Tag Archives for vacation

No Fire In My Legs

I’ve written often about the pain in my legs feeling like fire when it gets unbearably intense. Today the pain feels manageable, but I’m excited to share about another kind of fire. For the first time in my life –   without anyone’s help – I successfully lit a fire in a wood fireplace. That may seem like no big deal for a person who lives in a house with a wood fireplace or anyone who goes camping regularly; but I’m a city girl who never goes camping and only ever has to flip a switch to light a gas fireplace.

I won’t lie, it took quite a few tries to get the kindling to stay lit until it became a fully crackling fire. When the flames finally started shooting, I felt a great sense of accomplishment.

No Fire In My Legs – December 2018
No Fire In My Legs – December 2018

Interestingly, I’m away from home and before leaving on my trip I was stressed about the very real possibility of experiencing a fiery pain flare up. Nevertheless, here I am today, after traveling thousands of miles and for the first time in a long time, the fire I’m feeling is exactly where it should be…

 

Alicia Keys – Girl On Fire

 

Hobbling Across the Pond

Last winter, I took a trip. As much as it was a trip to get away from the frigid cold in the middle of winter to enjoy some tropical sunshine, sandy beaches, and saltwater; it was also a trip to test how well I can handle long-distance travel by air with my ongoing health issues. Overall, I handled it fairly well, so I’m taking another trip.

Even though things went well last year, I’m still somewhat anxious about getting on a plane again. This flight will be eight hours long, which is double the length of the last one; and I will travel 5,700 kilometres (3,550 miles) and cross five time zones over the Atlantic Ocean. Until I land and adjust to the time difference, I don’t think I’ll be able to assess the extent to which I’m affected. During the flight I took last year, my pain wasn’t significantly aggravated, but sitting in an airplane seat for eight hours this time, while feeling intense pain might be different. Add to that the fact that I’ve always been a bit of a nervous flyer and I have to admit that I’m not really looking forward to getting up in the air again.

However, my anxiety doesn’t end with the thought of getting on the plane and sitting through an eight-hour flight. I’m also anxious because I’ll be so far away from home, my doctors, and everything else familiar. During this trip, I’ll be staying with friends I haven’t seen since my last trip across the pond about six years ago. Although my friends are aware that I’m ill, they haven’t seen how the pain and accompanying side effects affect my daily life. I’m already worried about how I’ll cope and how they might react if – or more likely when – I have a pain flare up while I’m staying with them.

I know I shouldn’t expend the energy worrying about “what ifs?” but it’s hard after living with constant pain for this long and knowing that a flare up is never far off. It’s also hard not to worry about how others will react when they see you for the first time struggling to walk or unable to move at all because of pain. It’s hard not to worry about how greatly affected I’ll be by jet lag, especially because I already have a lot of difficulty with sleep and I never sleep well on planes.

It’s hard not to worry about how I’ll cope traveling around a city where public transit is widely used, when I’ve avoided using public transit where I live since becoming ill: how will I handle the sudden stops and starts of the trains or not being able to find a free seat while traveling on one? It’s hard not to worry about how I’ll explain needing to rest for a few days after going out for just a few hours. There are a lot more things I’m worried I’ll have to deal with and explain, but I suppose I’ll cross those bridges when I get to them.

Nevertheless, before I even get to the other side of the pond, there are some things I did in preparation for last year’s trip that I will repeat for this one. The main thing I did last year that was extremely helpful was arranging assistance to get to and from the plane. When I get to the airport, the airline will arrange for someone to take me from the check in counter to the boarding gate by wheelchair and/or golf cart. Then when passengers start to board the plane, I will be among the first to board with assistance from the flight crew. When I arrive at my destination, the same process will happen again. There will be someone waiting for me with a wheelchair when I leave the plane who will help me through customs to the baggage carousel and they will also help me collect my suitcase. Doing this last year helped me conserve a lot of energy and probably went a long way to ensuring that I got off to a relatively good start on my trip.

Knowing that I will have this assistance at the airports goes a long way to help me maintain peace of mind. However, I’m still anxious about the laundry list of things that need to be done before I even get there…

 

Chantal Kreviazuk – Leaving On A Jet Plane

 

Tropical Test Trip

Last winter, I took a two-weeklong trip to a tropical island with beautiful sandy beaches where I bathed in saltwater and sun the entire time. That’s exactly where I’d prefer to be now when the weather forecast is -1 C (30 F) and the temperature is expected to drop further; and it’s snowing today.

