Only a week to go.

A week tomorrow I set off on my adventure and the excitement has turned to anxiety. I knew it would happen, I thought I could handle it though, but today I feel paralysed and terrified.

This morning I have woken up anxious about almost every aspect of the trip. Worried and sad about leaving Toni for so long. I know she is going to suffer with terrible separation anxiety and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm worried about leaving my daughter here alone, it's a lot of responsibility when you aren't used to the routine Toni expects. 

Then there is the growing crisis with Covid-19, what if I catch it on the way to Australia? I'm not particularly worried about my own long term health, chances are that I would recover, more the responsibility of spreading it without realising. All I can do is follow recommended practice and keep washing my hands. 

I am worried about the homesickness which I know I will at some points feel. I haven't ever been on a holiday without feeling "I just want to be at home" at some point. This time I have no Tall to share it with. No anchor to hold me from drifting into a morose state. I just hope my wonderful hosts don't take it personally, it certainly won't be anything to do with them. 

I won't let it beat me. Despite the crippling paralysis that it brings, I am going to push through the anxiety, hope we don't have another storm (today is the fourth weekend in a row with a storm warning), and I will make sure that next Sunday I am on that plane. 

Southport here I come.

For all my readers in the UK that isn't Blackpool's posh sister, but Southport the Gold Coast. I now have a trip to Queensland planned as part of my Australian adventure. I have been looking at what the Gold Coast has to offer, and there's a lot. Obviously there are the beaches, the Gold Coast is famous for, but for travellers who want to see more and have a car there is the Hinterland, a region of mountains and rainforest, I wasn't expecting that. 

The Gold Coast has over 400 km (about 250 miles) of rivers and canals "ten times longer than Venice"and there are river cruises that go through rainforest and trips to see dolphins and then snorkel through ship wrecks, you might just get to see a turtle they say. 

A little closer to where I am staying there are kayak tours. I am really interested in the half day island kayaking and snorkelling tour.  They say there's a chance you might see dolphins as you paddle through the calm warm water, even if I don't there's the tropical fish to snorkel with. It brings back memories of Tall and me snorkelling in Turkey, a very happy memory, tinged with a bit of sadness that he won't be with me this time. 

There's clearly a lot to see and do and there's no way I can fit it all in to one trip!

Voyage of discovery

With only three weeks to go I decided yesterday to do some serious research into the place I am about to visit. I had looked briefly before, but I have never been one who revises early. The internet is a wonderful thing but I was struck, as someone whose country has history dating back two thousand years, how young Victoria is as a state. Obviously Australia has a history before it was colonised by Europeans, but that history isn't one of ancient castles or Roman settlements. There is no long line of kings and queens to learn. I know there was a gold rush and that the "Welcome Stranger" nugget was found in the state in 1869 and I know that Victoria was once part of New South Wales, separating in 1851. 

So instead I will look to the present. The places I might go, the things I might see and the adventures I might have. I found out there is a City Circle Tram that tourists can use for free all day, its hop on - hop off service allowing tourists to discover Melbourne. How exciting! I have found out that public transport uses a preloaded card called a myki. We have the same thing here in the West Midlands called a Swift card, but here the buses still take cash too. There's a special myki card called the myki Explorer for tourists, but I have to say the information on how it works exactly is a bit thin on the ground. You buy it and it gives you "one day’s unlimited travel on trains, trams and buses in metropolitan Melbourne", but it doesn't say if you can buy it the day before and then activate it. No doubt I'll find out soon enough. 

Then there is the food and drink. The Melbourne Food & Wine Festival is on when I am over. Even if I don't get there I might get to one of the many wineries in Victoria's five distinct wine regions. Pinot and Shiraz to name but two. I have to say the Shiraz I drank in the UK recently was out of this world. 

I hope to see something of the nature, it would be a shame to go all that way and see nothing, even if it is only a few birds that are a novelty. Looking at the Visit Victoria there seems to be a lot of nature to see, some of it in places that don't appear to be so far from home. Rhyll, Tenby and Anglesea (they can't spell!)

My first Valentine's Day alone.

Strictly speaking it isn't my first Valentine's Day alone, there were seventeen growing up and four during separation and divorce, but this is my first Valentine's Day without my soulmate Tall. 

