So, bright and early Tuesday morning, Jocelyn drags me out of bed kicking and screaming. (Literally)

So I finish up with last minutes packing, and we run to the store to get a tent and a flashlight. On the way home we realize we have no batteries for this flashlight. We go back.

We take a taxi to the bus depot, and get in line to purchase tickets. This is where it starts to go downhill.

Someone cuts us. Yes like cuts in line infront of us. As mortified as I am, I let it go. I think this is where it all went wrong, because then someone ELSE cuts us.

So I say, "excuse me sir, we..." and then he gives he the gesture. You know the 'be quiet I'm talking to someone' gesture.

When we finally get to the front of the line, Jocelyn tells the ticket person we need to get off at the Nanaimo Airport. Her response is "Oh, no. You need to go to Cassidy".

Not knowing where the hell we are actually going, we assume she knows what she's talking about.

Upon boarding the bus, the bus driver takes one look at our tickets and says, "I don't know where Cassidy is". This threw me for a loop. We purchased tickets to Cassidy, and we are boarding the right bus. Explain to me how this driver can actually not know where he is supposed to be stopping.

We get on the bus anyways.

Once on the bus, we decide (after the driver forced us to carry all of our luggage on with us) that if we see a place that looks camping friendly, we'll just jump off. Which would have been possible had the bus driver made any of the stops he was supposed to... or stopped at all for that matter.

Finally, He stopped in Ladysmith to pick up a package. So we made a run for it. Or tried to. While Jocelyn made it off the bus with no trouble at all, I struggled, fell, got up, struggled some more, and then nailed some guy in the head with our tent. During all of this, the bus driver sat there looking rather irritated, and finally told me to "hurry up, you're holding us up".

Finally, I manage to get off the bus without killing anyone, only to find Jocelyn keeled over laughing hystarically. We phone 411 for the number to a taxi company, only to discover Ladysmith DOESN'T HAVE ONE.

 I'm getting a bit flustered just remembering the events that took place this week, so Yada yada, we get to our campsite, set up, it starts raining (and not a light drizzle, a heavy thundering downpour) We hear growling in the woods (a wendigo, perhaps?) and then I have the worst asthma attack of my life.

Our camping trip comes to an end the very next morning, and I spent the better part of last night sitting in a hospital waiting room begging SOMEONE to give me oxygen. (which they refused to do, becuase I was not considered a priority apparently, until I passed out or something.)

So after four painful, frustrating hours, they got me high on oxygen and steroids, and I have learned that I cannot do anything by myself, because I will die.

I am never leaving the house again.