Sun, Sangria… and Exhaustion: A Disabled Person’s Holiday

Navigating Spain with Long Covid taught me that adventure comes in small, carefully measured doses.

One thing I did not have to negotiate as a wheelchair user: Carrying my suitcases. Authors own photo.

Recently, I managed to go on holiday from England to Spain. This might not sound especially unusual, but thanks to my chronic illness, it required military-level planning, a step into the unknown, and I still ended up suffering.

In my early days of having Long Covid, I went to the same resort. It was around the time I was still in denial about my illness and thought that ‘pushing on through’ was the answer. To be fair, it’s what most well-meaning people still advise today, three years later. The holiday was incredibly stressful: I was constantly exhausted and felt guilty that I didn’t have the energy to do things like visit the waterpark with my children. I came home feeling deflated, but tanned.

This year, when the suggestion was made to go back, I was up for it. I had a point to prove. Two years on, I am now equipped with a full range of mobility aids, a rigorous coping mechanism, and family and friends who understand what I need. Surely, I thought, this was my time to do holidaying properly as a disabled person.

It turns out, I did, but it wasn’t all sangria and sun.

It was an experience to actually get on the plane in my wheelchair. The Gatwick staff were pretty good, and I was whisked through security and passport control at lightning speed. I felt like a VIP at times! The staff were helpful and attentive, letting me drive my electric wheelchair to the plane and then taking it away to be placed in the hold to fly with me.

I had some moments, especially at Alicante airport, when I was uncertain as to what to do. But mostly, people looked out for me, and I never really thought I was going to be stranded. It was an adventure that my family shared with me as well.

The holiday was lovely, and I managed to do most of the things I wanted. The thing about chronic fatigue is that, at home, I have carefully mapped out my days. I know exactly what I will be doing and how much energy I will expend. This planning is crucial, as I never know how much energy I will have when I wake up and need to tweak the day accordingly.

Holidays in the past have been a chance to relax, but now they present all kinds of challenges, most of them caused by a lack of routine. I often have no idea what we will be doing on any given day, and, crucially, how much energy it will cost me.

As an example, one day I decided to get in the swimming pool — something I haven’t done since long before Long Covid arrived. It felt like a triumph, and my family appreciated me being alongside them. The resistance of the water felt good on my aching legs as I splashed around and had fun. I even managed to get out and walk to the sunbed without slipping… much!

However, for the next two days, I was wiped out. It turns out swimming cost me a lot of energy, and the post-exertional malaise was significant enough to put a damper on any further thoughts of going in the pool. I was forced to rest for significant parts of the day.

It highlighted for me that even though I have been on this journey for a few years, I still have much to learn. Navigating a chronic illness that changes every day requires a flexible and open mind about what the day will hold, and that is not always easy.

So yes, I’ll go on holiday again, armed with my wheelchair, my energy plan and a healthy dose of humility. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll survive a full day in the pool next time.

---