Road tripping preparations

My husband and I are planning for a two week road trip through British Columbia, Canada, our home province. It got me thinking back to my article on how to bring more comfort to our daily lives. I have a few new items on my list of preparations for the hours we’ll be spending on the road, the different climates, and the nights in unfamiliar beds.

This trip will be a much-needed vacation for the both of us. Perhaps ‘distraction’ is the better word. Though I’ve been the one adjusting to a new life centered around pain management, Josh has had to adjust in his own ways. He’s taken responsibility of attending evermore of our daily chores, including cooking and preparing most of our meals, washing dishes, the majority of the cleaning duties, dog walking, and, until I hear back from disability assistance, also being the sole income in a, hopefully temporary, single-income household. I’m mostly excited for him to get a rest, but I’m also looking forward to a break in the monotony of a life in recovery.

What do I want out of this?

This is where I get to set my expectations for the journey. And, because there are two of us, Josh sets his own, then we compare and compromise as needed.

My primary goal for the trip is to fill up my cup labelled “human connection”. It’s an important cup to me, yet it’s been a few drops away from empty for some time now. Short visits with friends and neighbours are all that keeps it from drying out completely, leaving enough in the cup to swirl around, like the last sip of beer at the bottom of the can.

We’ll be visiting with a mixture of family and friends, some that I haven’t seen in the 4 years since I left Vancouver Island, B.C. I wonder if it will be a challenge for me to visit with friends in new ways. The last time I hung out with many of them was during some sort of activity, a climb, hike, bike, or paddle. Will I feel that old familiar pang to push myself for more fun and adventure? Or will I have learned from my mistakes and listen to my body’s signals?

Another expectation of mine is to practise being human again as a precursor to assessing my ability to return to work. I have noticed some improvements in my ability to notice toxic thought patterns about the pain that cause me to spiral into despair and shut down mentally, but I’ve been running an experiment in a sanitary environment, my home. What happens when I go out into public, the city, and run into obstacles there? I need to expose myself to situations where I’m not in control and pay attention to how my brain and body react. I’m hopeful that I’ve progressed well, though I know I have a long road ahead of me. I want to be both realistic about my expectations and gentle with myself in honouring my needs in any given moment.

For the road

We’re going to be spending a lot of time in the car, with the longest leg of the journey between destinations taking approximately 7-8 hours. So first and foremost, LOTS OF BREAKS. I’m thinking I might even set a timer on my phone to help remind us to stop every 1-2 hours for as much as 5-10mins at a time, enough to stretch my tissues and move my joints. It will add time on our trip that’s for sure, but I know that my body will be more relaxed and less fatigued when we get to our destinations.

A good way to pass the time is to listen to something captivating on the radio. Josh and I love to read and we love audiobooks. I’ve recently found joy in listening to podcasts as well, a little late to join the party, but nonetheless satisfying. Podcasts are also a great tool for home. I can only watch so much TV and sometimes reading is not an option if my neck is flaring. It’s great to sit back in a comfy chair and let my mind create scenes to go with the words and sounds that I’m hearing.

The cost of the trip is going to be worth the memories and experiences we gain, but it won’t be negligible either. A cooler and small camp stove for food and drink will help us save on the cost of small meals and daily coffees. I’m hopeful as well that packing our own food and brewing our own coffee for the first few days will provide some ease to my digestion. I’d like to avoid the bloating, gas, and panicky feeling of needing to find a toilet, that comes from eating and drinking unfamiliar food and coffee. Navigating the pain during this trip will likely be more than enough without adding digestive system flare ups into the mix.

For the climate

If you’ve travelled around British Columbia, or Canada for that matter, you might have noticed a wide range of climates. In the province of B.C., you can go from dry mountains, to rolling desert, to frozen tundra, to coastal rainforest. We’ll be spending the majority of our time in the coastal rainforest of the southwest, in areas known as the Lower Mainland and Vancouver Island.

For anyone that deals with a similar type of pain, you can imagine how a cold, damp climate could affect you. I hear people laugh when Islanders complain of cold when it’s 5º Celsius, while parts of the province are getting freezing temperatures of -30ºC. I lived on Vancouver Island for ten years and I never got used to the damp cold. A damp 5º chills me deep into my bones, causing me to shiver unceasingly. While a dry, sunny -20ºC requires only that you cover up the skin you don’t want to freeze, but otherwise can enjoy the warmth of the sun and dry air.

Even though I desperately want to wear all my most flattering clothes while away, I know that layering up will be better suited to fight the chill. Base layers, comfy sweaters, and thick socks will be a staple to any outfit if the temperature doesn’t rise dramatically before we arrive. At the same time, I’m trying to limit my personal items to a mid-sized suitcase to save on space in my hatchback Honda CR-V (there is no chance we’re taking the more spacious truck with these fuel prices). That’d be for clothes, grooming amenities, and health care items like my Spoonk Acupressure Mat, cannabis kit, heating pad, and medication. Sweaters and small(er) suitcases sure make it more challenging to fit everything I want to bring. Though when I think about what I truly need to bring, I’m able to pare it down. I find it true that I usually only wear a handful of clothing items in the end, leaving the rest untouched.

For the home away from home

When picking out our sleeping arrangements, my new first question is: “Is there a bed?” Followed closely by: “What kind of bed?” Long gone are the days when I would simply show up at my destination, happy enough to access whatever I could get for a bed: lumpy mattress, saggy futon, big comfy couch, or a pad on the floor. (In fact, in my last semester of the Forestry Technician program, I slept on a yoga mat and camping pad on the floor in my room. Having just sold off all my furniture during the previous move, I chose to sleep on the floor rather than spend the money on a new bed, which, in my price range, would not have been much comfort anyways. I’ve since discovered that I like very firm mattresses to help support my aching body, perhaps why sleeping on the floor didn’t bother me much then.)

Let me be clear that I’m not only accepting first class accommodations from my gracious hosts. What I am doing is looking at all the options available to me and picking the best one for my needs at this time. For example, if we’re offered a soft futon, but I notice they have a nice firm couch, I’ll see if I can sleep on the couch while Josh takes the futon.

I spent years looking for the right pillow. I am finally confident in saying that I found “the One” for me. It’s a thick gel pillow so it will take up some space in the car, but I know it will be well worth it.

Remember, you’re on vacation

I’m perpetually adding names and places to our list of potential visits when on the road. There are definitely a few must dos (especially the ones where we have to catch our ferry!), but the others I am looking at as nice to have’s. I’m doing this so that I give myself a LOT of flexibility in the event that I need to rest. I want to ensure that I have many free hours between visits and even a few free days throughout the trip.

You can be sure that I’ll be documenting my favourite, and not so favourite, moments with pen and paper while I’m away so I can write a follow-up article on how it all went.

Do you travel regularly for work or school? Or do you like to take long road trips? What are some of the ways you manage pain and mental capacity while away?