A few hours into our latest family trip to Walt Disney World, my father-in-law fainted from heat exhaustion and low blood pressure while we waited for a boat back to our hotel.

We drove three hours from South Florida that morning and went straight to Magic Kingdom with my wife, Elizabeth, her parents, and our 2-year-old daughter, Radley. We call her Rad.

This was my first vacation since I quit drinking. I've stayed away from alcohol since my last checkup, when my doctor recommended I start Wegovy. Doctors have been telling me for years that alcohol is stalling my weight loss and raising my blood pressure.

Wegovy sounds extreme to me. I'm giving my health one last shot before I decide on a GLP-1, and sobriety is the only trick I have left up my sleeve.

At my last biweekly therapy session before the trip, I told my therapist I was nervous about staying sober at Disney World. She told me to redirect my thoughts: grieve my life of drinking and celebrate my new sobriety at the same time.

It felt like the universe wanted to see how strong I could stay.

Day 1: Man down at the boat dock

We got through a few attractions: Monsters, Inc. Laugh Floor, the PeopleMover, and the Magic Carpets of Aladdin. By lunchtime we all agreed it was unbearably hot, and Rad needed a nap.

While we waited for the boat to Wilderness Lodge, where we were staying, my father-in-law gave Elizabeth and me a confused look. He's survived two strokes, so we got nervous right away.

Elizabeth asked if he was OK. He said, "No," which says a lot coming from a 66-year-old man as stubborn as he is. Then, gripping the rope in the queue, he said, "I'm going down."

I got behind him to catch his fall.

Cast members called paramedics right away. My father-in-law has a well-documented aversion to water, vegetables, and really anything nutritious. He seems to survive on processed breakfast meats and Coke Zero. So nobody was shocked when he admitted he hadn't had any water all day.

The paramedics ran an EKG, checked his glucose, and took his blood pressure. It was around 80/60, which is extremely low, and they recommended IV fluids at the hospital in nearby Celebration.

A few hours later, my in-laws texted that he was fine and on his way back to the hotel.

I stayed sober through dinner at Territory Lounge.

After we put Rad to bed with her grandparents back in the room, Elizabeth and I went to EPCOT and ended the night at Magic Kingdom.

I stayed sober again.

Then the snoring started. We shared a room with my in-laws, and my father-in-law's snoring was some of the worst I've ever heard. I barely slept, and when I did, my head was sandwiched between two pillows.

Day 2: Frozen Ever After, then croup

We started the next day at EPCOT, where Rad rode her favorite, Frozen Ever After. It was a much better day. My father-in-law drank a ton of water, and I thought we were done with mishaps.

Then Rad started coughing. It was croup, which she's had before. Last time, her pediatrician prescribed prednisone. The poor kid fell asleep on me, miserable.

That night I was a wreck. Googling her symptoms only made things worse. I convinced myself she had stridor, the high-pitched, noisy breathing that can signal a narrowing airway. Then the snoring started again.

I stayed sober again.

Day 3: Dopey, Grumpy and the good stuff

The next morning, Rad woke up refreshed and wanted to go to the Frozen sing-along at Hollywood Studios. We got her back to the hotel early for a nap. Dinner at Storybook Dining at Artist Point, inside Wilderness Lodge, was a blast for her. She lit up meeting Dopey and Grumpy and collecting their autographs.

Those are the memories I'm taking home from this trip.

I stayed sober again.

We got home, and Rad went back to school. Then the school nurse called to say she had pink eye, so I picked her up and took her to the pediatrician last night.

One month down

I've stayed sober through all of it. Every time something came up that I'd love to complain about, I took a deep breath, handled what was in front of me, and kept moving.

I'm starting to think sobriety is my secret weapon for managing my diagnosed anxiety and hypertension.

This Saturday marks one month without alcohol. Next Tuesday marks nine months without marijuana and THC. I'm moving past grieving the version of myself who loved those substances, and I'm learning to love the version committed to sobriety and health.