Vacation Unraveled
I spent 18 hours of the 24 hours before we left for a seven day beach vacation last week standing in my kitchen. Traveling means I bring a week's worth of food for myself and my son. I count out meals and snacks packed in individual ziploks frozen and taken out as needed. Between Friday at 11am and Saturday at 11am I made chicken fingers, chicken stir-fry, baked chicken, meat stir-fry, eggs, mashed sweet potatoes, muffins, crackers, hummus, corn, cookie dough, peach crisp and ice pops. I had prepped and cut carrots and broccoli and brought a single pot to make fresh pasta (that doesn't freeze well).
This of course doesn't include all of the dry goods, the paper products, microwave, hepa filter and box of infusion supplies and medications we travel with. But after years of traveling this way it feels oddly normal and once I make my lists and organize myself I just get it done.
To say this vacation was needed would be the understatement of the century. After two years of pandemic life a week at the beach with my husband's family was something we all were looking forward to. Covid tested, food cooked and clothes packed, our heart's sank when our son shared the morning we were leaving, "my throat feels scratchy." On a scale of one to ten he said it was a one so after clearance from all people going we still moved forward with loading the car. I assume it was adrenaline that carried him through the first 24 hours of the trip before the virus took over and vacation took a new turn.
There were still good moments, time with family indoors that we had not been able to do since the pandemic began, there was playing and laughter, beach time and beautiful sunsets. But that was also mixed with finding covid testing sites, waiting for negative results, lots of whining and monitoring our son's temperature and hoping that every morning it would be the one he woke up fever free. By Thursday it was clearly time to see a doctor and so as he cried we packed the car up to go home. Despite all of our effort and planning the vacation we had waited so long for clearly did not pan out how we expected. But I suppose that is often how life works isn't it?
There have been other times vacations were shortened, holidays missed and plans unraveled most often due to surprising twists and turns our rare chronic diseases move us through. Despite being a planner, I have long given up pretending that I have any control over when our bodies fall apart. But what we can control is how we handle these moments as that will define the memories we carry with us.
Two years ago when our son was inpatient over Thanksgiving it is not the fear and pain he remembers but the huge turkey balloon that arrived along with his family who brought Thanksgiving to the hospital- decorations and all.
Of course it is normal to be upset and I gave myself space to be in that feeling, after waiting so long for this vacation this hardly seemed fair. And with the pandemic surging there is no hope for another one happening anytime soon. But we did what we do best, we adjusted plans and tried to make the most of our time, knowing especially this year we still had endless things to be grateful for.
After recovering fully at home the last few days, I can already see the harder days and stress quickly fading away. Instead the light saber fights, water balloons, and many hours of playing toy trucks will be the memories we carry with us until we try again next year.
