24/2/17 – Home is where the (dodgy) heart is

24/2/17

Day 202

169.1

This half term week we’ve all been on holiday. H went to Madrid & Seville with her school Spanish class, and Mr W and I went to Llandudno. Now you might think us adults got the short straw, and I wouldn’t blame you, but ask which of us came back refreshed & rested, and which of us came back knackered with sore feet & friction burn on her inner thighs from walking ….

That said, H had an amazing experience, and I’m proud that we were able to get her there, (with invaluable assistance from the school) despite the fact we have less money than most and more obstacles. She’s made friends and memories, and even come back with spending money left, despite buying us both presents when we told her not to!

For Mr W and I it was more about a change of scenery. We love exploring new places, and whilst we’ve both been to Llandudno many times, neither of us have ever stayed there. Our exploring has had to take on a different method these days, as a combination of heart symptoms and non-existent knees means that anything further than a few yards walking for me is incredibly uncomfortable, but we’ve adapted, and now we drive from place to place, scouting out an interesting shop here, a pretty view there. Or we park strategically, spying cafes & making frequent rest (and cake & cuppa) stops. There are ways & means & I refuse to give up our exploring.

despite our change of pace, I have moved more in the 3 days we were away than I usually do in a week, so my drugs have been (and continue to be) my bestest friend! I’m very naughty, I sometimes take too many drugs to do the things I want to do then spend the next week recovering. (Don’t try that at home, folks!)

To be honest it still feels like we’ve had a restful break though, as time spent not having any constraints or demands always feels more relaxing. I spent the whole of Wednesday afternoon, while Mr W had a lie down after a restless night, in the seafront conservatory of our hotel, toasty warm, with my colouring book & pencils, a coke & a punnet of grapes, looking out on  a blustery seaside scene. At home I’d have felt guilty for spending so much time doing something so frivolous, but on holiday it was just wonderful.

The moral of the story (if there is one!), is that being challenged health-wise doesn’t necessarily mean the loss of everything you enjoy. Adapt, rethink, and find a way. Life has to be worth living, so instead of focusing on what I can’t do any more, I’m thankful for what I can. And that one of the lessons I’m most grateful to have been taught.

And now we’re all home, together again with stories to tell & experiences to add to our ever growing family bank. As much as we’ve all enjoyed our respective holidays there’s something about sitting around eating lasagna with my favourite people that just makes this wonky heart of mine swell.

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