The Sky Club Bathroom and the Lesson I Didn’t Expect

I was in the Delta Sky Club bathroom when I heard a woman say,

“I’m having a shitty time…”

That’s all I caught before the bathroom door closed behind her. Shitty time with what? The wine selection? The lack of cucumber water? The Sky Club bathroom?

A few months ago, I would’ve rolled my eyes. I mean, you’re in a Sky Club. There’s free food, bottomless wine, and seats that don’t require jostling elbows with strangers at Gate C27. Life can’t be that bad, right?

But now? Now I think differently.

Maybe she just lost someone. Maybe she just lost her job. Maybe her husband is sick—really sick. Or maybe she’s just bone-deep tired in a way that no amount of Prosecco can fix. The point is, it doesn’t matter where she is. She’s having a shitty time with something.

And honestly, that hit me even harder because we’re traveling too—and trust me, this isn’t the carefree, celebratory trip it would have been a year ago. Mike finished treatment last week. A whole week out from chemo and radiation, and he’s exhausted. Like, bone-deep, can-feel-it-in-your-teeth exhausted. But here’s the thing: he’s incrementally better than he was last week. And today? He WALKED the ATL airport. No wheelchair. No shortcuts. Just sheer determination and a will to reclaim a little piece of normal.

We’re on our way to Milwaukee because he needs something normal. Something that doesn’t revolve around cancer. Something to celebrate with the dearest of friends. Something to remind us that life isn’t just hospital hallways and medication timers.

That’s one of the biggest things this experience with Mike has taught me. Before his diagnosis, I lived in a world where the setting dictated the story. Sky Club = Good Life. Airport bathroom meltdown? That’s for people flying basic economy.

But life has a way of ripping up your rulebook. These last few months, I’ve learned that pain doesn’t care about zip codes, Sky Club access, or whether you got upgraded to Comfort+. You can be sitting in a leather chair with a glass of champagne and still feel like the walls are closing in.

So now, instead of judging, I send up a little silent wish: I hope she finds some ease soon. Because sometimes life is just shitty, and admitting it out loud is the bravest thing you can do—even if you’re doing it in a Sky Club bathroom.