Skip to main content

Why a change of venue is a good thing

Over this last weekend I was able to travel to Park City, Utah and enjoy a little family reunion with my mom's side of the family.  We stayed in a beautiful resort.  It had everything for all ages.  You never had to leave the property if you did not want to.  There was so much family there despite the many that were unable to make it out.  They were missed.  However, to be able to see what family I  did brought a tremendous amount of happiness.  There were many nights spent around the fire and the hot tub.  For any healthy person it would appear to be an extremely relaxing resort.  In my case it was very taxing and left me more tired than if I were to just stay home.  So the question begs to ask then, "Why or how can you travel to a place that causes more stress and sets you back?"  I'll tell you...

Living with chronic pain prevents a lot of normal things happening in ones life.  Planning trips or any type of activity is almost impossible.  The body does not communicate like it should.  It does not ask or make deals with you to allow a planned period of time of wellness.  You can estimate and hope that by following a pattern, a planned activity will work out and your body will allow you to have some fun and normalcy.  Sadly, about one percent of that estimate actually works.  Most trips or activities continue in complete and utter pain.  They are exhausting and usually make things worse because you have done too much during that period. It is really hard to plan anything.

Due to the more recent turn of events with my health my space of living has been confined to four walls.  I have it set up to be as comfortable as possible.  My friends like to call it the "bed and breakfast".  I have a television, computer, and Ipad for any type of entertainment.  I have a chaise lounge for visitors to be comfortable while they watch me sleep or watch Netflix.  There are pictures on the walls, some are inspirational quotes, some are spiritual, and some are of my friends.  There are plenty of blankets  and accessories to make my living space as comfortable and inviting as can be.  It truly is a lovely place, but after a while even the four walls of beauty get tiring.  It can become stuffy at times and even uncomfortable.  When your whole life has suddenly been condensed to only your room, the slightest bit of a change is intriguing and accepted most times.

During my stay in Park City, I hardly spoke to anyone.  With my voice being hoarse and the energy it takes to speak, it was easier to be silent and observe.  I walked slower than a turtle.  If I move too fast the dizziness becomes worse and I feel that I am going to pass out and it also hurts the rib more with fast motions.  Walking down the hall to the elevator wore me out.  I attempted the hot tub numerous times because it does help relax and take pressure off the rib.  I was unable to enjoy it like I had hoped.  If I got too hot I felt more sick to my stomach.  If little kids got in and started splashing and moving around the water it made the dizziness go haywire.  Sleeping was just like at home.  I did not get much sleep.  The pain keeps me up.  I tried my hardest to entertain my little nieces and my cousins kids.  Everyday I took time to get ready and tried not to look so sick or show it with  expressions.  Wherever the action was I tried to be there the entire time.

One would think that was a horrible time and waste of valuable resting energy to get me back to working and on with my normal life.  To those who think or say that,  I disagree.  Why would I exert all my energy into this family gathering?  Surely my family would understand why I was unable to attend.  Why risk having a setback and making things worse?  Because despite what seemed like a horrible time for me it was a wonderful retreat.  I was able to look at something else besides my walls.  I got to push myself everyday to be as well as possible.  I was in a big beautiful room that allowed me to relax when needed.  Everything I could possibly need was all at the resort.  I was up in the mountains.  It was beautiful weather.  Most of all, I was with my family.  I was making memories.  Watching my family interact with one another and hearing them laugh and tell stories was a blessing.  It brought life back into me.  To see how happy they were with whatever activity they were doing made me happy. Even if I could not participate in the activity.

Having a change of venue is healing.  To be where my family is brings joy to my life.  It makes me feel like a person and let me forget just for a moment that I am sick.  It is worth being in more pain for, more tired for, more dizzy for.  It is worth everything.  I am home now and back in my four wall box.  It does feel good to be home and in my own bed.  I will enjoy this for a little bit, to be in my own space.  When that wares off, I will have Park City to remember and the opportunity for a different change of venue when it is needed.  It was a wonderful blessing to be in a different place for the weekend.  It is what makes the little things precious.  Illness and the little things, that is my life.


Popular posts from this blog

People's Ignorance

With my health being in the state it’s at I’ve come to notice the ignorance of so many people and places. 
On the days that I do venture out, I use my handicap pass for parking.  I’ve noticed the extreme limited amount of handicap parking spaces.  At the University Mall, with all its parking, there are only 4 every few rows on the south side.  Which, I’ll admit, before I really needed use of the space I never cared nor wondered if there were enough handicap parking spaces wherever I went. 
One day, I decided to “walk” around the mall for a minute.  I had just been to the movies next door.  A really sweet older man offered to help me down the few steps from the theater room.  Not knowing that you can’t touch my left side, that I had just fallen down the stairs the week before, and that stairs in general are painful.  He sort of just dragged me down them roughly.  Not helpful, but he didn’t know.  That incident had already made things tough and the pain and exhaustion was setting in.  It…

I'm still here. Struggling, but surviving

It's been a little bit of a bumpy road the last bit.  There are days where I feel somewhat okay.  Well enough to at least go to the store or to a movie, and others (which are more frequent) where it is all I can do to just get out of bed.  The pain in my ribs gets so bad.  If that weren't enough, I've been having terrible migraines in the back of my head.  My right arm is still giving me trouble.  Most days it's so weak, I can barely hold a plate in that hand.  If I'm honest, it terrifies me. I don't know what that means.  Is the neuropathy spreading? Is something else going on? My head just spins. My doctor ended physical therapy even though I'm still using my walker.  I go swimming twice a month as my physical therapy.  It feels so nice to be in the water and not feel the pressure of pain.  But I can only handle it for about an hour and then I've completely exhausted myself. Thank you friends who have taken me swimming by the way.  It's not very g…

Hello world, I'm still here thanks to the moments before I started to be sick.

Over the past few weeks, I have spent my nights of no sleep watching an old TV show called "GREEK".  It's a show about sororities and fraternities in College.  Not all that great, but it got me thinking.  It even made me cry.  It was all because I was remembering my life before I got to this moment.  I miss it. And I miss the people who have moved on.  

After High School, I went Southern Utah University.  It was amazing there.  I lived in a crappy, extremely old building on campus called Manzanita.  I lived with 4 other girls with 1 bathroom, no dishwasher, the whole building shared a small TV, and my first ever coin operated laundry experience.  I met the most wonderful people there.  It really was a glorious experience.  I dated a lot. It would annoy some of my roommates because I had a boyfriend at the time who was serving a mission. His name was Cameron and even though I dated a lot, I looked forward to his letters, emails, and packages. He was my first love. I met on…