come in with me, and on the way, we saw the cutest little crab, busily searching for food in the sand. When I dove down to show Michael, he buried himself completely in the sand. He was so fast! He had lots of little “hands” and picked at a piece of seaweed he encountered, feeling all around it for something good. It reminded me of a description I’d heard of one of my favorite people, so I named it “the Meredith crab”. It was so darned cute!

We swam in and it was time for lunch. We ate chicken pasta with a tomato cream sauce, olives, peppers, onions and garlic. I had them open a bottle of Santa Rita Sauvignon Blanc for me from which I would consume a glass with lunch over the course of the next few days.

The only other guests at Petit Byahaut were Jim and Debbie from Ohio. They told us about the lizards that would join us for meals. According to them, the last time they were here (this was their 5th visit), the lizards were pretty skittish. But this time they were quite bold and would sit and wait for food. One of them actually climbed onto Michael’s plate and then his hand when he went to move it off the plate! They would also jump onto our legs or feet to try to nab a mosquito or gnat. Nice of them, but startling if you’re not expecting it.

There was plenty of activity in our quiet little cove today. A dive boat came in and moored by the north wall. The water taxi “Vision” came in bearing many propane tanks for the kitchen to use for cooking our meals. It also carried other insulated containers, perhaps with ice for our cocktails. Kimba, the driver and his associate had plenty of heavy stuff to haul in. But they made it look easy and I started to not feel so bad about my high-maintenance request for my sunglasses the night before.

Then a couple of small fishing boats arrived with a large net that they dragged between the boats to catch what we assumed were bait fish, since there was nothing big enough to eat in here. They pulled in quite a few and used a snorkeler to find the schools of fish and untangle the net if it got caught on rocks or coral. Shortly thereafter, a Moorings charter sailboat motored in a picked up a mooring ball.

After lunch we asked Keith about using a kayak to go over to “the Bat Cave”. He and Michael took a double off the rack and Keith brought us paddles and a small anchor so we could get close to the cave.

The Bat Cave

What an awesome ride that was! The dark, dramatic cliffs plunging into the cobalt blue sea kept me repeating my new mantra, “This is SO cool!” We saw a few caves and figured out which one was the actual bat cave that you can snorkel into. We kayaked around the point, since Jim and Debbie told us there was a mooring on the other side of it.

Pirate Cove

There, in front of us was the little fishing village where we were dropped off by Robert the night before. As we rounded the corner a bit more, our eyes were met by a hideous monstrosity. Someone is developing Buccament Bay, and they’re doing a lousy job. The buildings are so ugly and intrusive, they reminded us of dozens of McDonalds’ jammed together right there. This is where Michelle and Sid used to have their restaurant, but the government made them sell it so these “monopoly houses” could be built. What a waste!

We started back so we could snorkel into the bat cave and dropped anchor. We donned our gear and jumped into the sea. The bottom was rocky and there were many sea urchins, but it was pretty deep until we got close to the cave entrance where there were large boulders and the swells pushed and pulled. Michael got close to the entrance, but I chickened out. It looked really small and tight and I wasn’t familiar with it, so I wasn’t risking it. He came right back out, too, not wanting to be swept into the rocks by the swells. We could see the bats flying past the entrance and hear their high-pitched shrieks. But I wasn’t getting any closer to that small entrance to an unfamiliar cave. On the way back to Petit Byahaut, we stopped frequently so Michael could take pictures. He got a great shot of an osprey taking off from the cliff above our heads.

Osprey

Dinner was a fabulous appetizer of stuffed ballyhoo, breaded and fried, and served with a spicy-sweet citrus dipping sauce. Keith gave us a choice for our main course: Rosemary infused Cornish Game Hen, or Curried Seafood. He strongly suggested that we try one of each, so we did. I was not enamored by the rubbery, tentacled squid in the seafood dish, but the tiny shrimp and chunks of fish were nicely spiced. And the hen was moist and flavorful. Dessert was a dark chocolate-stuffed banana cake with white chocolate cream cheese icing. Delicious and decadent, but too much for me after such a hearty meal and I couldn’t finish it. Michael started nodding off at the table, so we got our water pitcher filled and climbed up to our comfortable perch, where we fell fast asleep.