Going to all the Ottawas

     Traveling with Kasey is always an adventure. My niece was diagnosed with congenital hydrocephalus about 13 years too late. Therefore, she has had some brain damage and she has regular seizures; some are just little tics and others are more... catastrophic. The little tics are often kind of funny. As a rule, we keep Kasey's drinks far away from her in case she has a myoclonic seizure, which means she will involuntarily throw out one or both arms and clear off the table, drenching anyone within 10 feet. The seizures that freak me out are the kind when she loses consciousness and just stares out of one corner of her eye and then opens and closes her mouth like a drowning fish. I really don't like the drop seizures where her arms go flying out like Superman in flight, and then she falls, usually face first. But, my least favourite are the tonic-clonics.
     Sounds harmless enough, right? Kind of like a drink you'd order at a fancy jazz bar. As in, "I'll have a tonic-clonic on the rocks. Hold the olives, please". Not so fun when she has one in the back of your car. I would like to believe that the series of seizures Kasey experienced Tuesday night was due to her overwhelming excitement to be in Ottawa for Winterlude.
     We picked up Kasey and my sister in Trenton on Tuesday morning. Surprisingly enough, they both got some sleep the night before. We prefer to keep travel plans a secret from Kasey until we are actually leaving because she does not stop talking about it. For about a week, all she will say is, "Where's Kasey going?" To which we must all reply, repeatedly, "Kasey's going to Ottawa." She needs constant reassurance that she is going, as well as, daily affirmations that everyone else is going, too. All of her questions are on repeat, so you have a constant loop. It's like KaseyTV - 24 hours of all of her favourite things to say.
    Getting back to Highway 416, a brain fart made me turn East on the 417 instead of West to get to Moodie Drive, but we eventually arrived at Mongolian Village in Nepean. For those of you who have never been, it's kind of like a buffet where you gather various foods in a bowl, which is weighed, and then fried on a big cast iron grill while you watch.

     This is one of the places my mother has on her bucket list of things to see before she kicks it. She saw an ad for the place about 15 years ago, so she has been waiting a long time to go. That might explain why she had to pay $20 for her lunch. When she saw all of the fruits, vegetables, noodles and meat she could put in her stir-fry, she decided she had to try a little of everything and her metal bowl was overflowing. She had crab meat, pineapple, spinach noodles, beef, banana chips, sesame seeds and taro root in there (among countless other things) and she enjoyed everything except the crab meat. Kasey was actually pretty adept at using the chopsticks with her meal, but she didn't like the wraps. It was a perfect meal for my mom (who can't eat spice), my sister (who is on the low-carb diet), me (a pescetarian, who can't get enough spice) and Kasey (who just likes going to restaurants). While we were there, Kasey told the server that she was going to Ottawa. With her, Ottawa isn't just a place; It's a series of places that include restaurants, hotels, tourist attractions and shopping malls.

     Next on the itinerary was a visit to the Chinatown Royal Arch... which we drove through at about 50 km an hour before heading to the hotel. lol.
     Our room at the Hotel Indigo wasn't quite ready when we arrived, so it was a good time to check out the ice sculptures of Winterlude in Confederation Park. Hahaha. First of all, parking in downtown Ottawa is terrifying, even if you have a parking pass. Underground parking is only accessible to those who drive Smartcars or Mini Coopers. Good thing I'm a professional driver. It was -18 C, so we bundled up and walked two blocks to the park, stopping to talk to a cute Red Cross volunteer looking for donations. Kasey told him we were going to Ottawa.

     We walked through a teepee (this irritates me because local natives lived in longhouses - not teepees - but you never see a longhouse at these events) and then walked through a Mongolian Yurt. I would gladly trade my little, 3-bedroom shithole with attached garage and above-ground pool for a year in any of those three structures. They're so rustic and homey. However, I can't see big Rod enjoying any time in a yurt.
     This brisk walk took about 10 minutes and, by then, my mother'd had enough of Winterlude. She insisted it was never so cold when she lived in Ottawa. Rest assured, Global Warming is not a valid theory - so says my mother. Her face was too cold to pronounce "One Killaloe Beavertail without cinnamon, please". I thought she might accidentally spit out her false teeth. My sister gave her a hot pocket for her mittens, but she insisted it was "giving her electric shocks" and felt like "something in it was alive". Meanwhile, Kasey was asking the Beavertail bakers, "What's your name?"
     Everyone is always so polite to Kasey. How could you not be? She's the cutest little 21-year-old on the planet. So, one guy replied that his name was Matt. Then, he asked what her name was, but Kasey did not reply. She just carried on the rest of the conversation without him; she usually tells people that her mom is at work (even though she is right there beside her) and her baby is at home (even though she is pointing to the doll while she says it) and that she is going to Ottawa. Of course, being polite, Matt tries to participate in the conversation by asking her other questions about herself and her doll. I explained to him that he needn't bother. Kasey gets to ask the questions, but she will very rarely answer anything.
     She and I shared a Quebecoise Beavertail (with maple sugar and chocolate). She enjoyed it so much, she wouldn't even let her mom smell it. It WAS good. Not just good... fucking exceptional! I love Beavertails! I carried mom's coffee while she tried to eat hers with mittens and walk through uneven snow at the same time. She whined that she couldn't feel her fingers enough to squeeze her lemon. This statement made me lol and I spilled her coffee onto my beautiful, blue mittens. At least laughing brought some feeling back into my face. Mom continued to stumble through the snow, falling into potholes occasionally, as we made our way back to the hotel. Although slightly understated, I think Kasey said it best... "It's so cold."
     That was the extent of our Winterlude activities. We went back to the hotel and spent half an hour in our winter coats, hats and mitts beside the indoor pool and jacuzzi. We must have looked like homeless people on a sea-side vacation.

