This was not what I had in mind.
We flew to Florida a few days early ahead of our NCL Prima cruise out of Port Canaveral. The plan was simple: hang out at my parents’ 55+ community, lounge by the pool, eat chicken wings, ease into vacation mode. Standard pre-cruise relaxation. Low stakes. No agenda.
The community pool is one of those places where everyone knows everyone, the water’s always warm, and there’s an unspoken understanding that naps are not only allowed but encouraged. We fit right in — minus the AARP cards. The wings were good. The sun was out. Life was cooperating.
And then my esophagitis decided to make a comeback.
For the first time in seven years, I had food get stuck in my esophagus — and this time, it wasn’t going anywhere on its own. If you’ve never experienced this, imagine swallowing something that just… stops. And stays. And no amount of water, walking around, or wishful thinking is going to fix it.
That meant a 5-plus hour trip to the ER and an endoscopy to remove the offending piece of chicken. Not exactly the spa day I had penciled in. The staff were great, the procedure went fine, and I walked out at some ungodly hour feeling like I’d been hit by a very specific, poultry-shaped truck.
Here’s the kicker (or maybe the silver lining, depending on how you look at it): I’m still cleared to board the ship tomorrow. The doctors gave me the green light to cruise. But there’s a catch. A big one.
I’m on a soft food diet. No solids that require actual chewing. And no alcohol.
Let that sink in. A week aboard a cruise ship — a floating monument to food and drink — and I’ll be ordering mashed potatoes and virgin cocktails. NCL Prima is known for its dining. Multiple specialty restaurants. Craft cocktails. The whole experience is basically designed around eating and drinking your way across the ocean.
I’ll be the guy at the steakhouse ordering soup. Living the dream.
So this is going to be a cruise like no other. Stay tuned if you want to find out what it’s actually like to sail with dietary restrictions. How do the ships handle special requests? Do the specialty restaurants actually accommodate you, or do you end up staring at a menu full of things you can’t have? What’s the best virgin Bloody Mary that the premium beverage package can buy? And most importantly — can I survive a week at sea without a single real drink?
This is going to get interesting. I hope.
Two Sided Cruising 