I recently went on vacation with my boyfriend, Devin. It was the first time I had been on a "real" trip since my diagnosis two years ago. I've been on six hour car rides since then, visiting friends from college or for other reasons, but my destinations were always familiar, and they were always in the United States. Devin and I wanted to go on a "real" vacation; one that involved a plane ride. We decided on a tropical type scene as I had never experienced a vacation of that type. We thought about going to the Caribbean, (Devin really wanted a beach getaway), but I've always been one for adventure/activity, so we opted for something that could give us a little bit of both: Costa Rica.
I've been lucky enough to travel a decent amount in my lifetime so far. I've seen a decent amount of the United States, studied abroad in Malawi, Africa, and been to parts of Europe (Paris, Barcelona, Munich, and most of Italy). You'd think going to a new country would be no problem, except for the fact that I had never traveled with Crohn's Disease.
The last time I'd really taken a trip it was to Italy. It was my graduation gift from my family and we spent ten days touring the country. It was in Rome that I actually started to really feel the effects of what would soon after be diagnosed as Crohn's. In hindsight I could report symptoms that I wasn't really aware I was having a couple months before this trip, but it was during this trip that the debilitating stomach pains and many trips to the bathroom started occurring. My father suggested that I had some GURD going on, or heart burn, or acid reflux. He thought it was probably from being in another country and eating their food, but I reminded him that I had traveled to France, and Spain, and Germany, and Malawi, where I ate mustard greens and nsima (a play dough consistency, tasteless, corn meal product). I never had any of the issues there that I was currently having in Italy. Upon returning to the United States I sought doctors and eventually received by diagnosis.
Now, in planning our trip to Costa Rica, my strategy was completely different than it would have been a couple of years ago. The one thing I was determined about though, was to not let Crohn's take away from my trip, prevent me from doing things, or from going to certain places. This mentality perhaps should have had some consideration, but I'll get to that later.
I was completely prepared, as much as I could have prepared myself. I packed portable heat pads in case of stomach pains. I packed stomach friendly food bars in case Spanish Costa Rica was filled with corn products. I couldn't be prepared for my current medical status. I haven't been feeling my best. Actually, I've been feeling quite shitty if I'm honest. But I wasn't going to cancel my trip.
Our flight left Boston and landed in Miami, where we would board another plane to San Jose. We left home at 3am Boston time, 1am Costa Rica time. I knew we were to arrive in Costa Rica around noon, and had to wait three hours until our ride was picking us up to drive us another four hours to our final destination of Puerto Viejo. What I didn't prepare for was the fever that picked up with about 20 minutes left of our second flight. I was shivering out of control even as we went outside to wait in the 85 degree plus humidity weather. I told myself I just had to wait the three hours until our ride came. I actively kept calm as I didn't want to stress myself out and trigger more symptoms. I made it to 3pm Costa Rica time and our ride had found us, but reported that we were going to have to wait until 3:30 for some lady and a baby (his English was not very good, and my Spanish is equally as bad). Devin an I both started to become frustrated. It was hard to keep calm after being up since the night before and having already waited so long. Long story short, we didn't get to leave the airport until 4:30. I had really wanted to get to our destination before dark but the sun was going to set by the time it was 6:00. Once I was in the van I had calmed some. My fever had dissipated and we were on our way. Devin had also been really stressed and he had never been in a driving scene like Costa Rica (I had, as Malawi was quite similar). So while he fell asleep, I relaxed and enjoyed the trek through the mountains; the scenery was beautiful! I could tell that my stomach was beginning to act up. I was also getting hungry. I had only eaten an egg sandwich in Miami the entire day. I actively calmed myself as we still had quite the drive ahead of us. With about an hour and a half left, Devin woke from his nap and seemed to have calmed, himself. It was then that our driver stopped the van and got out without a single word to us. With the language barrier around us, and no idea where we were, and my stomach really started to act up, I was having difficulty controlling my anxiety. The driver came to the side of the car and told us that someone had died in the road and it would be about an hour until we would be able to move.
