Dear Diary,
I am sure you have been waiting to hear about my Alaskan cruise and, more importantly, how my roommates conducted themselves.
You remember them—Crohn’s and MG.
The same two freeloaders I tried to evict before this trip apparently decided my notices meant absolutely nothing.
No luggage.
No contribution toward the trip.
No invitation.
Just audacity.
Since they insisted on coming to Alaska, I figured I might as well document their behavior.
Welcome to the official vacation report for the two worst travel companions I never invited.
✈️ Day One: Seattle — Crohn’s Finds a New Friend
The flight to Seattle was uneventful.
Thank God.
I made it to my hotel without incident and, for approximately five minutes, thought Crohn’s might actually cooperate.
That was adorable.
Crohn’s took one look at the hotel bathroom and decided we needed to become deeply familiar with one another.
Not casual acquaintances.
We were building a relationship.
Bathroom: 10/10. Crohn’s: 0/10.
Still, I hadn’t come all the way to Seattle for a bathroom tour.
Once things settled down, I ventured out, walked to the Space Needle, and then headed to the Seattle Center Armory for a late lunch.
Afterward, my body sent a very clear message:
Girl. Go back to the hotel.
For once, I listened.
Tomorrow was embarkation day, and I needed enough energy to get myself—and my two unauthorized passengers—onto that ship.
🚢 Day Two: Embarkation — Energy Is Currency
Crohn’s still wasn’t fully cooperating, so preventive measures were in full effect.
Before heading to the cruise port, I Ubered to Walgreens for some last-minute essentials.
Was Walgreens within walking distance?
Yes.
Was I walking there?
Absolutely not.
I was saving my energy for Pike Place Market.
Chronic illness has taught me something important:
Energy is currency. Spend it on what matters.
And Pike Place mattered more than Walgreens.
That decision paid off. I wandered through the market, enjoyed myself, and—miraculously—both roommates behaved.
MG waited until boarding to make her first complaint.
Apparently, she did not approve of the inclined ramps.
MG: Excuse me, what exactly are we doing here?
Me: Getting on this ship. Keep moving.
She wasn’t happy, but after months of planning, preparing, packing, repacking, and unsuccessfully trying to evict my roommates…
I was getting on that ship.
And I did.
🌊 Day Three: Sea Day — Who Are These People?
Dear Diary, I don’t want to speak too loudly because they might hear me, but…
BOTH ROOMMATES BEHAVED.
On the same day.
At the same time.
I woke with a slight headache, but I’m blaming the change in atmosphere instead of either roommate.
Look at me giving them the benefit of the doubt.
Growth.
Or temporary insanity.
Either way, I’ll take it.
My sea-day itinerary was beautifully simple:
Stroll. Eat. Nap. Repeat.
I wandered around the different decks, ate until I could eat no more, took a nap, woke up…
and basically did it all over again.
For once, I wasn’t spending the day negotiating with my body.
I simply got to enjoy my vacation.
And when you live with chronic illness, an ordinary day when your body quietly lets you live can feel pretty extraordinary.
🏔️ Day Four: Ketchikan — Crab Grilled Cheese & Crohn’s
My roommates stayed mostly quiet while I wandered around Ketchikan for several hours, enjoying the scenery and exploring.
Then I discovered something worthy of its own vacation memory:
Crab grilled cheese.
Yes.
Crab. Grilled. Cheese.
And it was amazing.
Eventually, Crohn’s tapped me on the shoulder:
So…where’s the bathroom?
When you’ve lived with Crohn’s long enough, you understand something important:
When she politely asks for a bathroom, you don’t wait for her to start yelling.
I’d already enjoyed several hours in Ketchikan, so there was no reason to turn a great afternoon into The Amazing Race: Find the Nearest Bathroom Edition.
Back to the ship I went.
First stop?
Cabin bathroom.
Crisis avoided.
Afterward, I wandered around the ship, ate again, and headed back to my cabin to relax.
That’s when something occurred to me:
Crohn’s showed up, but she didn’t take Ketchikan away from me.
I explored.
I ate something delicious.
I listened when my body warned me.
I adjusted the plan.
And I kept enjoying my day.
My roommates may have invited themselves to Alaska, but they don’t automatically get to control the itinerary.
🏔️ Day Five: Juneau — Maybe They Got the Message
Juneau went great.
And yes, Diary, I’m just as shocked as you are.
