I think it was the sideways rain that did me in. You’d think that the so-called “Magic” Kingdom could control the weather but no. Akeyla looked around, confused, as everyone stuffed themselves into $15 rain ponchos adorned with the Disney logo. “Mommy, why is everyone wearing garbage bags?”
The rain didn’t dampen Matt’s enthusiasm, however. He checked his Disney app with glee, announcing,“There are no lines anywhere!” Oh, I don’t know, maybe that’s because everything is fucking closed because of sideways rain. The girls didn’t care – they were just excited to be there:
No they weren’t.
The best part was that you were soaking wet and then you’d dash into venues to get out of the rain and Disney would be cooling them to absolute zero, so hypothermia would set in. Which was kind of a nice bookend to my visit two days earlier to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter, where I was overcome with heat exhaustion and had to be wheeled to our car by paramedics.
By the day we had planned to go to Animal Kingdom, I was over it. While Matt, the kids, and his folks went to “see the animals,” I dragged myself to an urgent care center I nicknamed “Antibiotics R Us.” “You don’t seem to have a bacterial infection,” Urgent Care Doctor said, “But I’m going to give you a prescription for Zithromax anyway.” They might as well have had a penicillin drive-thru. I’m pretty sure all superbugs started at this one urgent care in Kissimmee, Florida.
Needless to say, taking two Zithromax on an empty and rebellious stomach worked out great, alimentary-canal wise. I was on the floor of our condo bathroom doing my best impression of Elvis at the end. Around 9:00 that night, it was clear I wasn’t going to get better on my own. Matt’s folks came over and Matt and I set out for the Celebration Hospital. The diagnosis? Heat exhaustion, dehydration, and a stomach virus. The trifecta of misery.
Celebration, Florida, is the town that Disney built – a model community based on all the concepts that its EPCOT theme park is supposed to embody. EPCOT, I learned, is an acronym that stands for Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow, and Celebration, FL, is as Stepfordian as that warm title implies. As I lay in a windowless room on a windowless ward for two days watching women on TLC try on wedding dresses as though nuclear annihilation would occur if they picked the wrong one, Matt dragged the girls back to the Magic Kingdom – this time solo.
My Disney trip had turned into this:
Mmmmm. Grits & a Snack-Pack pudding.
Matt and the girls? This:
Ten bags of saline later, I was discharged and we flew home.
I never wanted to go to Disney in the first place. I’m not big on crowds. Hey, Americans, let’s all stand in a roped off line forever, go on a 45-second ride and end up in a gift shop, where the kids will beg for a $28 t-shirt I could have bought at Target for $5 on sale.
I don’t like rides, particularly. I don’t like the required moving about from place to place. The waiting, the inevitable whining, the carrying of plates of overpriced junk food to find an open table, the terror of losing the children on Tom Sawyer Island. The Country Bear Jamboree.
And the niceness. The unending Vaselined smiles of the Disney “cast” endlessly singing a merry tune and walking around jauntily in Mary Poppins costumes down Main Street.
So it was rather like the kid who promised his mom that if she made him eat the three bean salad, he would throw up. And then he threw up.
I guess I showed them.
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Hooking up to the Yeah Write blogging challenge. Join us!
The Country. Bear. Jamboree. I still have nightmares.
I think yours was the way Walt Disney intended his parks to be enjoyed.
On another note, sorry you were sick at Disney. I myself was sick there once… on my honeymoon. If you’re wondering how romantic that was, yeah. It wasn’t.
oh dear god i’m not a fan of Disney anything. never have been, never will be. even if my super princess loving girly girl begs me to go. no no NO. this piece reiterates my feelings. sorry it was such a shitty time.
I loved reading this. I am a HUGE Disney fan and it is our every-year vacation. I’m always floating on a cloud of happiness for that one week so I really enjoyed reading this and seeing it from the flip-side. After our next trip, when I write my post about pure happiness (fingers crossed) I would love to link back to this post.