I was tired. I had been up for about 18 hours traveling. I was hungry. I was in a new country, in the dark, and in the hands of a man that had earlier appeared to have been lost and could not effectively communicate to us. I had known that there were little to no public restrooms available, but had not expected this occurrence. I had a mental breakdown. My stomach seared in pain, and between that and the stress of everything, I started to cry. I won't even lie about it. In hindsight it's a little embarrassing, but in the moment it felt legit. My crying made my stomach hurt more, and my stomach hurting just added to the anxiety of the moment. There was nothing more I could do but sleep. I laid with my head on Devin's lap and I slept. I woke briefly when we began moving again, but then forced myself into slumber until we finally reached our resort.
Once we arrived, everything fell into place. Our resort was amazing. (Caribe Town Resort, Playa Cocles, Costa Rica). The woman I had been in contact with before our trip, the woman who ran the resort, was just as awesome as she seemed through email. Our bungalow was a comforting retreat. Of course the first thing I did was rush to the bathroom. And we had a great time! The funny thing about the rest of my trip, is that my stomach did better there than it does at home! I couldn't figure it out. I was eating out every day. I was eating a lot of raw, acidic fruit that was always just kind of handed to us, and I was doing active things, such as hiking and zip lining. But alas, there was only one real morning that I felt the need to take things a little slow, and to not eat as much due to pain. Weird, I know. Since I've recently been switched to Humira, I thought maybe it was starting to kick in and work (I'd been on it for about a month). Turns out that wasn't the case, since as soon as I returned to the United States, my flare symptoms returned in full force, and actually slightly worse than they were before I went on my trip.
So I suppose the moral of my trip is: Don't let Crohn's hold you back from fun activities such as swimming, or hiking, or zip lining, but don't put yourself in situations that could easily be problematic, such as four hour car rides in a foreign country with a lack of public bathrooms and English speaking people. Though that first 12 or so hours of my trip was fairly miserable, I would return to Costa Rica, as the people were amazing, the country is beautiful, and there is much more to see and explore there. Perhaps the experience will cause me to plan better on my next trip!
I've been lucky enough to travel a decent amount in my lifetime so far. I've seen a decent amount of the United States, studied abroad in Malawi, Africa, and been to parts of Europe (Paris, Barcelona, Munich, and most of Italy). You'd think going to a new country would be no problem, except for the fact that I had never traveled with Crohn's Disease.
The last time I'd really taken a trip it was to Italy. It was my graduation gift from my family and we spent ten days touring the country. It was in Rome that I actually started to really feel the effects of what would soon after be diagnosed as Crohn's. In hindsight I could report symptoms that I wasn't really aware I was having a couple months before this trip, but it was during this trip that the debilitating stomach pains and many trips to the bathroom started occurring. My father suggested that I had some GURD going on, or heart burn, or acid reflux. He thought it was probably from being in another country and eating their food, but I reminded him that I had traveled to France, and Spain, and Germany, and Malawi, where I ate mustard greens and nsima (a play dough consistency, tasteless, corn meal product). I never had any of the issues there that I was currently having in Italy. Upon returning to the United States I sought doctors and eventually received by diagnosis.
Now, in planning our trip to Costa Rica, my strategy was completely different than it would have been a couple of years ago. The one thing I was determined about though, was to not let Crohn's take away from my trip, prevent me from doing things, or from going to certain places. This mentality perhaps should have had some consideration, but I'll get to that later.
I was completely prepared, as much as I could have prepared myself. I packed portable heat pads in case of stomach pains. I packed stomach friendly food bars in case Spanish Costa Rica was filled with corn products. I couldn't be prepared for my current medical status. I haven't been feeling my best. Actually, I've been feeling quite shitty if I'm honest. But I wasn't going to cancel my trip.