My destination was a tropical island because my dad built a retirement home and permanently moved there about three years ago. None of my family was thrilled about him making the move, but it was something he had dreamt of for a long time and, besides, it’s not bad knowing you have a place to stay if you feel the need to spend some relaxed time in the sun and blue-green waters of beautiful beaches. That was my intention after my abdominal surgery three years ago. Unfortunately, my pain and the intense fear of being so far away from my doctors and a hospital Emergency Room where my medical history is easily accessible if I need help to cope with an unexpected pain flare up, kept me grounded within the walls of my small home.

Last year, in spite of the pain, I felt determined to take my first trip out of the country since becoming ill. I call it my “test trip” because I was getting on a plane for the first time in four years and leaving the country for an extended period. It took the better part of two weeks to get organized and get everything I needed to take with me into a single suitcase. Whether it was the stress of taking the trip or trying to figure out all I needed to pack – or not – to take on the trip, I felt overwhelmed, anxious and frazzled until the moment I was sitting in my seat on the airplane.

I was anxious and worried about everything. I worried about how I would walk the long distance from the check-in desk to the gate to board my plane. I worried that once the plane took off that its vibrations, much like the vibrations as I travel in other vehicles, would cause my pain to increase while I traveled the thousands of miles to and from my destination. I worried that the cabin pressure might have unpredictable effects on my nervous system and overstimulate my nerves. I worried about how I would cope, if any or all of these things affected me, causing me to have a pain flare up so far away from home and from my doctors.

Thankfully, all of that worry and anxiety was for naught. After I booked my flight, I called the airline to ask about possible accommodations for anyone with needs similar to mine. Because I made that call, when I arrived at the airport check-in desk, they ordered a wheelchair for me so I didn’t have to walk the long distance to the departure gate. My friend I traveled with didn’t even have to wheel me to the gate, that was done by airline and airport staff to make sure I got there without any issues. When it was time to board the plane the airline staff pushed the wheelchair down the ramp to the door of the plane. When I found my seat, I buckled myself in and nervously waited for take-off because even when I was healthy feeling the pressure of the plane’s take-off was always the worst part for me.

The 4.5-hour flight was uneventful. I didn’t experience any unusual spikes in my pain and I even dozed off a few times as we flew above the clouds somewhere between 9,144 m and 12,192 m (30,000 ft. and 40,000 ft.). Shortly after the plane landed then stopped at the gate at the airport in our tropical destination and the other passengers deplaned, there was someone waiting to wheel me from the plane’s door. She wheeled me through Customs then to the baggage carousel, and finally to the Arrivals’ Exit where my dad – who now lives in that tropical paradise – would pick us up. That’s when my nerves finally calmed enough for me to connect with the reality that taking a trip didn’t have to be a frightening experience for me because of my illness.

Thus began a glorious two-week vacation. Actually, by no stretch of the imagination was that enough time to benefit from the warmth and the relaxing pace at which life moves there. Even on the days when we had rain it was better than being in the midst of this cold, gloomy concrete city. During those mornings, lying in bed hearing large raindrops hitting the windows and roof was calming and soothing; and even though it meant delaying plans on those days, when the sun came out from behind the heavy dark clouds it was as if it had never rained.

We didn’t do lots of sightseeing because I knew my body couldn’t handle it and I wanted to enjoy my time away as much as possible. However, we went on a few daytrips with my dad, which gave us a chance to see more of the island. On other days, we spent hours on the local beaches not too far from my dad’s home – one of which was within walking distance. We swam in waves of saltwater and felt soft sand between our toes as we stood on those beaches looking at blue as far as our eyes could see. We ate fresh-caught fish and locally grown fruits and vegetables; and I tried not to let my pain cloud the experience as the warm temperatures and sunlight enveloped my body.

My “test trip” was a success. I made it out of the country on my first attempt. Although, getting out took great effort, caused a great deal of stress, and some added pain. When it was time for me to return home, I was sad. I knew I’d see my dad within a few months when he traveled to our city for a short visit, but I was already missing him and the island. I was already missing the distance the trip had put between me and daily life that is so highly focused on coping with pain. I was already missing the carefree feeling that being thousands of miles away from home brings.

Yet, even with that sadness, I felt something else. I felt a sense of accomplishment. Because of that trip, I discovered that in spite of my illness I can still do one of the things I loved doing so much of in the past. I now know that even with this constant pain, I can still travel and I can find enjoyment in it.