I wandered around downtown admiring the totem poles, browsing shops, buying gifts and souvenirs, and talking with locals.
Nothing rushed.
Nothing dramatic.
Just me enjoying Alaska.
And my roommates?
Quiet.
Five days into this adventure, I realized something I wasn’t entirely sure would happen when I packed my suitcase:
I’m actually doing this.
I’m exploring Alaska.
I’m meeting people.
I’m buying entirely too many souvenirs.
I’m eating whatever looks good.
I’m resting when necessary.
And my roommates are here—but they aren’t the center of the story.
I’m not saying they’ve earned another lease.
Let’s not get ridiculous.
But their vacation privileges?
Currently intact.
🧊 Day Six: Endicott Arm — Eat, Admire, Repeat
Day Six was our cruise through Endicott Arm, and the theme was:
Eat. Admire Alaska. Eat again.
I spent plenty of time on my cabin balcony taking photos because apparently I needed 847 pictures of the same mountains from slightly different angles.
And yes, I will probably keep every single one.
When I wasn’t admiring Alaska, I was spending a suspicious amount of time in The Galley eating avocado burritos, avocado tacos, fruit, chocolate croissants, cookies, and parfaits.
And Crohn’s continued to mind her business.
Considering everything I was eating, I feel like that deserves some recognition.
I also finally bought the bag I’d been eyeing in the gift shop since embarkation.
Did I need another bag?
Irrelevant.
I’d been looking at it for six days.
At that point, the bag and I were practically in a committed relationship.
Day Six wasn’t about doing a lot.
It was about slowing down.
Eating good food.
Sitting on my balcony.
Taking entirely too many pictures.
Buying something I wanted.
Looking out at scenery that sometimes didn’t seem real.
And simply being there.
Apparently my roommates had finally figured something out:
Alaska is far too beautiful for foolishness.
🇨🇦 Day Seven: Prince Rupert — Eh
Day Seven started with morning photos followed by breakfast.
And what did I want?
Avocado burritos, please.
Apparently avocado burritos had officially become part of my cruise personality.
After breakfast, I headed out to explore Prince Rupert, British Columbia.
I was tired, and my body definitely reminded me of that, but my roommates continued their impressive streak of good behavior.
Prince Rupert was beautiful, but I especially enjoyed talking with the locals.
Somewhere along the way, I realized:
I think my roommates are enjoying this trip just as much as I am.
Maybe Crohn’s likes the scenery.
Maybe MG appreciates the slower pace.
Maybe they finally realized causing havoc would interfere with their vacation too.
Look at us.
One big dysfunctional traveling family.
Don’t misunderstand me—the eviction notices are still valid.
But apparently we’ve reached a temporary peace agreement.
Everybody stays in their lane.
Eh. 🇨🇦😂
🌊 Day Eight: The Roommates Almost Made It
Our final sea day started with me attempting to sleep in.
Attempting being the important word.
My body had officially decided it was done with that bed.
Everything hurt.
And Diary, I mean EVERYTHING.
As much as I’d love to blame my roommates, I can’t.
My body simply wanted its own bed back.
More specifically…
my pillow top.
Since that was several hundred miles away, I settled for the next best thing:
An avocado burrito.
Apparently avocado burritos had become my emotional support food.
After breakfast and some last-minute shopping, I returned to my cabin to face something far more dangerous:
Packing my suitcase.
Can someone explain why the exact same clothes that fit perfectly when they’re clean somehow triple in size when they’re dirty?
I had luggage vacuum bags.
I had a system.
I had determination.
What I apparently needed was an engineering degree.
I pushed.
Rearranged.
Vacuumed.
Sat on things.
I performed maneuvers that probably qualify me for Olympic gymnastics.
And somewhere during these suitcase acrobatics…
I lost my breath and peed on myself.
MG.
Girl.
WE WERE SO CLOSE.
Seven days of good behavior and you couldn’t let me pack a suitcase without making one final appearance?
Thanks, MG.
Nothing says glamorous Alaskan cruise quite like fighting dirty laundry while simultaneously realizing you need to change your underwear.
Chronic illness keeps you humble.
Thankfully, the rest of the day was uneventful. I watched old movies and periodically raided The Galley for avocado tacos, mini desserts, and Coke to settle my stomach.
Tomorrow was disembarkation.
And I had one final Seattle mission:
The original Starbucks at Pike Place Market.