     Hotel Indigo is very new age (for lack of a better description). There were haikus in every room and in every section of the hotel. Our room was really nice, but really small. There was a mural on the wall of a blue, cable-knit pattern, which is very appropriate for my mother who is an avid knitter. We had two queen-sized beds, a desk, a bureau, a chair and barely enough room to walk to the window.
     We decided to go downstairs for an afternoon swim. I got into the hot tub first, which is a bad idea because that makes it harder to get into the warm pool. Anything less than 90 degrees F feels cold after being in a hot tub. But, I was determined to have my own version of a Nordic Spa, so we all gathered in the hot tub first and cooled off in the pool. Back into the hot tub to get warm and into the pool to cool off. That was enough for me. I headed to the sauna.
     I was in the process of taking some naked pictures with my cell phone to send to Big Rod back home when I heard my sister say we needed to get Kasey up the stairs ASAP because she fainted in the bathroom. My yoga pants are a bitch to put on, especially if I'm a little bit wet, so I hopped around the sauna trying to get my feet in, fumbling around for my socks and bra at the same time. They had to wait for me because there is a swipe key to get into AND out of the fitness center.
     Kasey was not looking good when we dragged her up the stairs and into the elevator. She passed out on the bed and it looked like she was developing a cold. She was achy and chilled, she was sneezing regularly and she was sniffly, as well. We let her have a rest for a couple of hours before heading out to the Elgin Street Diner.
     ESD is one of my favourite places to go in Ottawa when I'm there. I think it's mostly nostalgia - memories of the time I spent at the bars downtown, getting breakfast after a late night of drinking and sampling all the various versions of poutine. The portions are huge and I like the poutine, but it's not the best poutine I've ever had. The potatoes are cut too thin and the gravy is made from a powder. I love it there anyway. Check the menu at http://www.elginstreetdiner.com/
     The diner is nine city blocks from our hotel, but we drove because of the weather, and within two minutes, Kasey started having a tonic-clonic seizure in the back seat. This starts out with her little body going stiff, then her limbs start to convulse and she starts to make a lot of noise with her breathing. In this case, she was snorting so loudly that it sounded like her throat was tearing. She tried to stretch and roll after about a minute and by then, my sister got an Ativan under her tongue so the seizure would stop. Although we are all used to this kind of thing by now, it still makes me unsettled. I feel bad for Kasey, I feel bad for my sister. But, like Cis always says, there really isn't anything we can do but wait them out and we can't put Kasey's life on hold on the off-chance that she has a seizure. That's what these little road trips are all about - spending time with a very special girl whose basic joys in life are quick visits, shopping at Walmart, and food.
     We waited until she could walk again, but she was tired out from the seizure. It must have looked like we were bringing in a drunk, with me and my sister linking arms on either side of Kasey, who was staggering with her head down. We took a seat and ordered our meals while she rested in the booth. Mid-meal, her eyebrow started twitching involuntarily, meaning another seizure was coming. The poor girl hadn't regained her strength from the last one and here was another on the way. Nobody stared at us while we waited out another tonic-clonic that lasted about three and a half minutes with the same convulsing and the same snorting noise. The servers asked if they could offer any help, but like us, there was nothing they could do. We finished up our dinner and I went to get the car. All the staff at the diner were very helpful and polite.
     In spite of all this, we all had a great time. We got to see all of the Ottawas (or at least the important Ottawas) while we were there. She was very happy to be going home the next morning and Rod was as happy to see me in person as he was to see a picture of me, wet and naked in a tiny, hotel sauna 300 km away.