22 - Travel

You can listen to this post instead! Audio found here.

I’m sitting on a plane right now. I’m going back to Winnipeg for the holidays, for a month. Bob is coming with me (of course). It’s his fourth time flying to Winnipeg - he goes in cargo. I’ve got the window seat, as I do, and almost exactly one year ago I was on this same flight, Bob in cargo, headed back to Winnipeg for the first time in about four years. This is one of those milestone moments - a point in time perfectly set up for me to reflect on everything that’s happened in the past year: how much has changed, what has stayed the same and how I’ve progressed in my recovery.

Yet what I’m currently thinking about is vomiting.

Now, I’m not sure how your mind justified that last sentence - if your thoughts were able to paint a gross picture that connected what has been said to make sense of the matter. But it’s likely that whatever you were thinking was not what I was intending.

Try instead picturing a young Krystal. Like, six years old. My family went to Disney World for the first time with some family friends. I was the youngest of all the kids and since I was a baby I had always been finicky about food, whether it was going in or coming out. In fact, my parents say that almost every time my dad came home from work, my greeting was to puke on him.

At six years old I was very scheduled in my eating. Even to this day if I miss a regular meal time and get too hungry, I get nauseous. But often those food schedules aren’t respected when traveling. Plus it seems coming down with some sort of bug is more likely when on a trip. Indeed, while we were on that vacation in Disney World, my mom and I had caught a flu. It makes me wonder if all those mascot costumes I hugged could substitute as a petri dish of kid excrement…

One night on this joint family vacation, it was decided that we would eat dinner at a fancy restaurant. The quality of food being lost on an ill 6-year-old Krystal, I was not happy waiting in that long line up in the restaurant entrance hall. All I remember is feeling very unwell and looking around at the white walls, white floors and white decorations, sometimes accented with a bit of blue. I remember turning to my mom and opening my mouth to say I was about to be sick when to my surprise, instead of words, vomit came spewing out in projectile fashion. My puke covered my surroundings as if they were painting a blank canvas, accenting the decorations with more than just blue, while adding a new hue to the off-white dress suit of the person in line in front of me. My mom rushed me off to the bathroom and cleaned me up.

You would think this would be the end of that evening. But the kicker to this story?? WE DIDN’T LEAVE THE RESTAURANT. We stayed and ate dinner.

Yum.

Sitting in my airplane seat now, I am reminded of this embarrassing story as I’m thinking about the memorable moments I’ve had traveling, for better or for worse.

I have been very lucky to have travelled a lot in my lifetime thus far. As a kid, as a teen and as an adult I have driven across much of Canada and the US as well as flown within the continent and overseas. I’ve seen a lot of different towns, cities and landscapes. I’ve camped, stayed with friends and relatives as well as in hotels and all-inclusive resorts. There’s just something about exploring, whether in my own city, close to home or far away that makes me happy; that makes me feel better connected with others; that boosts my confidence and helps me better understand myself. And yes, I bring Bob as often as I can too.

Any travel experience can incur some sort of conflict - travel delays, arguments amongst travel buddies, bad weather, lost items, food poisoning, etc. But on top of that, the brain injury does make travel more challenging, if not at times impossible. Stimulation in the form of bright or busy sites, loud, obnoxious or repetitive noises and doing multiple activities in one day can all stimulate my symptoms. Travel therefore becomes like a jackpot of triggers. When I first got my concussion, I had a hard time leaving my apartment never mind my neighbourhood or the city. Travel was just another meaningful life activity I had to strike off the list of “Do” and move to the list of “Do not.”

Travel involves a lot of activities. And I’m not talking about visiting museums, going on tours or dining at fancy restaurants. I’m talking about your average every day activities: commuting, planning a schedule, doing laundry, cleaning out the bathroom, kitchen and garbage before leaving, planning meals, carrying luggage, waking up to an alarm, looking up itineraries online, keeping track of travel documents, messaging people to let them know you’ll be away or that you are coming to visit, walking for longer than usual, following directions on a map, and so on and so on…

Admittedly, by the time I got on the plane today, I felt unwell. For a moment this shocked me. Then I realized all the brain energy I used today emptying the fridge, having a shower, washing the dishes, taking out the garbage, assembling Bob’s travel crate, getting around the airport, etc. 

