As I write this, we are on Day Three (of Five) of Liddle S’kiddle’s Family Senior Trip to Universal Studios Orlando.
Against all logic, reason, and personal preference, I am still alive.
Accompanying me on this adventure are Hubby, Senior S’kiddle, Middle S’kiddle, Middle S’kiddle’s boyfriend Redbeard (currently enjoying a favorable performance review), and of course, Liddle S’kiddle.
To say I don’t enjoy amusement parks is like saying the Pope is a little bit Catholic.
I am not comfortable in big crowds.
Short people, you know what I mean.
We are overlooked down here.
Stepped over.
Bumped into.
And back in the days when everybody smoked? Burned.
My PTSD still burns bright.
Loud noises confuse me and make it difficult for me to think.
I do not like to ride rides, mostly because I really do not want to stand in lines.
And finally, I do not like to be hot and sweaty.
Despite the facts, and because of my love for all the S’kiddles, I let hope overrule experience.
I knew.
We took this trip before when all the S’kiddles were little, sans Redbeard of course, and neither I nor they have changed.
They still disagree frequently and loudly: on food, on clothes, on makeup, and existentially – boys.
They remain completely different human beings with wildly different definitions of fun.
In addition, just two days before leaving on this trip, I dropped the edge of a 30-pound design wall onto my big toe…
and it landed squarely on the nail root—
that tender little patch of flesh where the nail emerges from the skin
and pain goes to live.
I’m not gonna lie.
I cried like my foot had been amputated with a butter knife.
Oh, and let’s not forget that I am sneaking up on seventy whether I approve of it or not.
Or that I had cancer last year and had my last chemo treatment after Christmas. I forget about it more often than you’d think – until my body reminds me that IT has not.
In other words, I arrived at Universal carrying a bruised toe, post-chemo stamina, sensory overload issues, and a lifelong dislike of amusement parks.
The odds were not in my favor.
First stop: Super Nintendo World. Three stories of noise, music, children, and heat aimed directly at your soul.
My circuits overloaded within five minutes –
full-on senior brain seizure.
Next stop: Donkey Kong – kingdom of intense heat and sanity-invading drumbeats.
Two hour wait in the sun while the “children” – all of them adults, every one capable of being left unsupervised – rode a roller coaster that turned out to be their least favorite.
And Hubby and I, still mid-brain seizure – never thought to seek shade and comfort just steps away.
Pull up a chair. There is no way this trip fits into one story.
Frankly, it may take three margaritas and a miniseries.
-Pattie
P.S. Consider this Episode One of The Universal Chronicles. More to come – pace yourselves.
Subscribe now. New episodes of suffering drop regularly, and binge-reading is encouraged.
Third Act With Pattie 
A big old HELL NO.
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