Day 16: Navarette - Azofra (4/16/14)

Third verse... same as the first.

My Camino 'honeymoon' -

and my infatuation with Spain - 

was definitely over!

It was now merely more of the same -

more mountains, more vineyards;

more rivers to cross,

more quaint, look- alike-blending-together-inseparably-in-my-head towns;

more endless walking -

 in the heat with no shade,

always too little water

and too much pain.

I was miserable.

Every foot placement was agony.

I'd pray for my back to stop hurting - 

and my foot would throb unbearably;

I'd pray for my headache to go away -

and be rewarded with full knowledge of exactly how much my face was on fire 

-again - 

from sunburn.

I swear I could feel the cancerous cells multiplying as I walked.

I just knew I'd need a Phantom of the Opera mask 

by the end of this pilgrimage from hell.

Everyone who passed me seemed more fit,

more capable,

more well adjusted 

and  more resigned to our common fate than I.

Yes, I even got as far as...

obviously no one has pain like mine...

or they would be more sympathetic to my misery.

(Reality check -

I actually knew, and had walked with, 

people who needed to seek medical attention at hospital;

some had been admitted,

others had been advised to stop and go home,

some had been told to rest for 3-5 days before continuing on.

I was NOT alone in the toll being taken on my body - 

yet I found no satisfaction in that reality.)

In preparing for the Camino I read, multiple times, that there are three stages -

 the first 1/3 (which I was still on) breaks you down physically;

the middle third (across the meseta) breaks you open emotionally

and, hopefully, the last 1/3 rebuilds you spiritually.

Well, if this stage was designed to break me down, 

then I was really a Super star, 

rockin' the lesson!

I totally got it!

I am NOT my head or my intellect 

or my accomplishments or my feelings.

I am a physical, finite human being 

and, as much as I'd ignored my body for decades,

it was now reminding me, in no uncertain terms,

 exactly how much it could command my attention 

and impact the quality of my days!

It also was beginning to dawn on me that my pain served another purpose altogether.

It was far easier to talk to other pilgrims about my aching knee, 

throbbing feet or back spasms

then say "I'm afraid.

I've just left the only career and life I've known for 35 years 

and I don't know what comes next.

I'm not sure who I am outside of work.

Maybe this retirement thing won't pan out.

I won't have enough money 

and I'll be eating dry cat food when I get home.

What if I get sick. 

I've lived alone for a VERY long time - who will take care of me?

I feel SO in over my head with all the changes in my life.

This is NOT to say that my physical pain wasn't real.

The Camino is hard - far harder than I'd ever imagined...

and it's sustained -

and parts of it are very isolated -

and even getting out of it is not easy
once you're in this far.

So I did what any good American would do -

I tried to live better chemically.

I hadn't worked in a hospital for nothing - 

with friends who were doctors - 

capable and willing to write prescriptions.

I'd been smart enough to bring some pain pills with me -

"just in case" something happened -

well, the Camino happened!

So I took a pain pill to take the edge off -

and, despite visions of sliding down the slippery slope to addiction,

it worked!

In my heart of hearts,

I knew I'd never make it to the end

but at least with meds on board, 

maybe my companions wouldn't have to confine me to a Hermits cell!

The biggest danger was that I'd come home,

want to move to Jefferson County and open a meth house.

It was a chance I was willing to take.