How hard can it be?

I had to make a trip to the shop today. For the past 2-3 weeks I've been dealing with a particularly stubborn respiratory infection which has made getting around even inside the flat.. interesting.. to say the least. Frustrating and extremely irritating to find myself out of breath from simply taking the few steps from sofa to bathroom or kitchen:  and since I have spent most of the past 3 days asleep, I was determined to get this done.  I knew it would take me a good while to walk there, so... out came the bike: and (bloody minded as I am) I set off on the 5 minute ride.
Except, because of the state I am in right now, it was more like 10 minutes, with me coughing and wheezing almost the whole way there: dragging myself around the shop like a 95 year old, and then taking a good 15 minutes to ride back (mostly uphill). It took me at least an hour to recover, and I was too exhausted to actually cook anything, so I ended up ordering takeout.. although that will last me at least 2 days, so I refuse to feel too guilty about it.

I hate being ill. I particularly hate being ill if it means that I struggle even more to do the day to day stuff. Living completely alone for pretty much the first time ever: having no family or friends nearby... being ill is not an option for me..  minor ailments are an inconvenience:  more severe problems curtail everything. Yes, I can go online and shop if I'm not well enough to go out and do it in person:  but what if all I need is a pint of milk?  or a loaf of bread?  do I really want to pay up to £5 to have that delivered?

it sounds like such a small thing when I say it.. but to be struggling so badly for even this long, is actually frightening. It reminds me that I am getting older:  it makes me think about how things could be in 15 years, or 20.  And it made me think also about how much I value my independence.   There are areas of my life when I am limited by disability: there are things that I find difficult on a daily basis. Days when I dress in pull-on skirts, and teeshirts or sweaters, because I don't want the embarrassment of having to fumble with fasteners. For the same reason, I have many pairs of laceless shoes... for those days when my fingers and hands are too stiff and painful, or too clumsy to allow me to tie a shoelace in less than 8 or 9 attempts: or to fight a button into place. it makes me feel old and slow and stupid, and I hate it. So I make ways around it... and the same applies to my travels.  when I am having the very worst of times, and I feel that my body is failing me, I have no choice but to accept it, and make use of the services offered to me:  less so on the days when I have a little more control and a little less pain. Its all a matter of degrees.  However much I might wish it, my difficulties will not go away: but there are ways that I can circumvent them, or avoid having to surrender to them entirely. Adapt and survive in a small way.

So.. I begin to plan for my next trip. I'm already familiarising myself with the website for an airport I never used before: I have looked up details of the hotels closest to it, because it will make more sense for me to travel there the day before the flight, and maybe for once, I should try to get a decent rest the night before so that I am rested for the flight, and can arrive looking a little less frazzled and exhausted.  I'm already making lists of the little I might need to take with me; and looking for trains and shuttles.  There is an excitement in it; an anticipation that I love. And of course, the knowledge that it means I get to spend a little more time with one who means the world to me.  in my head, I;m already on my way