How do I feel? Oddly, not as sad as I thought I would feel. I had a bit of a cry when I found out last year's cards and read the words, but once that was done I felt a calmness, a relief. If I retell the events of last year may be it will help explain.

Tall and I had never been big on Valentine's Day, it being nothing more than a commercial opportunity. Our love for each other was clear three hundred and sixty days of the year, you have to allow five days when we would have annoyed each other. Last year we both knew it would be our last and Tall wanted to make sure it was marked. He was desperate to buy me a card, but he was just too ill to get out of the car. I suppose he could have gone online and ordered one, but instead he had to send me into the shop to choose my own. I must have looked at fifty cards, carefully reading the words, looking for the words that I knew in my heart would be the ones Tall would choose. Silently, tears rolled down my face as I knew it was my last card. Another customer spotted me and asked if I was okay. I explained that I was buying a card for my dying husband to give to me and she kindly tried to help. Eventually I found my card, and started looking for one for me to give to Tall. 

I have to admit that looking at the cards this morning I slightly regretted my choice of card for Tall, I should have chosen something more serious, more romantic, although the words I wrote inside probably make up for it. Last year my heart was breaking. All the "knowing" about what was happening, the constant "this is the last time" had me permanently in tears. Tall would tell people that he hadn't got long and they would smile and laugh, "don't be daft". No one believed him and so I was almost completely alone in my grief. 

So this year there is a sense of relief, released from last year's pressure of knowing what was to come. It has happened, the worse is over. I still have Tall's words from that card. 

"I've loved you since the second we met and I will love you to eternity."

My Shrek moment.

After my rant here yesterday I felt much better. I often wonder in the days that follow whether I should delete those posts that were a flash in the pan, a very quick moment of anger or sadness soon forgotten. I have mostly decided to let them stay. Yesterday was actually important in that it reminded me of how awful life with Tall's illnesses could be sometimes. Even if I should never have felt the way I did, the fact is that I did. The paralysing panic that I felt so many mornings, evenings and nights, the panic only relenting once I was on my way to see how he was for myself. Of course I should have been more trusting of the medical staff, but unfortunately events the very first time Tall was admitted coloured my reactions for every other admission. That very first time Tall was in horrendous pain, he had asked for paracetamol and five hours later when I arrived for visiting he still hadn't had any. The line was drawn and I never trusted the system again. 

Today I miss Tall because we are in the middle of a storm. A fence panel has already been lost and the forecast is that the winds will be here for another ten hours, who knows what else might go. I miss having a second pair of hands and a second opinion. As I type it I realise that the Tall I miss is the Tall that was fit and healthy. The Tall from before 2017, the one that put decking down with me, the one who could cut the hedges and take part in life. I'm sad that Tall had to go through two years of not being the man he wanted to be. The frustration he felt would make him angry and he was often sad, although he wouldn't admit it, he always wanted be be seen as the optimist. As time passes I am able to see the multiple layers of my grief for what they are. As Shrek would say "Ogres are like onions. Onions have layers and ogres have layers." Grief is like an onion too.

Emotional deja vu.

Late afternoon yesterday I got a message from my son Tigger asking if I was up to anything over the weekend (he wants something). I said no to which he replied, can I have a bed as I' doing something with my mates Saturday. So I said yes, and went upstairs to move my (empty) suitcase. 

He drove up straight from work, buying Chinese food on the way. We spent a pleasant evening enjoying our food and watching a box set he recommended (he isn't a great talker when it comes to his mom.) I do try making conversation, but I don't like sounding like a cross-examiner so my questions tend to be short and open ended. 

After a few episodes my bed was calling, so off I went and I was soon asleep. That was until 12:50 when my son sent me a message saying "I'm just popping out to help someone." Now I would like to draw the jury's attention to the phrase "popping out". When I woke at 7:30 this morning he wasn't back. The second I saw the door open and an empty bed I became a anxious, tearful wreck. I know that as a policeman Tigger faces danger every day. I know that I could one day get a call to say he is injured or even dead. Yet, even though I an at peace with that, him being "missing" from my house brought out feelings I don't want to feel.

I was taken back to all those worried evenings, and terrified mornings, when Tall was in hospital and couldn't text, too ill to let me know he was still alive. I would call the ward, but the phone was never answered. I would spend hours terrified until eventually Tall would manage to answer me in a brief moment of lucidity. I never, ever want to feel like that again. 

