Spring break.

My husband, my son, and me.

A road trip to one of our favorite spots on the California coast.

4 days, 3 nights.  

And pain. Lots and lots of pain.

I started the week with high hopes and lots of gratitude. Last year’s spring break was spent at home. This year, fully vaccinated and boosted, it was possible for us to spend time in one of my favorite places — Cambria, California.

Being in Cambria is good for my soul. Away from my daily responsibilities, away from the noise of the big city (no helicopters, no sirens, no car alarms), I feel calm. Serene.  

The whole time we were there, I kept waiting for the good vibes to kick in. I was waiting for the pain to decrease and fade into the background all together. 

It never happened.

By the time we got home, I was in agony. My legs were beyond hurting. My legs felt weak, as if any moment I might topple over or my knees might suddenly decide to buckle.

Almost 500 miles roundtrip with me as the driver.

Walks and hikes, up to 5 miles each day.

Back at home, back to the responsibilities of bills, laundry, and watering my plants, I felt so disappointed. 

Why can’t my body just work the way I want it to? 

That question came to mind on our first night home, as I stood under our shower, thankful I no longer had to make due with the barely-there water pressure of our hotel. 

A few days later, the answer came to me.

My body did do everything I wanted it to do.

I planned and packed.

I drove and sang. (It doesn’t get any better than driving along a stretch of the 101 while my husband, my fourteen-year-old son, and I all sang along to Hey Jude.) 

I walked and watched. (We saw elephant seals up close and dolphins from a distance.)

My body did do everything I wanted it to do. 

I have to keep repeating that to myself. 

It might not have been easy or pain-free, and it might never again be. That’s the big difference when you live with a chronic illness and chronic pain. 

But, you make the decision to do it anyway.