Jennifer – be my guest! I can show the dark side of the theme park.
Oh Cindy, you can show the dark side of anything!!
I’m going to send this to my husband…who has been planning on going to Disney for years now. YEARS! He’s even mentioned the Disney Cruise. THE CRUISE. Ack.
Then you are trapped! Not. The. Cruise.
Sorry you had such a trying time! I do hate that they keep all of the inside places so cold. But I kind of have a soft spot for Disney, ever since I was a kid.
Ahh, the adventures continue. I really hate that your misfortune is our amusement. Not really. Thanks for this.
Ahhh memories… when we got poisoned by the Princesses it was just the grown ups so we had the child whining whilst we fought for the one bathroom to vomit in. Her greatest annoyance.. that they did not have the disney channel at the near to disney condo we rented!!
By the end of our trip to the “happiest place on earth” I knew I would punch the next person who called my daughter “princess”!
I swore I would never go back…. and yet I did…..
Glad you are back and well and everyone survived.. where to next? Carowinds? Colonial Williamsburg over the 4th of July?
Maybe a waterpark weekend?
Wow, what a time you endured. For me the worst part of your story is the abysmal health care you first received. You didn’t have a bacterial infection but he gave you an anti-bacterial drug. Ok. Makes sense to me. For this we go bankrupt in this country when we get sick. Oops, I’m indulging my pet peeve topic. As to Disney – when I lived in LA I went to Disneyland many times and enjoyed it, even though I have no love for Disney’s corporate merchandising. But, when I visited Disney World in FL I intensely disliked the experience. I think its the area itself. I can’t quite explain it. But I feel your pain. Well, thankfully not all of it, but I’m very glad you recovered to write about it.
I am *so* sorry you were sick. That’s a horror story. I loved the superbugs starting at the urgent care. It made me laugh so hard my dog looked up from her nap. (and she’s a very sound sleeper) –Lisa
Oh NO! Sounds like the vacation from HELL. I applaud your husband for taking the kids to the kingdom solo. And you must have been damned sick to have to stay two days in the hospital. Ugh. Ten bags? Sheesh! Bet you never go there again!
My husband is Disney crazycakes. I feel a little like you about it all. I’m thinking to you willed your body into sickness to miss out on it all.
SIDEWAYS RAIN SOUNDS DELIGHTFUL.
Now you’ve taken them. You never have to go again!
So sorry you were sick. What a lousy vacation for you and props to Matt for going solo with the girls. Zip-pacs on empty stomaches = Yuck!
Neither of my kids have been to Disney World. We’ve done a million other adventures just not that one. Sometimes I’ve felt like a bad mommy but mostly not! Hope there’s a next time if you want that!
OMG, the caption: “No they weren’t.” Killed me. Fabulous.
Such a bummer that you were sick on the trip. You don’t have to make your Disney case with me, though… I’m right there with you. I went for the first time in my whole life (and my kids’ lives) last year. As clean and nice and pleasant as the Disney folks try to make it — and they really do make a valiant effort — it is pretty much everything I don’t like in life:
- crowds
- amusements designed to appeal to general humanity
- brightly colored plastic and logos and characters
- bad coffee
But hey. Now it’s done!
Ohhh I’m sorry you got sick! That’s so stinky. Ick.
I went to Disney once when I was in college. I’m very glad my child has no interest in it because I have no interest in going back. I’m with you on the crowds and the heat and the people and the happiness. But getting sick on vacation, even one you weren’t thrilled about in the first place really sucks.
I am only a little angry you posted this on the VERY DAY I said to Jeff, “While we are in LA this Hannukah, let’s go to Disney.” He hung up on me because DISNEY. And hatred. And he hates fun. Anyway, I sent him this post, which means I concede we won’t go to Disney, but I got caught up in the fantasy that my kids would have so much fun, especially my 20month old. Good times. I am glad you are back on the grid and that you didn’t die in EPCOT. How gross.
