We went back to Clinque St. Augustin with the happy expectation of picking up Bob Brown and bringing him back onboard Insignia before it sailed that evening. We arrived at ICU to find that there was some type of medical emergency going on and we couldn't go in right away. It was 2:00 pm before we got in after the same nurse, obviously under stress, told us repeatedly we could come in "two minutes!" over a two hour period.
Sitting in the hallway, we watched doctors running in and out. Nurses calmly moving about and one older gentleman that was being hurrily guided to the men's washroom in distress. Later people went in same washroom and immediately backed out with pained faces.
Finally we got into Bob's room and he did not look so good. He'd had a stroke earlier in the morning well before we got there. The blood clot did not go to his brain rather, to the vein suppling blood to his heart. So, there was damage to his heart but no mental imparement. He was not going home today.
The staff told us, in very stuggling English, that he would be in ICU for three days and if all went well, into a regular room in the hospital for four more days. We could only visit at ICU but, once in the recovery someone could stay with him, including overnight with a cot provided.
We went back to the ship to prepare to stay in Bordeaux. We couldn't leave Bob just stranded in a hospital ICU by himself in a foriegn country where he couldn't understand the langage and therefore lacked the details of his care and condition. He was not at all his normally cheerful self, as you might guess. I know that usually the first reaction to these types of things happening to you is a debilitating depression and Bob didn't look or sound too good.
Back at the ship everyone, expecting Bob back because of the previous news of his probable release. They were all was asking about him. It took us 45 minutes, standing at the bottom of the gangplank to get back on the ship. Everybody wanted to know details and to offer their hugs and prayers. I thought Betsy was going to collapse in the sun before we could get her past all the concerned well-wishers.
Inside the ship, trying to move to our cabins to pack wasn't much better but, at least it was cool and out of the sun. We packed for several days ashore and advised the ship that we'd not be returning to Insignia before it left Bordeaux for England.
Getting out was almost as difficult and stressful for Betsy but, at least we weren't on a tight deadline to get packed. It took us an hour to make the short walk to the street and call an Uber. This showed you how many of the crew and passengers knew and were concerned about Bob.
We got a hotel relatively close to the hospital.
The next day when we went in to see Bob he looked so much better. He was upbeat, there was no redness or swelling, his color was good and he was smiling. They had put him on a different medication. (No, I don't know what. They told him in French and they were hesitant to talk about it with us because we were not related to him) We just knew he looked so much better.
Betsy had already decided to stay with him and fly back with him to New York, where he lives, after his week in the hospital. I stayed until I knew Betsy was set up, uncluding how to use Uber if needed. (So much cheaper that taxis)
After the forth day in Bordeaux my plan was to take the train to Paris, transfer to a train to London, spend the night and catch another train to catch up with the ship in Liverpool. I had to move quick to make it back. Bob was in good hands and good spirits at the hospital and I had no place to stay. That, plus I was now becoming a third wheel and needed to give them time together.
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