The ship will go there -- is, in fact, there -- here as I type this. But overnight I spent a dismaying amount of time barfing into the gleaming white toilet bowl in my cabin after tossing and turning trying to convince myself that I didn't feel nauseous. The seas were relatively calm, so I don't think it was seasickness.
The medical center nurse who returned my call said it's probably not norovirus, since that requires diarrhea as well as nausea. I will go down there when they open in half an hour or so and get what information they have on recovery from nausea. But I still feel woozy. And they just announced that getting ashore will be challenging -- high swells and having to move from bouncing tender to floating dock surface (just writing that makes the nausea return).
So I won't be joining the excursion I signed up for. We'll be here all day, and I will be able to go ashore later if I feel better. But right now, chances don't look good.
And now chances look nil. I went to the medical center and they gently confined me to my cabin for the next 24 hours, assuming the nausea doesn't recur. As it turns out, I can see several moai from my cabin window, which does you, my readers, no good, but is a considerable comfort to me.
And for the first time in my life, I am drinking Gatorade. It was the medical aide's concession to my objections to plain water. I have sailed 11,626 miles to drink Gatorade instead of looking up at Polynesian status symbols. Oh well, at least I will get my money back for the excursion I am forbidden to take.
Feel better soon. Hopefully this will pass as quickly as it appeared.
ReplyDeleteOh I'm so sorry about this. Thankfully the ancient ones saw fit to place a few moi near where cruise ships dock.
ReplyDeleteToo bad :-( That is so disappointing. Must be some kind of message from the Island gods that you will only understand later (if at all.) I will leave it to your imagination and headline-writing proclivity to think of some possibilities.
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