Adventures in Health, Part I

"We've got to rename this blog." she said, grumpily, as she realized she hadn't made a post in literally five months.

"Maybe, 'Do You Even Biannually Update, Bro?'"

Yes, I'm speaking in third person.


Maybe the reason I haven't posted in such a spell is due to the title. Maybe it's because this blog was a source for venting in the wildly violent rollercoaster we dealt with last year. Perhaps I'm afraid that if I open it up, I'm opening the chance that Sharon's cancer could come back, like a malignant penny.

Or maybe it's because I'm really freaking busy.

Major Updates:

Last month, we packed up the handi-van and trekked down to Orlando, for a weeklong vacation before the chaos of school took over. Sharon insisted on stopping at every rest stop for #interstateyoga, which has yet to catch on.

Namaste, y'all.

We had some reservations about traveling with Ed. How would he handle the 13-hour drive? Would the resort be truly ADA-friendly? Would we be able to manage his needs, from meds to meals? And how would he tolerate being in a completely different location for a week?

2/3 of this group is ready for cocktails. Phil isn't.

I am happy to report that is was amazing. The resort was an ADA dream: a phenomenal suite with an easy shower, pneumatic chairs in every pool and spa to allow access for all patrons, and a perfectly accommodating staff. I can't say enough great things about the Sheraton Vistana. Ed did a surprisingly good job swimming, his muscle memory taking over where his cognition didn't.

Except for the first couple of times.

"Mom..he's been under the water for awhile."

"It's fine, he'll pick his head up."

(the longest beat in the world)

"OK LET'S GET HIS FACE OUT."

Eat your heart out, Esther Williams

I learned some valuable lessons about myself on this vacation. I know I'm incredibly protective of my family, defensive to a fault; but I realize that as I work toward my RN, the chip on my shoulder is going to have to be shaved down. There's advocacy, and there's attitude. There's a thin line between being a champion and being combative.

At one of the pools, I saw a couple outright staring at my parents as my mother floated Ed around the pool. I'm not talking about furtive glances, I'm talking literal, minutes-long gawking. Phil had to keep me from instigating a fight.

"What? I just want to ask them if they have a handicapped person they love at home, and if they didn't, to move their fucking eyeballs elsewhere."
"...Exactly. Have a cocktail."

Pre-massage drinks, for extra relaxation

I know enough about myself to recognize that one of my weaknesses is an inability to tolerate intolerance, if that makes any sense. My behavior when "fighting for the little guy" can be seen as aggressive and imbalanced. I think it's part of the reason I'm so honed in on advocating for mental health rights: I see the stigma as such a violation of human decency that I become downright pugnacious. 

Still, it was a valuable, relaxing time - even venturing to Disney with Sharon and Norah. We left Ed and Phil at the resort, to avoid heat exhaustion. The struggle of the sun was real.

Explaining to a six year old that they need sunscreen to avoid the sunburn that they're convinced is imminent. #assholeparent

Fortunately, the three of us were able to seek air conditioning and shade to keep the meltdowns, both literal and figurative, to a minimum.

Risk for hyperthermia r/t the fucking Orlando Sun. Intervention: ice cream, obvi

I've never seen my daughter as a princess fan. Her knowledge base of Disney royalty lives and dies with Elsa and Anna. So when she was excited to meet Cinderella, I had a rush of confusing feelings. On one hand, aww, she's excited about meeting royalty and she looks so cute. On the other, god dammit, Cinderella is all about misogyny, the patriarchy, and lack of consent.

Then I realized that these are the memories she'll carry with her for years, and I should STFU for once and let her enjoy the moment.

Whatever, Gloria Steinem, I'm going to let her have this.

For every moment I pre-suffered over when planning for this vacation, it was met with three moments of complete calm, beauty, and joy. I don't call things perfect very often, but this was as damn close to it as one can get.

Forget Disney, I have my own princesses in my life (barf)

In the next blog post: sky goddesses, the first week of nursing school, and "What's that smell?"