I wrote this story years ago. I’d like to post something from the trip I am on now. I have a lot to write about, but I am sick. I thought it would be easier to re-post this writing than create a new one. Somethings are the different and some are the same. I am not home, I am in a beautiful place with wonderful people and just finished teaching a weekend seminar, and then I came down with the crud yesterday afternoon. I go home tomorrow, but today is being spent on my friends sofa… It is isn’t as bad as it was when I wrote this story — but the feelings are the similar.

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“Excuse me —where do you keep the toilet paper”? I ask my host in the home that is mine for the next four days. My room, a fold out sleeper with the metal rod that fits perfectly in my back, a small table for me to spread out some stuff, but not enough room for me to unpack and I need to step over the music stand and books to get to the bathroom. And on this trip I am doing some stepping. The antibiotics I took for the infection in my mouth before the root canal I had last Thursday have left me and my “system”a wreck. Sore tummy, diarrhea and several sounds that shouldn’t come out of humans — at least healthy ones. So, as we visit at the dinner table I excuse myself and come back to ask for more paper. In just a few moments more I’ll excuse myself again. Ah, home from home.

The only thing really different here than would be at my house, is my comfort and level of embarrassment. Well, we all have been there, I tell myself they must understand, surely all of us at one time or another have felt this way and had times when we can’t control our bodily functions.

I stay at a lot of folks homes and usually make myself quite comfortable where ever I am. I adapt to the couch, foamy, bed, shower (those don’t work the same in every house) food, pets and people and most of my hosts are interested in my well being — they also want to stay up late and chat and get up early to “practice”and hope I’ll join them (I don’t often). It is when I am home from home, that my courage to be who I am comes out to play.

I try to be adaptable when I travel. I eat what is served and I ask for what I need — (“I forgot my alarm clock, will you wake me in the morning please”). On this trip, I am asking to be excused often and begging forgiveness for the foul smell coming from the bathroom.

“No really, I’ll be fine,” I say, but I think, I just need to be home.