Our flight left Boston and landed in Miami, where we would board another plane to San Jose. We left home at 3am Boston time, 1am Costa Rica time. I knew we were to arrive in Costa Rica around noon, and had to wait three hours until our ride was picking us up to drive us another four hours to our final destination of Puerto Viejo. What I didn't prepare for was the fever that picked up with about 20 minutes left of our second flight. I was shivering out of control even as we went outside to wait in the 85 degree plus humidity weather. I told myself I just had to wait the three hours until our ride came. I actively kept calm as I didn't want to stress myself out and trigger more symptoms. I made it to 3pm Costa Rica time and our ride had found us, but reported that we were going to have to wait until 3:30 for some lady and a baby (his English was not very good, and my Spanish is equally as bad). Devin an I both started to become frustrated. It was hard to keep calm after being up since the night before and having already waited so long. Long story short, we didn't get to leave the airport until 4:30. I had really wanted to get to our destination before dark but the sun was going to set by the time it was 6:00. Once I was in the van I had calmed some. My fever had dissipated and we were on our way. Devin had also been really stressed and he had never been in a driving scene like Costa Rica (I had, as Malawi was quite similar). So while he fell asleep, I relaxed and enjoyed the trek through the mountains; the scenery was beautiful! I could tell that my stomach was beginning to act up. I was also getting hungry. I had only eaten an egg sandwich in Miami the entire day. I actively calmed myself as we still had quite the drive ahead of us. With about an hour and a half left, Devin woke from his nap and seemed to have calmed, himself. It was then that our driver stopped the van and got out without a single word to us. With the language barrier around us, and no idea where we were, and my stomach really started to act up, I was having difficulty controlling my anxiety. The driver came to the side of the car and told us that someone had died in the road and it would be about an hour until we would be able to move.
I was tired. I had been up for about 18 hours traveling. I was hungry. I was in a new country, in the dark, and in the hands of a man that had earlier appeared to have been lost and could not effectively communicate to us. I had known that there were little to no public restrooms available, but had not expected this occurrence. I had a mental breakdown. My stomach seared in pain, and between that and the stress of everything, I started to cry. I won't even lie about it. In hindsight it's a little embarrassing, but in the moment it felt legit. My crying made my stomach hurt more, and my stomach hurting just added to the anxiety of the moment. There was nothing more I could do but sleep. I laid with my head on Devin's lap and I slept. I woke briefly when we began moving again, but then forced myself into slumber until we finally reached our resort.
Once we arrived, everything fell into place. Our resort was amazing. (Caribe Town Resort, Playa Cocles, Costa Rica). The woman I had been in contact with before our trip, the woman who ran the resort, was just as awesome as she seemed through email. Our bungalow was a comforting retreat. Of course the first thing I did was rush to the bathroom. And we had a great time! The funny thing about the rest of my trip, is that my stomach did better there than it does at home! I couldn't figure it out. I was eating out every day. I was eating a lot of raw, acidic fruit that was always just kind of handed to us, and I was doing active things, such as hiking and zip lining. But alas, there was only one real morning that I felt the need to take things a little slow, and to not eat as much due to pain. Weird, I know. Since I've recently been switched to Humira, I thought maybe it was starting to kick in and work (I'd been on it for about a month). Turns out that wasn't the case, since as soon as I returned to the United States, my flare symptoms returned in full force, and actually slightly worse than they were before I went on my trip.
So I suppose the moral of my trip is: Don't let Crohn's hold you back from fun activities such as swimming, or hiking, or zip lining, but don't put yourself in situations that could easily be problematic, such as four hour car rides in a foreign country with a lack of public bathrooms and English speaking people. Though that first 12 or so hours of my trip was fairly miserable, I would return to Costa Rica, as the people were amazing, the country is beautiful, and there is much more to see and explore there. Perhaps the experience will cause me to plan better on my next trip!
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