Packing for a quick trip to Las Vegas used to mean planning outfits, scouting restaurants, and mapping out fun things to do between games like sightseeing or wandering The Strip. Now, living with Fibromyalgia means something very different: calculating energy like it’s currency and deciding, carefully, how I can afford to spend it.

One weekend in January, we drove six hours for my son’s soccer tournament, and by the time we pulled into the hotel parking lot, I already knew I had overdrawn my account. Sitting that long in the car triggered a horrific flare-up. The deep muscle aches crept in first, then the burning nerve pain, then the bone-deep fatigue that makes even lifting a suitcase feel impossible. I tried to will it away. I stretched in the hotel room. I took a hot shower. I rested. But Fibromyalgia doesn’t negotiate. What started as stiffness turned into a full-blown, horrific flare-up by the first night.

Meanwhile, Las Vegas buzzed just outside our window — bright lights, themed hotels, endless energy. I’m really not a big energy and late nights kind of person, but Las Vegas has always intrigued me enough to want to go and explore with my husband and son. I imagined seeing the Sphere at night or even the water fountain show at The Bellagio, laughing, maybe grabbing dessert somewhere over-the-top and glittering. Instead, I spent most of the trip in the quiet dimness of our hotel room, curtains half drawn, conserving what little strength I had for the soccer games.

Fibromyalgia forces choices that don’t feel fair. That’s the cruel math of chronic illness. If I used my energy to explore, I wouldn’t have any left to sit on the bleachers and cheer. And being there for my son — that mattered most.

So I chose the field over the fountains. I chose cheering him on as he broke through the opposing teams defense and set up his teammate for a goal over neon lights. I missed out on themed restaurants , exciting dinner shows, and crowded sidewalks. But I didn’t miss the games. I chose rest so I could show up and see him beaming proudly as he played his heart out. 

Fibromyalgia forces me to choose carefully. And while I missed out on Las Vegas, I didn’t miss what mattered most.

P.S. – We could see the Sphere from our hotel room and had dinner with our son’s teammates at a restaurant right across the street from the Allegiant Stadium (my dad was a lifelong Raiders fan so I wanted to see their home field), so I guess we did do a bit of sightseeing, ha!