‘It won’t always be like this’.
I’m awake in the wee hours, again feeling nausea. I’ve had it on and off for a while and it’s getting me down. In the throws of discomfort it’s hard to have the imagination that I’ll feel normal again. This feels like the new normal.
It’s 7am and I’m feeling rested and a bit better. It’s a frigid morning, there’s frost around my tent. I walk as fast as my body will let me in attempt to warm up. It’s a struggle – I need to keep stopping to catch my breath. It’s hard to imagine feeling warm again.
But just as the frozen grasses and wild flowers by my feet thaw out from their frosty shells – so in time do I. In time the sun shines on my skin and it warms me through.
As I walk up a hill I see a couple with a dog sitting watching me. They ask me how I’m doing and I can’t lie. After a short chat and several throws of a stick for the dog, it turns out they are both A&E nurses. They are convinced I have altitude sickness ( we are at about 8900 ft). They give me anti emetics and encourage me to drink lots and rest as much as I can.
And I’m now tucked up in my sleeping bag at 7:30 pm, having walked a short 16 mile day. I’m feeling much better physically. And I feel relief in knowing it won’t always feel and be like this. This has been a hard few days with slow progress but I drift off to sleep with hope.
This feels like a universal message but a hard one to feel in your bones. Circumstances may be hard and it may be hard to have the imagination for change – but it won’t always be like this.