Because I did this same trip last year, I was prepared for my reaction when the plane took off. Last year as the plane was gaining in altitude and I tried to look out the window, I was hit with an immediate feeling of dizziness and pressure in the head - like a rod was slowly pressing down into my skull. It felt moderately intense until the plane levelled out. The rest of the in-air flight was fine, though I experienced something less intense at landing. When I got my luggage and Bob (because of course Bob came last year too!), I overall felt fine. That evening I was exhausted and symptomatic, but I was also ecstatic to know that I could do it - I could actually travel.

Since that trip back to Winnipeg last year, I have been on a few road trips: one to visit a friend in a smaller town, one for an improv conference and one to a city I already knew for a romantic weekend away. Each one of these was just a short trip somewhere mostly familiar and close by to help build my travel resilience once more. Through these initial travel experiments I have discovered ways to make travel easier for me with PCS.

All the prep that goes into travel can be exhausting, but for me with PCS it’s even more challenging. I have to start prepping earlier, relinquish control over things I would normally like to do (like look up places to stay and visit) and I have to simplify what I bring. I also have to lower my expectation of what I want to get done before going - it’s OK if not all the plants get watered or if I come back to overflowing recycling and a messy bed.

I have found it immensely helpful travelling with people who aim to understand my situation and who are ready to make accommodations. On all my road trips this past year, the people I was with regularly checked in with me. They made time for rest and took charge of making decisions that were too much brain energy for me to make at the time.

I’ve noticed that the excitement of being able to explore again can counteract my anxiety. However the anxiety increases if I have too many travel activities or new sights and sounds to experience in sequence. I shall never underestimate the importance of a good nap or retreating to the bathroom in a public place to close my eyes, take a few deep breaths and momentarily shut down. To prevent more symptoms and anxiety when I get back home, I have found that I need to give myself “sick days.” I need to take extra rest to recover before getting back into my usual day-to-day activities.

Finally, routine is what’s best for my injured brain, though travel abolishes that. Having at least one or two elements of familiarity is helpful for me. This may be daily naps, doing yoga, eating my usual breakfast, taking moments to focus on my breath or pulling out my journal to do some writing :-) These things help anchor me in my reality when my reality has been temporarily changed to one that is more stimulating and more triggering.

All in all I’m super proud of today. The memory of six-year-old me spewing aside, I did have some truly introspective moments reflecting back to last year and how far I’ve come. Last year I was quite nervous making my way through the airport with my sunglasses and earplugs on. Today my eyes and ears were naked. Going through the busy and bustling security check today I realized how relaxed I was. One year ago I was cognizant of everything going on around me and how overwhelming the environment was. This year while waiting for my flight, I was online making plans with friends. Last year I wasn’t sure how much or even if I could commit to plans with others. Looking back, it seems that although I may have physically travelled a few times this past year, I have truly been on a journey every day to get me to where I am today.

We’re slowly approaching Winnipeg, soon to start the descent. My travels have just begun and my journey with PCS is likely still far from over. Last year when I was in Winnipeg for the holidays, I did have about one panic attack a week due to all the change and brain limits I was testing. I remember some intense symptomatic moments and needing to take rest days. After my road trip to the improv conference, I didn’t rest when I got back home - I kept up the same pace, which contributed to a setback in my recovery. After other road trips I’ve experienced such exhaustion I’ve had a hard time even feeding myself or getting to bed. And with the drastic change in my daily environment and routine, I can forget to take my medication, which throws off my mental health game.

I may be progressing and I may be able to do more the more I travel, but I need to remember to not panic when my travels accentuate my bad days. The destabilization of routine is one of the things I actually like about travel, even though this is often the primer for uncomfortable, challenging and embarrassing moments. This is true for anyone, with or without a brain injury. So maybe one day I’ll look back on these challenging moments travelling with PCS with the same comedic fondness I do looking back at stories about projectile vomiting with class.

Best in brain health,

- Krystal 

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it! You can also support the work I do here by visiting my Patreon page here.  Cheers.