How a weekend away is a 2 week ordeal

October 2, 2017

I’m going away this weekend and I’m super excited!

I used to travel all the time. 2 months at home felt like FOREVER. I could pack an overnight back without even thinking about it. I got on a plane multiple times each year and did some weeks and weekends within driving distance. A weekend away in the Berkshires, less than a 3 hour drive away, would be no big deal.

But that was then.

And this is now.

Now I have to plan. I am being super careful about washing my hands and avoiding germs. I can’t get sick now!

I need to bring food with me. I will be with friends and some food will be safe for me to eat, but I need to bring other food. So I went to the grocery store today (Monday) and carefully planned out what I will make and which days I will make it. I also promised to bake cookies to bring, and I can’t do big cooking on the same day I bake, because I won’t have enough energy for that, but I can’t make anything too far in advance because I want it all to be fresh.

The day before the trip I will do some packing, but most of my stuff (my ASV (which is like a CPAP), my medications, toiletries, and more) can’t be packed until the day of. I need to ration my energy that day. Thankfully, I only have to drive half an hour to a friends’ house that day and then she will do the rest of the driving from there. Still, even being a passenger will be tiring and painful.

I am already thinking about how to handle my food and medications on the day of the trip. I always feel like shit the first night I travel. So I am being careful to bring everything I need to take it all at the right times: I will take something to help with the pain and the nausea when we start to drive, something else for the pain when we arrive, then something else for the nausea a few hours after that. Between medical cannabis and pepto bismol, the right foods and lots of rest, I am hoping really hard that it won’t be too miserable. Thankfully, I will be with friends who will understand if I can’t hang out with them that night.

I have scheduled my medical appointments around this trip. I was able to get a physical therapy appointment just a couple days after I return, so hopefully that will help with the pain from the long car ride and sleeping in a less-than-great bed.

My calendar is empty for the first 2 days after my return. That will give me time to rest and recover. I will get a lot of sleep, watch tv and movies, crochet, and read. If I feel up to it I will do more, and if not, that’s ok too. During my recovery time, I still need to eat, and I might not be up to preparing food, so I am making sure to cook and freeze food now that I can eat when I return.

I want to travel more. I really, desperately do. But then I remember what a trip like this is like. I can manage it ok, because it is only two days. I will leave at noon on Friday and be home by 5pm on Sunday at the latest. And I won’t be flying. I know it would be much harder if I was flying, for many reasons. It would be more painful. I might feel anxious at being “trapped” on a plan. Not to mention, I wouldn’t be able to bring any cannabis with me, and I can’t imagine how I would manage my symptoms without it.

At the same time, a friend and I are trying to schedule another weekend that I can visit her. The drive is less than 2 hours, but I would be driving myself. She would provide food I could eat during the entire visit, but aside from that, everything else would be the same. Resting for days in advance, blocking out days afterwards for rest, figuring out medications and other things to help alleviate my symptoms while knowing that I will almost definitely feel like shit the night that I arrive.

Sometimes it doesn’t seem worth it. But I know it will be in the end. Even thought it won’t be easy. It won’t be like it was before. But hopefully it will still be fun.


Feeling blah

August 30, 2017

This has been an odd summer for me. The thing is, I’m not sure how much of that is because of my chronic illnesses, and how much might be coming from something else.

2016-09-26-15-34-58

For one thing, the weather has been unusually not-too-horrible. I can go outside! On top of that, I seem to be less sensitive to air pressure and humidity than I have been in the last 10 years or so. More ability to go outside! That doesn’t mean I can always go out, but on days that would have caused extreme pain or trouble breathing before, I’m actually doing ok.

On top of that, for the first time since I was 18, I live in an apartment with central air conditioning. This. Is. Awesome!

Because of all of that, I have less fatigue and less pain than in previous summers.

So why do I feel so blah? Why have I been a bit moody? Sure, I still have more pain and more fatigue than at other times of the year, but is that it? I keep thinking it is. I keep thinking that when summer is over, I’ll feel better.

It’s not like me to be so uninterested in certain things. I have been trying to do some part time work, but I’ve barely done anything for my fledgling business all summer. At first that seemed ok. I had worked too hard in the spring and was burned out. So I took a break. The problem is, I still have no desire to go back to it.

The thing that really worries me, though, is that I’m wondering if maybe I shouldn’t get a dog after all. You regular readers know that I’ve been trying to get a dog for more than 2 years, with one problem after another cropping up. And now I wonder if a dog is too much work and too much responsibility for me. And I love dogs, but are they worth it?

It occurred to me that these are symptoms of depression. But I’m not depressed. I’m still very happy. I’m very interested in other things. I have been excited to try some new crochet patterns. Last week I finally picked up a project that I had let go of for over a month, and now I’m excited to work on it again. I’m loving spending time with friends.

So why the hell am I doubting if I should get a dog? Why am I avoiding work?

I think it’s the summer effect. This summer isn’t as bad for me this year, it’s true. But I think it’s affecting my mood anyway. Otherwise, this just makes no sense.

