Spain or Bust

Before my CF diagnosis (at age 67) I was hospitalized for 4 days on the usual antibiotics, nebulized medications, chest percussions and respiratory therapy visits. The steroid mania was at its height.

Best laid plans

I told my pulmonologist I was going to travel to Spain as soon as I left the hospital. He looked at me, gave an insincere smile, and said, "that's not a good idea".

I'm going. I'm going.

I left the hospital still coughing and wheezing and producing ugly sputum. But I knew I would be going to Spain.

Making it happen

I packed. I walked. I tried to build some stamina. We had plans to see Madrid, Barcelona and the Alhambra. I brushed up on my high school Spanish.

I'm happy to say I made that trip to Spain with two wonderful friends. It was an amazing experience. The Alhambra was exquisite, but also up a long flight of stairs. I think my friends pushed me up from behind.

Nightlife appealed to my friends in Madrid. I quietly bowed out and rested in my hotel room.

My friends respected my need for down time and I respected their need not to be inhibited by my presence.

Put Spain on your wish list. Heck! Put anywhere on your wish list.