☕ Day Nine: One Last Seattle Adventure
I couldn’t sleep my final night.
Maybe it was the bed making every part of my body hurt.
Maybe I was simply ready to go home.
Probably both.
At 8:30 a.m., I headed to Deck 7 to disembark, caught the shuttle, and grabbed an Uber to Pike Place.
Despite the exhaustion, aching body, luggage, and two roommates who had already overstayed their welcome…
I was determined to get inside the original Starbucks.
First, I needed to drop my suitcase at The Purple Store.
Dragging luggage uphill apparently gave MG another opportunity to remind me she was still around.
I lost my breath.
And…
peed on myself. Again.
MG.
Ma’am.
Thankfully, after yesterday’s suitcase incident, I had enough sense to put on an Always bladder pad before leaving the ship.
And that little moment reminded me:
Sometimes winning doesn’t mean preventing the symptom. Sometimes it means knowing your body well enough to prepare for it.
Suitcase dropped off, I headed to Starbucks and reserved my spot.
Yes, Diary.
You need a reservation to enter the original Starbucks.
While I waited, I wandered around Pike Place and headed to Honest Biscuit for a crab melt.
After approximately nine thousand avocado-based meals, my stomach was probably thrilled to finally receive something different.
Unfortunately, Crohn’s had opinions.
After the crab melt and a mocha, she decided she’d been quiet long enough.
Cue the emergency bathroom rush.
Apparently crab melt plus mocha was where Crohn’s drew the line.
But listen…
it was good going down.
After handling that situation, I finally headed to Starbucks for my much-awaited reservation.
And the original Starbucks?
Honestly?
Underwhelming and exciting at the same time.
It wasn’t some enormous magical coffee wonderland.
But I had wanted to go.
I made the reservation.
I got inside.
Mission accomplished.
And naturally, I left with three cups and a latte.
Then it was back to wandering Pike Place until exhaustion finally won.
I still had hours before my flight, but my body had spoken.
Sightseeing was officially over.
Airport it was.
✈️ MG’s Final Hoorah
Arriving ridiculously early turned out to be exactly what I needed.
MG started dropping subtle reminders that my muscles had reached their limit.
My neck muscles became so fatigued that holding my head up felt like work.
I felt like a human bobble head.
Then my thighs started spasming.
Thankfully, Delta accepted my bags early, allowing me to stop dragging luggage around and give my muscles a much-needed break.
Remember what I said on Day Two?
Energy is currency.
By Day Nine, my account was officially overdrawn.
After making it through TSA, MG apparently decided subtle hints weren’t enough.
Walking toward the terminal, I lost my breath.
And…
you guessed it.
I peed myself.
Again.
At this point:
MG: Surprise!
Me: Girl, WE ARE TIRED.
My body wasn’t suggesting that I slow down anymore.
It was issuing a formal cease-and-desist.
So after the final episode of Let’s Pee My Pants: Alaska Edition, I headed to the bathroom, got myself together, and went to Hudson for snacks.
Why Hudson?
Because my son had made it abundantly clear that when he picked me up, there would not be Chick-fil-A waffle fries and a peach frosted lemonade waiting in the car.
Excuse me?
After everything I’ve been through?
Apparently customer service at Mom’s Airport Transportation has really declined.
So Hudson snacks it was.
I boarded my flight with snacks in tow and waited to see whether either roommate had one last surprise.
Thankfully…
THEY DID NOT.
No Crohn’s emergency.
No MG encore.
Nothing.
Apparently they were exhausted too.
🏠 And Then…My Pillow Top
I made it home.
Not to another port.
Not to another hotel.
Not to another cruise cabin bed that had every bone and muscle in my body filing complaints.
HOME.
And waiting for me was the thing I’d been dreaming about for days:
My pillow top.
I climbed into my own bed and had the best sleep I’d had in at least ten days.
And just like that…
the Alaskan adventure was over.
📋 The Final Roommate Vacation Report
It wouldn’t be right to end this trip without grading my unauthorized travel companions.
Crohn’s: B
She started the trip disrespectfully, developed an inappropriate relationship with my Seattle hotel bathroom, interrupted Ketchikan, and waited until Pike Place on the final day for an encore.
However…
Considering the truly unreasonable quantity of avocado I consumed on this cruise, I’m willing to acknowledge that I may have contributed to some of the workplace conditions.
I’ll give her some grace.
