March 3: I’m sitting in Tom’s hospital room in St. Thomas, waiting to see whether he’ll have a stent inserted today to alleviate kidney pain caused by a stone blocking his ureter. Or maybe the doctor will choose to send him home, since his pain hasn't come back today. Yesterday, between the visit to the doctor’s office and his finally being admitted to the hospital, he was in excruciating pain, and even oxycodone didn't help.

This episode started when we were in Leinster Bay, St. John, a couple days ago. The pain started around 5:30 am; when I got up an hour later Tom said he didn't feel well. When he began to feel worse we decided to get over to St. Thomas, and by 2:30 we arrived at our favorite (because Seaborne flights land right next to it) mooring in Frenchtown. I was on the helm as we motored from Leinster to Charlotte Amalie, and as I approached the mooring a seaplane was landing, heading right for me! I made a sharp 180° turn, but the plane had already hit the brakes and stopped short of us, so once my heart started beating again I continued to the mooring.

After only a two-hour wait at the hospital we saw a wonderful doctor, and a CT scan confirmed stones. She sent us home, with instructions to see Dr. Franklin, the urologist, the next morning. And now here we are, waiting for the next step.

March 8: I’m riding the Amtrak Downeaster train from Boston to Brunswick, Maine. Say what? Yes, we're not in St. Thomas anymore, Toto. The doctor didn't put the stent in on Thursday, and that alone is a long story that Tom doesn't think I need to write about (hint: if you need important medical care, go home). Tom went to surgery about 3:00 pm on Friday; the “7-minute stent procedure” was done; Tom woke up over two hours later, and remembers the doctor telling him that it was done, the stone was impacted so it's still there, and he’d be traveling the next week, so call the office for an appointment in two weeks; Tom was discharged. Three hours later we were back at the emergency room with a complication, and while we were told the doctor would meet us there, he never showed up. After a few hours of waiting, the terrific ER doctor, Clayton Wheatley, took care of Tom. Saturday Tom emailed and talked to Craig Hawkins, his urologist of many years, and we made reservations to fly to Boston on Sunday for surgery with Craig Tuesday afternoon. Tom was in such pain by the time we were in the taxi to Laura's house that we detoured to Mass General’s emergency room. By the time I finished signing him in, he was in a room with all the tubes and wires already hooked up and a team of doctors surrounding him. What a world of difference from what we’d endured in St. Thomas! Immediate care and relief.

The plan for Monday was that Tom would drive Laura and Mike's car to Brunswick, drop off the CT scan disk and paperwork at Craig’s office, then return to Boston, while I went to the AT&T store in Boston to get a US SIM card for our unlocked phone (our new number is 340-474-9918—feel free to call!). But Tom called Laura to let us know he’d been admitted to the hospital in Brunswick so they could do lab work and get him stabilized for Tuesday’s surgery. I had a great time with Laura for the rest of the day, and booked a seat on the Downeaster for Tuesday morning.

Now it's March 23, and we’ve been in a slip at Frenchtown Marina since our return from New England. It was a great place to leave the boat while we were away, and our extended trip qualified us for the monthly slip rate, so we’ve remained here for free, basically. Craig Hawkins did a great job getting Tom’s kidney stone—the one the St. Thomas doctor left in place!—and because we then needed to stay a week for recovery, we also got our teeth cleaned, Tom got a haircut, I got my hearing aids fixed and had an appointment with my orthopedist who gave me a cortisone shot in my hip (much relief!), and we had a great time with our neighbors and friends catching up on local news. From March 1 to 17, Tom had five ER visits, two hospital admissions for a total of six days, three doctors’ offices visits, two stents, four Foley catheters, and the worst pain imaginable. Since being back we met friends for dinner at Belle Blu, we’ve done major provisioning at Cost-U-Less and Pueblo, found a terrific drop-off laundry, done lots of boat jobs, watched the first eight episodes of the final season of Downton Abbey, and had an exquisite dinner at Oceana (a fine waterside restaurant at Villa Olga, which at one time was the Russian embassy). We expect to move over to St. John tomorrow, where we’ll be able to swim, snorkel, and face into the wind on these hot nights.

On May 11 or so, Tom and a crew of three men will take Bravo home to Camden, stopping in Bermuda if they need to, but otherwise doing one straight offshore passage. I’ll fly out, visiting daughter Mary and her family before going home. More on that later..