So towards the end of our Florida journey, we head over to EPCOT for my 40th birthday. Yes you read that correctly, I know I don't look a day over 25. We had to transport two basenjis and a shiba inu to Disney's kennels for the day and we decided the best plan is to open up the third row seating on the Highlander where the girls can sit and we'll lay day the second row for a play/rest area for the three pups. The plan worked really well. The best part of the plan was that with the guys in the very front (someone has to drive) and the girls in the very back, we could turn up the radio and pretend we couldn't hear them. I think they caught on to us pretty quickly though and just decided to go to sleep.
Once we arrived at EPCOT, I get out my hiking stick and put everything in my pockets so I didn't have to have anything checked by security, which wasn't such a great plan when everyone else I was with had a bag. Then my wife realized she forgot something in the car, and since I was the only one without a bag, they decided to send the cripple to hike back while they went through bag screening. I hobbled back to meet them just in time and we enter the park.
For those who have never been to Disney, or haven't been in a while, they have a new "What are you celebrating?" campaign, where you can say you are celebrating anything and they will write it on buttons and give them to you for free. While everyone else used the restrooms, I went to get us buttons. I told them I was celebrating my first cancer free birthday. The "Cast Member's" eyes lit up (remember, Disney doesn't have employees, they have "Cast Members") and he said he had something special for me. After several minutes of searching through his little kiosk, turns out the "special" thing was writing "cancer free" on a button. Now I am dying to know what I missed out on. Of course I didn't know I was missing out on anything until he started searching forever for it. While he was writing on buttons for our group, the gentleman behind me, who apparently randomly lines up anytime he sees a queue, asks why we were waiting in line (a question normally asked before you wait long enough to be the next person up). I tell him, and he immediately tells one of his children to lie and say it's their birthday. You could tell them you are celebrating the first Friday in December and they would write it down. You just paid $80 to get in the place, what is a ten cent button to them? The Cast Member looks at my stick, and can tell I am already limping. He asks if I would like anything, and as much as I would love to tool around in a scooter the rest of the day or have people push me around in a wheelchair, I stick by my vow to walk the whole day. To illustrate my point from yesterday about how ridiculous people get there with lying about needing a wheelchair just to cut in line, I saw someone on their rented scooters in those "shape-ups" shoes that give you a workout while you walk. Either she wasted money on buying workout shoes that would never see pavement, or she is the worst liar ever (aside from everyone in the Senate, the House, and every other nationally elected official, and state elected official, and local elected official, and school board member, and treasurer for my junior class, and the people that sell the Shake Weight).
We started riding the rides at EPCOT, which are for the most part pretty tame. However, that didn't keep one member of our group from being scared to death on every one. It's not like a Disney ride ever killed anyone...well, at least not a ride at EPCOT....well, at least none of the rides we were riding at EPCOT. And then I got to do something so geeky and lame, but I had been wanting to do it forever. I took the Behind the Seeds tour! Yes, for an hour I wobbled through a giant version of my Aerogardens while I listened to a Cast Member/Botanist talk about plants growing. I admit I am a nerd, and that is why I didn't force anyone to go with me. I found it really interesting, but I am sure no one else will, so I will keep my mouth shut (or my fingers still in this case). Also on the tour was a couple who were both neurologists from Massachusetts. They saw my pin and before the tour we had a great time talking about my recovery and the medical system in general. They were definitely doctors, because as we walked along the tour, I tended to lag behind so I could wobble with my stick at my own pace, looking like some pre-polio vaccine Disney character. They were constantly watching me and looking out for me, and at one point asked if I was OK. When I said I was, they said they are used to patients like me and they could tell I was in pain even though I said I wasn't, and to just say something if I wanted their help. I laughed out loud, because they were right!
The tour ended and I met back with the others. The whole day, I was awash with emotions. On one hand I was extremely happy, because I was at the happiest place on Earth. Well, I guess they mean the Magic Kingdom is the happiest place on Earth, but I was still pretty happy being next door to the happiest place on Earth, which is still pretty happy, unless the place next door happens to be SeaWorld, and then you are trying to figure out why you paid $300 a person for a smelly old whale. Anyway, I was happy, and was also on the verge of tears because when all of this started on August 31st, I didn't know what this day would end up being for me. I was depressed too. I didn't want cancer to still have as much a grip on me as it did. I mean, I was cancer free, but I was still trying to shake the pain and the effects of the treatment. And most of all, I was in excruciating pain. So, my loving wife, after 10 years of being around each other, sees the look on my face. She sees the whirlwind of emotions, the happiness, the depression, the joy of being alive, and intense pain all written on my face and asks, "Why are you pissed off?" The one emotion I don't have and that is the one she reads on my face! We ended the day, and I managed to keep the pain of my incision steady all day, which was surprising. Of course my arm felt like rubber from supporting my weight with my stick all day, but it did the trick.
The next day we ran a few last errands, buying oranges and coconut elephant windchimes, and on that last day, the two of us finally went to the beach. This trip was nothing like I had planned. The car broke down, my triumphant return from cancer ended in re-injury, only made it to the beach twice, and we had to change Disney parks. But still, just like the old fisherman's phrase goes, a bad day in Florida is still better than a good winter day in Ohio. I did enjoy myself. I knew when I first got diagnosed this whole cancer ordeal was going to leave some emotional scars. I just didn't realize how deep they were and how little things can trigger a flood of feelings. I also didn't realize how much this constant pushing to be done with all of this cancer crap was just making it last longer. I hope I am finally starting to be done with all of this, but I think I will throw my stick in the back of my Jeep just in case...
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