For most people (those whose lives aren’t governed, one way or another, by spoons), the planning involved in convention prep is relatively minor (especially if you’re not traveling super far or cosplaying, etc – and even then, it’s not totally exhausting). Perhaps you’ll browse the con schedule and decide which events and/or panels you want to attend, make lists so as not to forget any essentials (toothpaste! pants! tickets!) and maybe even buy mini pots to reduce the bulk of shampoo and shower gel, etc. I need to do all those things, too, but they’re not what comes first. Not even close.
The very first thing I, as a spoonie, need to do when preparing for a convention, is make a list of everything I need to plan. That’s right: before I can even start with the prep, I need to prep my prep. If I don’t, chances are that I’ll forget something. Whilst that amorphous something might be relatively minor–such as a phone charger, which can be easily purchased near to the con, or a forgotten toiletry that can also be casually sourced–it might also wind up being prescription painkillers which absolutely cannot be purchased from the nearest Boots, or even something as essential as a wrist support or crutches. (Trust me: rushing out the house to get into the taxi, in my wheelchair and laden with bags, does not lend itself to remembering to shrink down crutches and stuff them into a bag–and you never know when the additional walking aid might be needed to cross from bed to bathroom in a hotel.)
So there are three reasons that I need to plan my prep. One is that there is a lot of it. The second is that I have so much going on mentally/physically everyday, that I’m liable to forget something. My type of ADD makes me hyperfocused and my OCD can make me need to do some things right there and then or in a certain order, otherwise… Well, the only otherwise is that it feels very, very wrong and bad and not good. Not all spoonies have these issues to deal with, but they more than likely have the brain fog and forgetfulness, or just lack of spoons with which to get everything done. This brings us to the third. Energy. When you’re a spoonie, everything takes energy and that means planning and preparing and thinking. Without pre planning, there’s the risk that I’ll start flaring or I’ll be low on spoons out of nowhere, and suddenly those tiny tasks become mountains.
I’m not generally very good at planning. I like to think I am, but I find sitting still and planning pretty difficult, compared with just doing the thing. I’ll be the one saying “oh, we can pack in the morning! We’ll have time!”. This was true, once. Before I became disabled and before everything that used to make sense, no longer did. Before brain fog and constant fatigue and pain. Now, we absolutely do not have the time to pack last minute.
So it comes down to lists! Lists of things that need doing, lists of things that need packing, and lists of miscellaneous tasks that need attending to one way or another. Micro lists are the way to go. Anything else and my energy gets drained just thinking about everything that needs doing, and I will end up half-assing everything because I’m already so done.
So the first list is going to look something like this:
- Write chores list
- Write packing list
- Write convention food plan, and subsequent food prep list required
- Write travel bag list
- Write list of medication and therapy aids required (supports or ear plugs, etc)
- Plan food for Wednesday night, Thursday morning and Monday afternoon/evening
- Write spending budget for convention
- Pencil in convention schedule, leaving space for meals and rest
It’s basically a list of all the lists that need writing, or things that need planning. This way, I can work through doing one thing at a time, or, if I get tired of one line of thought, can easily skip to start on another. By not leaving anything left unplanned, I’m not going to be anxious about packing and forgetting something or being too tired to cook.
This system is a result of always having forgotten something before, or having forgotten to take into account something that I’m then kicking myself for after. I don’t want to spend money on usually gross takeout food when I get home and need rest, just because I neglected to anticipate how tired and broken I would be after a convention and the stress and travel involved. It’s always something I know, on an unconscious level, but I tend to get swept up by things and forget that I’m incapable of doing all this stuff with no payback. Chronic illness sucks and it doesn’t go away, but you’d be surprised how easily the things you’ve known for years can still get the jump on you. The OCD and ADD don’t help with that, since I am always doing more than I probably should/safely can, but hey, that’s another topic altogether.
So stage one is done (or it will be, once I write these lists down on paper in a way that feels tangible and I can interact with), and close behind that, is actually working through the lists and writing down everything that’s required. It already feels like so much to do, and that sucks, but this is literally what any expedition feels like when you’re disabled and chronically ill.
Here’s hoping that the con will be worth the stress and spoons, exacerbated pain and, finally, the inevitable payback!