Everyone has defining moments. Moments you may not realize are monumental when they’re happening. But later — days, weeks, months, or even years later — you look back at that moment, that significant event and see it for what it is — a distinct, neon-yellow line dividing your life into before and after.

Thirteen years ago, I woke up on a Sunday morning, but I couldn’t get out of bed. My left calf had ballooned, and I suddenly couldn’t do the thing I had done for years — stand up. Next came a visit to the emergency room, a hospitalization, and what would become the beginning of my life as a chronic illness patient. 

Last week, on the anniversary of that defining day, my family and I were on a summer trip visiting Washington, D.C. 

It was a vacation of firsts — the first time we had visited our nation’s capital, and the first time I rented a wheelchair for the duration of our stay.

As I told my son, I don’t know if all future trips will require use of a wheelchair. But this year, it was an absolute must. (I also requested wheelchair assistance in the airports.)

Initially, I didn’t think I would need a wheelchair at all. Then I thought I could just borrow one of the wheelchairs most museums have available for guests. Finally, I admitted the truth — my pain has been incredibly intense, my leg incredibly weak. If my family and I wanted to take this trip, I had to use a wheelchair.

There was one part of me that was heartbroken. All I could think of were the negatives — I’m 47 years old and, for this trip anyway, an ambulatory wheelchair user. My mind went down that scary, dark path — thinking ahead to future trips, picturing myself with increasingly limited mobility.

I made an effort to reframe how I thought about the facts — I’m 47 years old and not letting this chronic illness and my chronic pain stop me from living my life the way I want to live it. I wasn’t going to stay home because I needed a wheelchair. I adapted and figured out how to make this trip work for my body as it is now.

I don’t know. Maybe we’ll look back at this D.C. trip as one of those defining moments — the start of travel requiring a wheelchair. 

But maybe not. 

We’ll have to wait and see next year.

P.S. Lots more to come about this incredible trip. We spent 6 days, 5 nights away from home. We visited museums and memorials. We admired and appreciated. We listened and learned.