It's so easy to forget that travel doesn't come with a rule book. Handbooks abound; there is a wealth of great advice and useful tips from seasoned travellers and on occasion it certainly seems like there is an ironically well-trodden route to independent travel.
Three years ago I was struggling on one of my travel adventures, in increasing pain and no longer able to seize my opportunities as I would wish. I struggled as much with the fear of failure accompanying a capitulation to the counterintuitive necessity of giving up. Watching my own body disintegrate into a mass of inflammation and acute pain, I responded to the internal voice that had been pleading for nearly two weeks:
come home.
My relief upon the return to the familiar comforts of my home
was shortlived. I felt that I had been summoned home to a greater, harder adventure: hanging on through the extreme pains that come with a serious flareup of an autoimmune disease and finding my way through the daunting tangle of multiple bureaucracies that confront the chronically ill in this most vulnerable episode.
For one afflicted with a permanent case of itchy feet, being stuck in one chair for months at a time is torturous, but one of my coping mechanisms was a healthy dose of travel-brochure escapism. I dreamed of far-flung destinations, but a highly-supported short break to a coastal destination less than one hundred miles away was just as exciting. After a relaxing European getaway, and the confidence that the worst of my pain was somewhat under control, I felt ready to attempt an independent trip last November, where I enjoyed great support from airport workers who are becoming rather used to seeing me these days.
First trips are often something of a steep learning curve, and I overdid it a bit so that I experienced a bit of a flareup upon my return. Nevertheless I was determined to work out a safe middle ground, and after a successful trip this year I look forward to better travel management on my part.
With my specific mobility problems, I feel blessed in the "negotiable" nature of my ailments; fatigue management is the major concern, so there are many activities that are not entirely out of the question, leaving options open to me that may not be suitable for some wheelchair users, for example. However, the pain factor takes some trial and error, and the errors are terrifying!
I remain a bit apprehensive about what my future travels have in store for me - and whether my health will ever allow me to do some of the more adventurous things that appeal now but would have terrified me when I was younger - but it's also a new adventure, an opportunity to do things that seemed impossible and unattainable only two years ago.
So I strike forth, conscious that the decisions I make at this stage determine the success of the trip, and even whether I come home in a reasonable healthy state. I cannot follow the independent traveller footpath on this occasion. "Rustic" facilities are out of the question, and even the local terrain and its crowds receive careful consideration before major decisions are made. I can't afford the flexibility that I would, in other circumstances, relish. Climate is a greater issue than before, and while I have never enjoyed humidity personally, my body seems to relish it. I must find a new way to travel, grasping at opportunities and pragmatically rejecting fun activities that are not in my best interest.
From this side of the pharmacy, every travel experience will be new: scarier, less predictable and wholly unknown, but also exciting. I look forward to the journey.
