I’m special. At least, I get reminders of this constantly. It’s like when someone asks you why you’re walking funny, when in your own mind you were just walking. How was I walking? Was I dragging my feet? Did I swing my arms wildly?
Life in cancer recovery is constant frustration. All I want is to be normal. I mostly feel normal. But then every once in awhile the universe taps me on the shoulder and reminds me that I’m not quite there yet.
I’ve just returned from the most grueling work trip I’ve ever done. Basically, me, my boss, and my co-worker, just did a two-week cross-country traveling wine festival. With 10 European winemakers in tow. It only sounds fun because of the alcohol content. A grueling, tight travel schedule, zero lunches, long days and longer nights, dragged-out dinner affairs, etc. It was a small glimpse of the rock tour life, and it sucks.
There is a rhythm and routine to my recovery. Exercise, diet, supplements, regular sleep, etc. Being on a rocking wine tour was the antithesis to any and all of that. There’s not enough gas in my tank to keep up that pace.
And on top of that, I stopped drinking 17 months ago. I might as well be producing a tour promoting responsible opioid usage, that’s basically how I feel about the actual content. More power to them, but it’s not for me anymore.
It’s time to find another path to walk on. Where I can swing my arms however I want.