Remember how I said we had the money ready for our IVF cycle? Well, that may have been hubris.
Yesterday we had to drive someone to the airport, which is a 3.5-4 hour round trip. (I told you we live in the boonies.) We got all the way up there and about halfway home, when my husband made me turn off our This American Life podcast (I told you we were walking stereotypes).
“Is there smoke coming out of the back of the car?” he asked.
I turned around to look.
“I don’t think so, but it’s hard to tell with the back window being so dirty.”
I kept looking, he kept driving, and after a few minutes the smoke was unmistakeable. We pulled off the highway into a gas station. He opened the hood to reveal smoke coming from the engine.
Not good. Not good at all.
I started cleaning the back window with the gas station squeegee thing. It wouldn’t come clean. And why was it so dirty in the first place? Anyone mechanically-minded has probably already figured it out:
Just gushing out of the car. Getting into the exhaust and spraying all over the back window (and any unlucky people behind us).
We put 3 quarts of oil into the car (!) and got back on the road, thinking we would try to make it home. We pulled off again at the next exit (12 miles down the road) to see how much oil we had lost in that short distance.
3 more quarts.
We called AAA. The car is now in the parking lot of our usual shop, and we’re going to find out today if there is any hope at all for our engine.
I really am not interested in buying either a new engine or (heavenly being of your choice forbid) a car at this particular point in time. Keep your fingers crossed!