MG: B-
MG complained about boarding ramps, objected to suitcase gymnastics, turned me into a human bobble head, exhausted my muscles, stole my breath, and hosted several unauthorized episodes of Let’s Pee My Pants.
Most of her foolishness happened toward the end, when my body was clearly exhausted.
So we’re definitely discussing her behavior at the next roommate meeting.
But…
she passes. Barely.
Kia: A+
Explored.
Adapted.
Rested.
Ate.
Laughed.
Listened to her body.
Occasionally ignored her body and was subsequently reminded why that wasn’t the best idea.
Bought entirely too many souvenirs.
Consumed enough avocado to concern an entire agricultural association.
Made memories.
And experienced Alaska anyway.
Overall Vacation: A+++
Would absolutely do it again.
The roommates?
Still not invited.
🎵 Music Playing…
“Alaska and Me” — John Denver
Yes, Diary, this is the same song that played while I was preparing for this trip.
And that’s intentional.
Before Alaska, it represented anticipation.
The wondering.
The planning.
The Can I really do this with Crohn’s and MG coming along?
Now it means something different.
I did it.
The song that helped send me toward Alaska gets to bring me home from it too.
💭 Reflection Corner: They Came, But They Didn’t Take the Trip
Before this vacation, I wondered how Crohn’s and MG would affect it.
Would Crohn’s keep me searching for bathrooms?
Would MG decide my muscles had other plans?
Would fatigue win?
Would I have to miss things?
At different moments, the answer was:
Yes.
My roommates came.
They made appearances.
I found bathrooms.
I conserved energy.
I rested.
I changed plans.
I prepared when experience told me I should.
I laughed at situations that weren’t particularly funny while they were happening.
And toward the end, my body made it abundantly clear:
Enough.
But here’s what Crohn’s and MG didn’t do:
They didn’t take Alaska away from me.
I explored Seattle.
I walked through Pike Place.
I boarded that ship.
I sailed through the Inside Passage and Endicott Arm.
I wandered through Ketchikan, Juneau, and Prince Rupert.
I stood on my balcony staring at mountains that sometimes seemed to disappear into the clouds.
I talked with locals.
I ate amazing food.
I bought things I absolutely did not need.
I laughed.
I took hundreds of pictures.
I rested.
I adapted.
And I made memories.
For nine days, Crohn’s and MG traveled with me.
But they weren’t the center of the story.
I was.
And maybe that’s what I’m bringing home from Alaska.
Living with chronic illness doesn’t always mean waiting until my body is completely cooperative before I live.
Because if I waited for Crohn’s and MG to approve every plan…
I’d probably never leave the house.
Instead, sometimes I prepare.
Sometimes I adapt.
Sometimes I change the plan.
Sometimes I find the nearest bathroom.
Sometimes I sit down.
Sometimes I laugh.
And sometimes I put on an Always pad and keep moving.
Not because I’m pretending my illnesses aren’t there.
Not because pushing through is always the answer.
And certainly not because rest means giving up.
But because I’ve learned that listening to my body and living my life don’t have to be opposites.
Sometimes living means going.
Sometimes living means adjusting.
And sometimes living means recognizing that your energy account is overdrawn, heading to the airport early, sitting your butt down, and calling the adventure complete.
My roommates came to Alaska.
But this was never their vacation.
It was mine.
And Diary?
I had an amazing time.
🌻 Your Turn
If you live with chronic illness, disability, or something else that occasionally tries to rewrite your plans, have you ever taken a trip—or done something—you weren’t completely sure your body would cooperate with?
What helped you adapt?
What did you learn about yourself?
And most importantly…
Where did you go anyway?
I’d love to hear your story.
💜 Thank you for reading The Dual Diagnosis Diaries | Kia’s Journey.
This space is where I share the pieces of life that happen between the diagnoses, treatments, appointments, responsibilities, laughter, adventures, and everyday moments—the parts that remind me I am so much more than the conditions I live with.
If something in this entry made you laugh, think, feel seen, or reminded you of someone you love, please like, subscribe, comment, and share.
Someone else may need the reminder that chronic illness can travel with us…
without becoming the entire journey.
Until next time, Diary.
Crohn’s and MG, vacation is officially over.
Please return to your respective corners and resume minding your business.
And don’t get too comfortable.
I’m already wondering where we’re going next. 🌻✈️💜
Founder • Author • Advocate • Future Wellness Coach
Kia Lorice
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries 💜
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