I would absolutely end up writhing on the floor if I tried to find fun too. It always happens. That totally sucks and for some reason being sick at “The Happiest Place on Earth” seems like it would be only a billion times worse than being sick ANYWHERE else. Hope you’re better now.
I just returned from a week in Orlando for a work conference. I just don’t get Disney. The lines the crazy expensive prices. It rots of disappointment. I am thankful my children are as hype averse as i am. hopefully you have fully recovered from your magical/miserable vacation.
I couldn’t believe you were going to Disney in the first place; my kids may whine to their therapists that they never got to go to Disneyland, but they’re still not going on my watch. So glad you are home safely and now whenever your kids complain about anything, you can pull out the ol’ “I took you to Disney!” Case closed.
It’s funny, Disney World is pretty much the one thing I have genuine enthusiasm for (ok 75%), which is odd considering it’s me (I hate waiting and crowds and humidity). Of course I only go during the cooler months – I would also end up in the hospital in summer weather since I dehydrate so easily. I think the most disturbing thing about this whole story is that you didn’t have a window in your hospital room.
No windows in the whole ward! And when I shuffled out with my IV pole looking for the outdoors, they wouldn’t let me go off the ward. No natural lighting allowed.
Oh, that’s awful! To be sick and miserable at ‘the happiest place on earth’. You and my husband think alike. He does not enjoy crowds or line-ups, but he does enjoy rides. That’s how I get him. And now that the kids are old enough to go on some of the ‘older’ rides, he is in his element. And I become bag, purse, whatever holder.
I often wonder how much their faces ache after smiling all day at everyone. Do you think that when they get behind a wall or take off their costumes they swear a blue streak just so they can feel human again?
By the way, no window! That is just cruel.
Remind me never to invite you on a trip. You’re the Jonah.
My husband would agree. So, probably, would I.
Ugh, I can’t believe they gave you grits on a tender tummy — that would make me sicker right away. Glad you survived!
What an awful experience! So sorry it turned out that way for you.
Personally, I love Disney. The last time we went to Disneyland, however, we almost had to drag our preteens there. They considered themselves far too old and cool to be there. I guess I’ll have to wait till I have grandchildren to get them to go with me again.
I presume you’ve already decided on your return trip? What could go wrong the second time? Hordes of locusts? MRSA? Could be fun!
Thank heavens for someone else who didn’t really want to go to Disney. I have never had to, and I hope my kids never want to. I’m pretty sure I might choke Donald or Goofy out for all their happy bullshit. People often look at me in disgust when I say I HATE Mickey Mouse. I’m sorry it had to be THIS bad though. Some things you expect … the lines, the insane cheerfulness, etc. .. but not this. At least it makes for a good story. Don’t we writers so often tell ourselves that?
My family went to Disney California Adventure the week it first opened. We THOUGHT it would be an epic weekend to remember and that they could tell their kids about someday… “that’s right. Daddy was here the DAY this park first opened.”
Instead? TORRENTIAL downpours and temperatures which rarely topped 60 all weekend. The “highlight” of Disney’s Mudslide Kingdom (or, California Adventure, whatever you want to call it), was a giant ferris wheel which appeared to be covered, hopefully meaning it would block out the rain. Apparently the cover is to SHADE the passengers, and on every rotation, the car above would reach a point where it would dump gallons of cold water directly into the car we were riding in. When the ride finally came to a stop and the door was opened, the water was knee deep.
Ride Operator: Did you enjoy the ride?
My Daughter (7 years old at the time): I’m not a fish… so no.
Oh how I love your writing. You’ve captured *exactly* why I’ll have to be dragged to Disney land or world or any “center” or “garden” associated. Yuck. I guess if you have to get horribly sick, at least you timed it well, and got to avoid the crowds and whining and forced cheerfulness. Anyway, it’s always such a treat to read your blog posts….