In 3 more weeks I should know.

A lot of people don’t like working. That’s ok. But not wanting to get a dog? If that keeps up, I’ll know something is truly wrong.


When triggers feel absurd

August 18, 2017

Some triggers seem reasonable. If I fall and land with any pressure at all on my hand or wrist, my wrist pain fill flare for days, weeks, or months. If I exercise too much, my pain and fatigue will flare. Some triggers make sense but piss me off: like eating lunch.

Yes, eating lunch is a big trigger if I don’t do it right. As it turns out, eating and digesting food takes a lot more physical energy than I would have every guessed back when I felt healthier.

20120917_181648

If I eat standing up, I’ll feel sick. If I eat too fast, I’ll feel sick. If I eat at the wrong time, I’ll feel sick. If I eat and don’t rest afterward, I’ll feel sick. And “sick” can mean a few different things.

Take Wednesday for example. I had a doctor appointment at 1:40. I needed to leave by 12:40. But I wanted to make a quick stop at the library on the way, so I figured I would leave at 12:25. I usually eat lunch around 1pm, but instead I ate at noon, and I ate quickly. The second I finished eating, I ran out the door. Oops. I ate fast *and* didn’t rest afterwards. The nausea and fatigue set in fast. I was in pain. I felt horrible. But I had to get to that doctor appointment.

I pushed through. I didn’t have the strength to multitask, so I didn’t turn on the audiobook I wanted to listen to. I focused. I managed to drive safely but miserably. I went to the bathroom before I checked in, and a lot of my lunch left my system – not properly digested. Then I asked to wait in an exam room instead of a waiting room. Thankfully, they had a room available and I was able to lay down.

After laying down for a bit I felt much, much better. The nausea was gone, the fatigue was improved. Still, I took it easy the rest of the day. My appetite didn’t come back until the following night.

I know that lunch wasn’t the only problem, just the final trigger. My stress about what’s happening right now (Nazi marches!?!) and the weather (very humid) primed me. It was lunch that set me off.

It pisses me off that I can’t eat an early, quick lunch and then run out the door. But then, I also should have known better. I knew that could be a problem, but I did it anyway.

Still, I feel good about one thing: instead of pushing through and trying to “brave it out,” I asked to lie down. And it made ALL the difference.

Learning to ask for what I need has been invaluable. I don’t always do it, but when I do, I feel good about it. Now I just need to find ways to eat lunch before a doctor appointment that don’t have such terrible results. (And yes, eating after the appointment would have been just as bad – I have a very narrow window to work with.)


The never-ending guessing game of boundaries

July 25, 2017

barbwire-1765900_1920

Having chronic illness means accepting limitations. For almost two decades, my limitations made life more difficult, and they prevented me from doing some things, but their impact was limited in its own way. Then things changed.

Today I want to go to the gym and ride the stationary bike at its lowest setting for 10 minutes. But I’m not sure if I’m up to it. That’s one kind of limitation. That bothers me, but not as much as the other kind of limitation.

I want to live life on my own terms. I want to earn a living and go out more with friends. But mostly I want to travel.

Yesterday a friend told me about a trip she is planning. She knows that it is beyond her chronic illness-produced boundaries, but she is taking a chance by going anyway. And it made me question, not for the first time, if I should take more risks.

Part of me thinks I should. My doctor thinks I could. And I’m tempted to just pick up and go. But then I get scared. What happens when I inevitably feel sick? I won’t be able to bring medical marijuana – the only thing that helps – with me. Is it worth taking a trip, when I will probably feel like crap for half of it, and feel horrible when I get home? Will I be able to enjoy myself enough for it to be worthwhile?

But then I wonder, what kinds of regrets will I have if I don’t go? My symptoms will probably get worse over time, not better. Now travel feels difficult, maybe not worthwhile, and scary. At some point it will be completely impossible. Don’t I owe it to my future self to take a trip today?

Sometimes I think I should try doing something small to test the waters. But those smaller trips feel boring. If I’m going to put myself through hell, shouldn’t it be for something fantastic? Sure, I could go to Washington D.C. for the 3rd time, or to Nashville (which I’ve never had any interest in) for the first time, but it would be so much more fun to go Sweden or Norway or Iceland! Those are places I have wanted to visit for years, and I would have so much more fun there. If I feel up to doing anything.

And of course, there’s also the money issue. If I had gobs of money, not only would I not stress out about money, but I could buy certain comforts: a first class seat in the plane, a nicer hotel room, a rental scooter for when I don’t feel up to walking. Instead, I question if I should take money out of my savings for a trip at all, even one without those extra comforts. Then again, I might regret it if I don’t. I probably will.

So these thoughts are spinning around my head for the millionth time. I know some people with chronic illnesses travel. I know others don’t. I know it’s a personal choice and I need to be the one to choose. But that doesn’t make it any easier.

Because in the end, it’s not about the trip itself. It’s about the fact that my world has become very small, and I feel the need to open it up. I need new experiences and excitement. I know that would sustain me in a million mental and emotional ways. I just wonder what it would do to me physically.