A Personal Journey with Crohn's Disease #crohns #colitis #ibd

My brother has been quite ill this year. A month or so ago, I asked him if he'd like to do a vacation with me. It didn't take long for him to say, "Road trip!"

At first, I was a little concerned. About him and myself. Crohn's disease can be a pain on a good road trip, but since I've decided not to let my issues define me, and he sure as hell wasn't allowing his, I agreed and put my reservations aside.

Still, I packed a secret bag that contained everything I'd need in an emergency, and vacuum-sealed my meds, just in case of a gully washer. My Humira injection was due that Thursday, but since we were coming home on Friday, I didn't think one day would matter. Turns out it didn't. No drama there. Yippee!

My husband and I are famous for our road trips. We've or rather I should say, my husband has been known to start off the day in Yellowstone only to end up in Carson City, Nevada, many, many, hours later. That was a long haul and thank heaven I was in remission at the time.

Still, we both love to drive. We called them driving vacations when the kids were little. As soon as we mentioned those two words, all three of our cute squeezable tykes would get a frightened gleam in their eye and run screaming into their respective rooms. The terror lives with them to this day.

My sister-in-law was game AND a looking a little gamey by the time we reached Beatty, NV. My emergency supplies stayed in the bag where they were supposed to be and I didn't need them which was a relief. We stayed at the Stagecoach Hotel and Casino. Pretty place, but they could use a new cashier. Not helpful, not friendly, completely forgettable. I'd forgotten my brother had a stroke (How does one forget those things?) and our rooms were on the second floor--no elevators. Frantic, I looked around the empty parking lot and begged her to see if they had any ground floor rooms.

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure."

I glared at her, grabbed the room keys, and panicked. My husband calmed me down and between the two of us we hauled everything up to the second floor. By the time we opened our room, the, uh, rest room was calling. Stress and I do not get along.

Once we settled in, we headed to the hot tub. Urgh. I'd forgotten to bring my thermometer. I run this bizarre fever and if I have the slightest elevation, a hot tub or a warm bath can shoot that puppy up to 104 in no time. Well, best to make a good thing out of a bad situation. At least I could sit outside in my bathing suit. No snow and warm sunshine. And to be sure, I got plenty of exercise running up and down those stairs.

---

The following day, we hit Rhyolite, a ghost town everyone should see at least once in their lifetime. Originally a gold mining town, it is now but an echo of its once former glory.  The place was peopled with gunfighters, saloon girls, ranchers, and miners.  You can hear the music, the guns, and the horses if you stand still long enough. Seriously, the silence is deafening and your ears can and will play tricks on you. I think...

<----- This loveseat, for lack of a better term, is made of cement, covered in glass, and sits outside in the desert waiting for someone to recreate her beauty. Moving it would be a near impossibility due to its weight. It's a shame to watch her fade in the sun and heat.

---

Left of the loveseat and more to the front of the road, sits the last supper. There are 13 sillouettes that greet you as you drive in. I thought they were ghosts, you know, ghost town and such, but discovered they were cast by Belgian sculptor Albert Szukalski. There was once a laser beam that shifted down the middle of the sillouettes depicting a table, but the desert wind destroyed it. Christ is in the middle and the twelve disciples stand to His side. It really is an amazing piece of art and the shock of it in the middle of the desert is quite amazing.

---

Here's a close up. I think the statues are made from plaster of Paris.

Rhyolite is a fair-sized town. To see it all requires quite a bit of walking. I did pretty well and was proud of myself for doing as much hiking as I did. Things that were impossible in December have become possible again since the introduction of Synthroid. It is amazing what our little thyroid gland does. Not only have I lost weight, I have so much energy, I left my sister-in-law in the dirt.

I have learned not to eat too much when heading out on an adventure. Eating can wait until evening when I'm closer to facilities. Sometimes, just a piece of bread or two will get me through. If I throw in some fruit, peeled of course, I'm doing OK. I just need to watch my sugar. Those lows are powerful. Best to keep some nuts on hand--mashed not whole.

---

After Rhyolite, we hit the cemetery. One full acre, give or take, of headstones made of marble, wood, and rock. Little ones, big ones, and double plots. Some were hookers, some gunfighters, some miners, some just regular people trying to live their lives. Kinda brought home the point about how none of us gets out alive.

---

The following day, we hit the valley floor, stopped for ice cream, drank lots of water, enjoyed the 93 degree heat. It was a bit much for my bro so we cut the trip short. Still, it was beautiful to see. We'd hoped for a few wildflowers and there were some, but not enough. You need to have a wet winter and what we had was not wet.

---

The following day saw us home. I appreciated the lake, the trees, the cool breath of air. Well, maybe not that much. I had to don my sweater and jeans as soon as I got out of the car. Still, I had done it. We'd crossed two states, made an emergency roadside stop, and laughed while doing it. We'd forgotten the one staple my sister-in-law and I needed. Toilet paper. Thank heaven for grouchy little men who own run-down bed and breakfasts.





Once again, I was confronted with a choice--stay home because of Crohn's disease--or head out into an adventure, accepting whatever happened to me. My one day wait on Humira was fine, my emergency supplies remained in their bag, and the only thing that really bothered me were the muscles in my thighs from running up and down those damn stairs.

(((hugs)))

Louann

---