I used to pride myself on traveling light. It was a skill I cultivated through years of hosteling and backpacking. I travelled with 2-3 changes of clothes, basic toiletries, one towel, a journal, a book or two, a phone charger, a flashlight, a first aid kit, and a wallet. It all fit into a green backpack. It is remarkable how thrifty you can get with your belongings when you have to carry them around, when you unpack and repack it all every day to move to a new city. Even when I was older and visiting friends or staying in a hotel, I never brought much. It was a hard habit to break.
When I was able to start traveling again in 2014, this phenomenon resurfaced into a new form. I packed light on clothes and toiletries because I needed so much space for the massive amount of medication and medical supplies I had to bring with me. When I went to China, I brought a nesting set of three suitcases, a shoulder bag, and the backpack that holds my IV fluids and infusion pump. I packed three changes of clothes, one pair of shoes, a journal, a flashlight, a toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner, an iPad, a plug adaptor, an electrical converter, and a charger. I couldn’t fit anything else with three weeks worth of supplies and meds. I actually had to buy some more clothes and toiletries when I got to Hong Kong.
Having that much luggage – and heavy luggage at that – stresses me out. I can’t pull all of it around without someone else helping me. I often can’t lift it. I’m always worried I’ll forget something and not notice until I’m there because it is so much to pack and there’s much stuff in there to see what I missed just by opening and looking. I have checklists but it still makes me apprehensive.
I’m not the only one who feels like I pack way too much stuff even if it is all necessary. Airlines think so, too.
I have written prolifically about the trouble I have when checking in at airports. Every time, they want me to do or have done something different. No amount of talking to disability services or ADA lines has helped because the airlines give a lot of authority to the supervisor there when you present. It played out mostly the same way it always does. I cried. What I will add is this new fun fact: if you are wondering how to get the supervisor to stop treating you like a piece of shit and help you, the answer is to start filming. Her demeanor changed so fast I almost got whiplash.
The airline argued with me for so long that I almost missed my flight. Getting through TSA was a nightmare and much worse than usual. There was no time to get anything to eat or drink and I was literally the last person boarded because of how long the airline held me up. But historically my travel woes mostly resolve once I’m on the plane and I was still headed to Mexico so things were looking up. Some kind passengers helped me with my luggage so I could get out appropriate meds and get settled.
I landed in Mexico and got through immigration and customs without any trouble. But when I found the company that was supposed to transfer me to my resort, they had no record of me. I was very glad to be able to speak Spanish at that point because it took a lot of back and forth. They ultimately found that I was booked for the wrong date but agreed to just take me anyway. Great. I got into the bus with my millions of pounds of luggage and we headed to the resort about 45 minutes away.
So then I arrived at the resort which had my reservation listed as starting four days later and things got really exciting. I had to shell out $1400 to even get into a room while it was being sorted out or they were literally going to turn me and my rare diseases and 17 suitcases full of IV bags away and we would have to walk home through the jungle where it is 400 degrees and even the trees sweat. It was over an hour before they even agreed that I could HAVE a room at all. To say I was alarmed is putting it gently.
I figured that once I got into a room, my travel agent and the hotel would be able to sort this all out and I would get a refund. That has not happened. After a very stressful back and forth with the travel agent, I asked her to stop texting me and just let me know when I would get my refund. I explained about my health and that this situation was just too stressful and to please just let me know when it was taken care of.
She didn’t stop and even though I didn’t read the texts, it was the final straw. My port was deaccessed so that I could go swimming so I had to give myself an IM injection of Benadryl and steroids at the pool. I went back to my room to access my port and hook up IV rescue meds and fluids. Fortunately, I did not have anaphylaxis. The meds worked and I bounced back. I told her to stop texting me and just email me about the refund when it is ready. I blocked her number and went to go sit on the beach.
It has been a long time since I have been able to travel alone. I’m not really alone here (I came for a wedding so some of my friends are here, too) but I’m alone in the sense that I don’t have anyone with me most of the time. In my mind, this trip is sort of a test run to see if I could maybe travel on my own again. If it goes well, I could maybe try a short trip somewhere else on my own. I love traveling alone. I miss it a lot.
In science, when we want to see how well things work, we do something called latitude testing, sort of testing worst case scenarios to try and “break” the system. This is how you learn how far the system can be pushed before it stops working right. This trip has levied a pretty good attempt at breaking my system. It has been stressful and frustrating. My body is reacting to that. But I have safeguards built into my system and they are working. I had rescue meds right there. I was able to respond quickly and keep myself safe. I was in control in the way that I needed to be. I was stressed but not scared.
All the reservations/money nonsense aside, this place is stunningly beautiful. It is warm and breezy and the night air is perfect for walking. The chefs have been super attentive to my food allergies and I haven’t had any trouble with food. My minibar is stocked with Mexican Coke and my safe potato chips.
Things will work themselves out. Or they won’t. I’m sure I’ll be fine.
