Our last few days in NYC were spent mostly holed in in our borrowed Brooklyn apartment, loving on the cats, and trying to be healthy. Josh slept a lot, and watched Star Trek.
The friend we were catsitting for actually returned early, staying at a friends house, because she broke her leg while on her Utah adventure and kept it secret for well over a week, for fear that we would change our plans. (Plus she really was not ready to be in her apartment alone). I was really sad to hear she was so injured, but pretty glad to get to have takeout with her one evening and catch up! (and meet the other important family in her life)
Saturday we were sitting in the apartment and and I started hearing the sound of marching bands sneaking in through the open windows. It turns out that Brooklyn puts on a spectacular Ragamuffin Parade each year, which is a fantastic combination of costume parade mixed with school groups marching together. I am glad I left the apartment to follow the marching band sounds and behold this community fun!The next day the fun continued with the annual 3rd Street Festival, which was just booth after booth of local businesses, food, organizations and vendors. I started with the intention of walking the entire length of the festival, until I asked NYPD how many blocks it spanned. He thought 31 blocks! I had a grand time walking, chatting, and soaking in the small community festival feel.
One of the booths I paused at was Lularoe clothing,which I had admired on friends feeds, but not been sold on until I touched them. Clothing is difficult sometimes with fibromyalgia. Anything binding is agony, seams can feel like thorns rubbing areas raw, and textures mean so much when your skin feels every sensation amplified. I have to say that feeling how soft the fabric was made my brain pop a little, and I came home with a Perfect T, Carly dress, and 2 pairs of fantastic butter soft leggings.
Monday was departure day. I had spent a lot of spoons trying to clean our friends apartment and leave her with a "Herrick Free" black clean slate to return home to recover in. We were pretty happy to get to the airport and to our gate. The last few days felt a bit too long, with his illness and my fibro. (Remember this was travel day 17/18!)
We flew off into the sunset, literally, and headed home to Colorado.
Landing was hard. Not in the airplane, but in life. I had been going and going for 17/18 days. Though I had down days, rest days, paced myself really well and didn't kick myself into a flair while traveling by overdoing it, I was beyond exhausted when we got home. It took me 2 days to unpack my dirty clothes. I ached, I was so very fatigued, but I was also quite satisfied. It was a good journey, with fantastic memories!
2 weeks after getting home I am on antibiotics with a terrible respiratory illness that has settled in my chest. I wonder if I was exposed to a strong virus on my travels, if I wore myself out to the point that I just couldn't fight off a standard bug well, or if it was the first inevitable autumnal virus. I just know that I am struggling to get off the couch right now. The idea that 3 weeks ago I was exploring Ellis Island with my youngest child seems so foreign.
That is what is so very difficult to convey about living with fibromyalgia. We can carry on like a whole healthy person for a short time. However you probably only see us on those good days, because the hard days are so very hard that we hole up, are fairly isolated. I can't even imagine that the same body I am coughing painfully in, sleeping 12 or more hours a day in, was walking on the Brooklyn bridge with a small window of time where it felt strong, whole, and pain free.
Really, I am still relishing that feeling of such freedom that I had that day. I really felt like I could have walked forever, for about 2 hours, and then I could barely walk anywhere. But walking on that bridge, with the wind blowing, my son smiling, and the city in front of us was worth everything!
So now to recover for the next adventure.
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