I know it is a problem in my head, but I don't know how to solve it. I managed to talk myself down this morning, my son is a grown man and not my responsibility, but it has still left me feeling fragile. I realise I cannot cope with anyone being here whose actions might cause me worry. My brain flies to what ifs the second I cannot contact them, or they are secretive about what they are doing or where they have been. An ex-husband who betrayed me plays a part in my anxiety, but in truth I recall feeling the anxiety on rare occasions before that. Is it my father leaving, even though I have no memories of him ever being in my life? 

No matter what the cause, until I find a cure, I don't think I can have someone living with me. I cannot cope with the uncertainty when they are late or go off without telling me where. I am a control freak.

Ying and Yang of life

After all the happiness and excitement of the past week it was almost inevitable that there would be at some point a counter balance. This morning the happiness is turned to grief and the excitement is now guilt. I am about to make the trip that Tall longed to make himself. In what feels like the briefest of years between us getting married and Tall's kidneys failing we were trying to save, but it wasn't easy, things would happen and the money would be spent.

The cruel irony is, that by the time we were making progress with the saving, Tall had to start dialysis. Whenever the staff mentioned taking our home dialysis on holiday Tall would chirrup up "what about Australia?"  The answer was always that it would be difficult to organise. The truth, I suspect, was that it would cost the hospital too much, and you can't blame them. Tall looked into organising dialysis in a unit in Australia, but the distances elsewhere in the world are not the same as in the UK. We were incredibly lucky that Tall's unit was a 15 minute walk from the house, so a mere 5 minute drive plus ten for parking. 

For the last two years Tall wasn't well enough to go anywhere really. He bravely tried to be "normal" but it was clear for all to see how ill he was. He still dreamed of visiting Australia. Kept hoping that his health would improve, until he realised it wasn't going to. 

Now I am making that trip. Don't get me wrong, I want to go, but I feel so guilty that Tall isn't the one stepping off the plane. I can hear his voice telling me to do it for us both, and that makes me cry because I miss him. I'm sorry we didn't make it together Tall.

So my message is one that I have heard many times, I'm sure everyone has. Don't put things off because you don't know what is going to happen tomorrow. We all think we have all the time in the world, but the years slip away so quickly.

It has come to this.

Well, after twenty-four hours of searching for a carry-on bag suitable for Emirates, I have discovered this:

Kody Koala. There are other Happy Sammies available, I was tempted by Aubrie Alpaca, but Kody seems so much more appropriate. 

I'm just not sure I have enough guts to actually turn up with it!

Education is a good thing.

On the day I booked my flights my daughter came round and after I had told her my plans we excitedly started discussing what I should take. I got the small case down from the loft so we could check that it met requirements. Size wise it seemed fine, although it weighs quite heavy, reducing what I can take in my 7kg allowance. No matter we said, a few things could be in my handbag, oh how naive I am. 

It was only yesterday when I was checking online to find out what time I needed to get to the airport, that I discovered I could actually use the reference I was given to book seats (if I wanted to spend the extra) or say if I had special dietary requirements. Again how naive, or maybe it is just that in eleven years things have moved on. It was on Emirates's website that I discovered two things, the first that the ticketing only allows for one space in the name. I was in a complete panic when I saw my ticket was in the name Goodcheer Pixie instead of Good Cheer Pixie. I had heard so many stories of people not being able to fly because of a typing error, the name not matching the passport. I instantly contacted them and was reassured it would be okay. Now you might all think that's perfectly normal, but for me it is a massive achievement, it was always Tall who spoke to people and sorted stuff out. 

The second thing I discovered is, that unless you are in first class or business class, you are only allowed to carry on one, yes one, item. I also discovered that the dimensions my daughter and I had used weren't the dimensions that Emirates use, so a new carry on bag may be required. So for all of us peasants it is handbag or suitcase, it's a no brainer really. It will be weird putting it all in a case, but I'll survive. 

So the adventure is turning out to be an education too. I am out of touch with how technology is being used to check-in online instead of at the airport, I'm not sure it really helps when you have baggage to check-in anyway, but I'm ready to hear the advantages. I have learnt there is no standard size or weight for luggage and that ticketing only has one space in the name.  

Only five more weeks!!!!