"Hold on tight," my husband said, leaning into me. He could sense my anxiety building; my grip on his arm had already increased two-fold. I wasn't sure we could make it through the hallway. At least not unscathed. They were coming toward us —adult humans dressed as elves in bright red-and-green outfits with pointy hats. They were running toward us, arms outstretched. We braced ourselves for impact.

We made it past the hugging elves (successfully dodging most of them), relatively unscathed. Lucky for me, since my Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease makes me vulnerable to being knocked over by even the gentlest of well-meaning elven hugs. And lucky for my husband, a computer programmer with a low tolerance for forced participation and unexpected touch.

Forced Cheer

There are high expectations to be cheerful during the holidays. That isn't always easy for the best of us, but add in a neurologic condition, or being chronically unwell, and the holidays can be, well, a struggle.

On a good day, I might have the energy to keep our home picked up, but forget about having it decorated for the holidays. The delicious treats everyone pushes on me during the season don't increase my energy. Perhaps you can relate. Maybe the sugar makes your pain flare up. Maybe you don't handle stress well. Maybe you just don't like being hugged by elves.

I hear you.

Making a Choice

This year I attended seven corporate parties with my husband. There was usually one chair for every 50 people, large crowds to potentially send me toppling, and hours of standing on achy feet making business-safe conversations. This grueling schedule could make anyone grumpy.

But, I have a choice in how I experience these evenings. As I do for every holiday.

Being Strategic

To ensure a cheerful attitude, I employ the following strategies at every gathering. I ask my husband to find me a seat and set an empty one next to it. I ask him to bring me one of the most delicious treats he can find. (Just one, so I don't get sick.) Once I have my seat and my treat, I ask him to do the final rounds through the thick crowds without me. Meanwhile, I have stimulating conversations with anyone who sits in the empty chair. Whoever they are.  And I love getting to see and be a part of my husband's world.

Together, my husband and I face the gauntlet of running hugging elves, or whatever new obstacle might await us. And then, together, we enjoy the season.

Bethany Meloche is the author of How Should a Body Be?, a coming-of-age story about growing up in Michigan, falling in love, and learning to live with Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease. Her story has been featured in the Daily Cal, the Mercury News, Mountain View Voice, and Lower Extremity Review. She serves on the advisory board for the Charcot-Marie-Tooth Association and can be contacted through her website.