Recovery Monday

Good morning, world. It is a quiet day here in the west suburbs of Chicago. The skies are overcast, which must be so disappointing to those anticipating the solar eclipse today. It's no big deal to me. I figured if I couldn't look at it with my eyes, I'm not interested. We're fresh out of welders' masks or eclipse viewing glasses, so I'll just sit this one out.

Today is a recovery Monday. Oy vey. We love, love, love our time at the Ren faire, but it sure takes a lot out of us. Those who spend their weekends at the Renaissance faire know all about recovering after the weekend. Most of us, like Chuck, still have to go to work. A few, like me, wallow in every comfort we can find while our bodies rest and rejuvenate.

Today I'm just listening to seventies music, and editing pictures. Yeah, I'm conserving my energy, and moving as little as possible, for the most part. It's one of those days when simply making the bed and taking out the trash feel like major accomplishments. 

After last week's confession about My Drinking Problem, I'm afraid I succumbed to the heat again yesterday, and dehydration kicked my butt even worse than last time. This time, Chuck was adamant that I seek first aid. 

One of our friends who works security at the faire had just arrived where we were in the military encampment, and Chuck asked for his assistance in getting me some help. When our friend's wife joined Chuck in encouraging me to go to first aid, I started to cry. Again. What is with the tears? Dehydration turns me into a big cry baby. Doesn't my body know I need to conserve those body fluids. Ugh. 

It's so weird. Both times I got dehydrated, I cried. I wasn't in pain. I wasn't scared. I just became so disoriented, and everything felt so confusing, my brain couldn't process what was going on, and the waterworks began. I couldn't help it.

My son said pickle juice is the original Gatorade.

It wasn't for a lack of trying to avoid dehydration this time! I drank water with Himalayan salt first thing that morning. I even drank dill pickle juice before we left home. That stuff is so nasty, but I thought if it would keep me hydrated, it would be worth it. I drank water on the way to the faire, and we stopped at the water fountains often throughout the day. My hydration plan worked Saturday; Sunday was a different story.

The day started out great. We watched the Bristol Buskin Frolic dance around the Maypole. We enjoyed our time at Tuscany Tavern watching the actors perform their favorite scenes from Shakespeare. We took so many fun pictures. 

True confession. My favorite picture from Sunday wasn't even one I took with my nice camera. It's just a cell phone pic taken by someone I don't even know.

I was so happy when Chuck offered to have our picture taken at the thrones across from the Kids' Kingdom. I had been wanting to do that, but thought he would think it was just silly. Just looking at the picture makes me so happy. There we were; the two of us, in our color-coordinated outfits, smiling big for the camera, just enjoying spending the day together at our favorite place. We always have the best time at the faire. 

Except when we don't. Chuck says he can see it in my eyes when I start going down from dehydration. My speech slows dramatically. I can feel my thoughts getting cloudy, but I am stubborn. 

Chuck asked me why I was mad at him when he was trying to assess my condition. I wasn't mad; I was just concentrating really hard on being coherent, and wanted him to believe that I was really okay. I wasn't, but I thought if I could just act like I was, eventually I'd feel better, and really be okay. 

Have you ever wondered what the first aid station behind the scenes is like? To someone overcome by heat and exhaustion, it is a mecca of relief. It's no Taj Mahal back there behind the fence, but they have everything a parched and overheated body needs. The first aid station is outfitted with air conditioning, chairs, stretchers, cold water, and Gatorade. The staff is kind and understanding. 

When we first got there, a young man asked me if I would like a cold, wet towel. That sounded so wonderful, and it was  as refreshing as it sounded. I wrapped the towel around my neck and pressed the coolness against my hot cheeks. I drank three small cups of Gatorade and a cold bottle of water. And then I just laid there, and tried hard not to cry. 

I don't even know how long we were there, but it felt like way too long. I could hear Moonie's whistling on the stage just outside the first aid station, and the crowd's laughter. I kept thinking of all the pictures we were missing. I wanted to feel better, and get back out there. After they took my vitals to make sure I was okay, they released us, and encouraged me to come  back if I felt worse. 

We received word from one of the flower vendors that she had a flower for us; one of our friends wanted us to have a rose. We chose a beautiful yellow one since yellow roses signify friendship. We are so lucky to have such wonderful friends at the faire. 

Thank you, Nancy!

We managed to enjoy a couple more hours, but then I started to feel unwell again. We had special plans for the end of the day; things we wanted to make sure we photographed. We had young friends who were leaving for college this week, whom we wouldn't see until next year, and there were goodbyes to be said. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew we needed to get out of the heat and humidity, and go home. 

Olivia, I wish we could have stayed until the drum jam. I know we missed a special performance.

Heat and humidity are not my friends. This girl was made for cool temperatures. I am dreading the end of the faire season after Labor Day, but there is a part of me that so looks forward to fall. 

Today I am very grateful that I can be home, and just rest.  I want to take this chance to thank Chuck for taking such good care of me, especially when I'm resistant to help because my brain is fried. I'm going to make sure I'm strong enough to enjoy these last couple of weeks at the faire. I love that place so much; I don't want to miss another minute because of dehydration. 

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to refill my glass with some refreshing lemonade, and listen to some old tunes from Jackson Browne. 

Here are of my favorite pictures from this last weekend which was Bristol Faire's Fantasy weekend.