The start of something or my demise?

In July 2012 I received a phone call from my mother. This is not particularly strange of course, until the true reason she called was revealed.

I was first told some information.  Then the crux was exposed.

“We [my mum and her husband] are going on a big trip to Europe next year!” she exclaimed.  Then continued: “We’re not inviting or taking anyone with us…[pause], except you.  Are you interested?”

“Great mum, you’ll love it.” I said. Then the invitation began to sink in. I was silent, but what she could not see was my huge smile. I eventually responded: “Um, really? Me?”

Over a year on from that phone call I am writing this blog.  Today is the day that my mum and her husband fly out to Europe. I just had a lovely lunch with them and said goodbye, au revoir, and arrivederci.

But wait! Does that mean I am not going?

Of course not! I am definitely going! Oh boy oh boy, am I going!  Just not as soon as I’d like. I will meet my mum and her husband in Paris four weeks after they first arrive there.

Right now you are reading this about six weeks on from when I said goodbye to my mum and her husband. Which means right now I am now in Europe.

The start of something..

When first receiving that phone call over a year ago it all seemed a bit like a dream. Not entirely real, but rather fantastic.

However, with a decent year of planning, talking, booking, and getting prepared, I am very confident that I’m well and truly ready.

Now, I am so sure that I will love it that I’ve been thinking about where I might like to go next. Yep, definitely the start of something good.

My demise?  

This is the part that not many people understand. When I say I am a little nervous about the trip the most common reaction is to reassure me, tell me that I’ll be okay and that I’m meeting mum and her husband at the airport in Paris. But no one quite gets the one thing that actually makes me nervous. And when I explain it, I get the feeling that people don’t truly understand.

Let me tell you what makes me so nervous.

If I don’t get enough sleep, I feel sick. And when I feel sick for too long I usually start being sick. Both the feeling of and being sick is bad enough, but it gets better (or rather, worse). Because of my disability, cerebral palsy, I have difficulty stopping myself being sick (due to low muscle tone). So starting to feel sick brings the dread of an awfully long period of time trying to manage myself vomiting and working very, very hard to stop. Not fun.

This, in my opinion and experience, is enough to be nervous about.

To combat this I have sleeping pills and stemetil (anti-nausea medication). I also have a neck cushion, eye mask, ear plugs and plenty of positive thoughts too.

As I mentioned earlier, you’ll be reading this when I am already in Europe. So hopefully all went well; I too am well, and having a great time.

Amici addio!  I look forward to updating you when I get back : )

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