Departure Looms and a WEIRD Hospital-based Event.

So I finally got my visa!! I got the call last Friday and I guess I did the “I got my visa, I got my visa, I got my visa” dance about 7 times for my patient who began to hit me by the 5th time and danced again for my parents when I got home. Even the DJ on Radio Active 89.0 was privileged to share a moment with me and my happiness in the car. I was asked to wait patiently for Kerry (my UK agency contact) to phone me about my flights so I left her a message before she’d even arrived at work. She rang me and sounded almost as excited as me and said that I could go on the next flight if I wished. Oh yeah…..except I have a 4 day hospital admission this week for some unexpected lupus treatment. Felt a bit worried about telling the agency this tidbit but she casually said well how about leaving on Saturday? Yes. Definitely yes. Well it's actually Monday, but that's a good thing. 2 more days to squish and ditch excess luggage.


Please don’t get me wrong. I’ve had a wonderful time in NZ. Staying with my parents has been great (and no, I’m not just saying that because they’ll be some of the first to read this). Highlights of the past 54 days include:

- Simply hanging out with Mum & Dad, visiting with their friends, going to rongopai with them

- Sharing in the ups and downs of immediate and extended family life which I usually only hear via the phone

- Celebrating my birthday with my family, possibly the first since I was 18

- Skyping Mum in the morning from my bed so she knows to turn espresso machine on (and then my breakfast and strong flat white arrive 10mins later while I’m still moving to sit up on my pillow, oh the luxury, love you Mum!)

- Receiving Paul’s updates of his adventures as a policeman (every bit as exciting as we civilians think it might be)

- Watching lots of DVDs just because I’ve got the time

- Watching Zephyr (family pussy cat) appear without fail when my weetbix is first lifted to my mouth and patiently sit there while I finish as much as I can so he can lick the remnants. He then moves on to the next willing participant, usually Mum followed by Nana (visiting from Dunedin). 2 days ago, Mum called him from the second storey of our house. He was wandering in the garden, no doubt torturing some poor creature and he turned, slowly began walking to the house up the stairs and onto Nana’s bed, just to wait for her to finish her weetbix.

- Visiting my grandparents in Dunedin. So blessed as I’ve said to still be able to spend time with all four of them.

- Hanging out in Otaki with Anna & Warrick at the good ol’ kiwi bach.

- Spending multiple occasions with good friends who I usually only get to see once on my short trips home

- Having a somewhat terse (from my end) discussion with a jewellery store assistant about the clothing requirements of fuzzies as she couldn’t and wouldn’t understand why fuzzies can’t wear ‘normal’ clothes when they live in NZ. Quid pro quo was her argument.

- Being able to help out a family who are dealing with the crazy, stressful, emotional, tiring world of an acquired brain injury and share my experience to ease their load temporarily.

- A special weekend in Greytown with Mum & Dad, Paul & Shelley.

- Getting a tattoo! For those of you who’ve seen the pic below, it apparently looks quite different in real life. I’ll attempt a more realistic image at some point.

- Recognising and thinking again about the wonderful friends I’ve made in Melbourne now that I can’t just call to hang out.

- The hospital event described below.

One of the more difficult parts of being home has been being unwell. My lupus has been a little bit nasty for about 8 weeks and my usual management of it wasn’t working. This has meant ridiculous fatigue, body aches and rashes. Day-to-day it’s meant sleeping for 8-14 hours and waking up feeling as if I haven’t slept and someone has pushed my body through a flat-sheet pasta machine, staying in bed until the last possible minute and then going to work with the family (mentioned above). Poor Mum didn’t really envisage my 8 week stint here involving only sleeping or being somewhere other than home. It hasn’t been all that way, but it was quite devastating seeing her face when I did my “I got my visa” dance ☹. It’s the longest time she’s had me at home since I was 18.

I’m typing this from my cosy single-bed hospital room. I get cups of tea or grotty coffee delivered every 2 hours, quite acceptable meals at 8, 12 and 5 (small, medium or large) and a few hours of intravenous drug treatment in the morning (high-dose steroids for those in-the-know). The steroid treatment has a rather exaggerated side effect of those I take at home. I put a piece of food near my mouth even when I don’t feel hungry and it vanishes. Inhaled into my stomach before I can even chew while my hand is looking for the next mound of food. Doesn’t matter what it tastes like. If it goes in the mouth, it goes. Guess the free gym in my Coo accommodation is going to come in handy. My therapy doesn’t stop at medications and food. I attended hydrotherapy in a lovely warm pool this morning with four men in their 50s. I had a physio to put weights on my legs and guide me through various exercises to mobilise my joints (first public display of my tattoo!). Tomorrow afternoon an occupational therapist is going to teach me relaxation and pain relief exercises. I’m quite excited ☺. I’m already feeling a lot better and I’ll sort out the longer-term treatment plan once I arrive in Coo. In the past 36 hours I’ve watched 3 DVDs, read a murder-mystery in 3 hours and a few chapters of ‘Stalingrad’ in 4 hours. This afternoon I received a rather random photo of Alice, the patient in the next room standing (dressed) in our communal bathroom via bluetooth on my mobile. Yes read the last sentence again. If you’re wondering, I did knock on her door and ask ‘what the?’ out of curiosity and she giggled while her parents and boyfriend looked at me rather strangely. I had been contemplating asking her to take a trip to the fancy coffee store with me later this afternoon since she seems to be the only other patient within 2 decades of my age, but my plans have changed. Explanations I’ve thought of include:

1) A pick-up attempt. It was quite a sexy picture despite the toilet cistern in the background and if you had seen me in my swimsuit, PJ and towel combo this morning you’d have been hitting on me too. Hmm mm. Yes you would.

2) The beginning of a fun adventure that is bound to end up with one of us receiving medication via a painful route, or perhaps flowers?

3) Hospital bluetooth photo tag? I haven’t yet decided what to send back or indeed if to send one. My nurse suggested in a hushed conspiratorial whisper that I should take a picture of me in front of the urn in the kitchen but it doesn’t seem have the same zing about it.

4) The boring version i.e. she was trying to send it to one of the people visiting her, but I really cannot understand why she chose the bathroom of all places or chose to send it to the phone called 1432.6500.

Ok you know something is funny when you’re giggling constantly while typing it. I’m not supposed to admit that I’m laughing at my own words but that was a VERY bizarre and funny event. Your explanations of her behaviour would be much appreciated….