The last month has been an ordeal. I have been tired, sluggish, exhausted and lethargic to the max. I have had difficulty walking from my car to my office. I have had breathless attacks and palpitations. By Melbourne cup day I was thinking there is no way I can go to the school sports as I will not be able to walk around the oval with the students. I had tried to get a blood test the day before but the nurse could not find a vein. I presented myself again to my Russian doctor and was sent off to Pathology where they have fine needles and its no problem to get blood out of anyone. I then had a chest xray making sure I parked as close as possible to each venue so that I did not have to walk far. I was so buggared by those two activities that I drove home, went to sleep and woke up in time to see the Melbourne Cup and miss at least eight phone calls. I thought it was a colleague reminding me of a meeting at the Royal Botanical Gardens that afternoon but oh no, it was my doctor ringing. She had even rung my mum, who rang me to tell me to ring her back. I was ordered straight to hospital with a blood count of 39.How had I been walking around. Why had I not fainted and collapsed while walking or driving? Dunno. I am old Irish stock on both sides of the family and my father is surviving Parkinsons so I hopefully inherited some of his tough old boot strength. Into hospital I go. I order a taxi which takes me to emergency. I line up behind a drugged out skateboard who needed a band aid on his knee and when he did not get one big enough decided to throw his skateboard at the unbreakable windows, but the only thing that hurt was the reverberating noise. Security was called so he raced off, giving us all the finger. By this stage I am definitely feeling fragile. The nurse finds my paperwork and ushers me into emergency where I promptly burst into tears. Shock or terror or both. I was laid on a trolley and the bloody awful blood tests began. There was also the issue of inserting a canula into a non-existent vein but I really don't want to think about it. I had oxygen. I waited for the doctor who kept talking about 'internal bleeding'. I am thinking 'No I have no sign of that!' I just feel awful pretty much all the time. Then the brain worked and went, blood loss ie internal bleeding. I had no sign of it - no pain in my ovaries, no blood in my stools, no gut ache. I was a mystery to them all. I waited for family to call but there was no mobile reception in the the emergency department so I just watched the goings on around me. I heard a man next door with chest pain who had recently had a double b-pass and then I think I closed my eyes for a rest.
I was taken up to the ward and told a blood transfusion was next. I had to sign a paper saying that I accepted the blood as there is a slight chance I could have a reaction to it. By this stage I did not care. Feel better. What's that? I have been feeling so crappy for so long. I had visions that I was permanently going to be in this crappy unwell state - but no fear - blood makes it better. I am 0+ common as muck and I thank those people out there who give blood; as I feel so much better now.
I was kept in hospital for a week, and starved, as they had plans for me - a gastroenteroscopy and a colonoscopy which kept getting postponed. Drinks and jelly were my lot. How I looked forward to raspberry, orange or lemon jelly. Down to the day operations area, lying on the trolley, pale and fragile, and the anaethetist refuses to sedate me saying my blood count was still too low. I had endured a bowel clean of thunderous proportions for nothing. It was postponed a week. Bloody hell! Cannot say enough about the kindness and care from nursing staff as I had never been in hospital that long before. I was taking the least amount of pills compared to other patients and was just resting. They were all shake, rattling and rolling every night at pill dispensing time. I had a puff of my puffer and a drug to help control food acid in case I had a gastric ulcer of worse a stomach cancer. I knew I had no pain so I felt safe.
I wasn't looking forward to being knocked out, but it was quick. One minute I am looking at the anaethetist saying' I feel funny' and then I roll over and the surgeon is talking to me, and then I am gone. I wake up in recovery. The weird thing was my hearing came back first, and I woke up talking in response to a conversation amongst the nurses, then my brain kicked in. My initial response was 'amazing'. Its over and I am feeling alright... Yippee. A two hour wait and I see the surgeon who tells me ' No we did not find anything'.
I spend the weekend relaxing and then receive a phone call from a friend in Fiji who had just been back to the states, and had a blood test for a parasitic worm that lodges in the intestine. I also received another call from friends who had lived in Jamaica who suggested the same thing.
So now I am off to have another blood test - for this rapid blood loss - and yes it maybe caused by a parasitic worm in my intestine. Lovely!
In the meantime my beloved Chita in Fiji has been struggling through some issues himself. We are handing over the cafe to Fabi and Dege for two years. In return they get a bure on the beach and will renovate, maintain and upgrade the buildings. We will be setting up two businesses - they are having an art business and we will run the food business. I am never having partners again- the only partner I want is my husband to be. He has not spelt out to them that he will be in Australia for two years so they think he is around to work the business and be a partner. He had a meeting last week with them over a bowl of kava to sort out what is going on.
The visa - what can I say? Its been a bloody never ending story and I cannot believe it has taken this long and we still do not have a verdict. Chita had his interview in Suva on October 21st and then my migration agent received a request for more information. I rang and asked for clarification of when - the last six months or the last four years.
His response - this is highly irregular.
I had been trying to tell him how the Embassy in Suva worked but he would not believe me.
His next response was even more inappropriate - I am sorry Amanda but I think you are a genuine candidate but he is not.
Who bloody well asked you for your opinion, when you know nothing. I was flabbergasted.
I then reiterated that the Embassy in Suva loved lots of paper, loved to ask for more and more of it, and that it had nothing to do with Chita.
I asked him to send an email asking for clarification. A week passed and he did not ring. I rang him on the Friday and he did not answer his mobile but got his wife to answer. He's busy. Ring Monday.
Time is passing. I am reliving my visitor visa application of last year. It got to November and the applications for visa closes. Then the Embassy closes for Christmas and then it will be New Year before anything happens. I just do not want to repeat last Christmas on my own - with family, saying 'get over it, you knew it was going to happen, they don't let Fijians into Australia easily you know' And when did they all become Immigration department agents I ask myself.
Anyhow I applied pressure to the greek agent with a volcanic response. My sister in law decided to call him and ask him if he had sent the email. He hung up on her.
Great weekend that was. I sent an email authorising her on my behalf as he never seems to listen to me, and never pays any attention to what I say about the embassy in Suva. I have applied three times already; I am not a novice.
Anyhow rang him who must be obeyed and never questioned on the Monday and he was ready to pull the pin. I will not work through someone else. I managed to calm him down and get him to confirm that he would call the embassy and find out.
I waited Tuesday, Wednesday and then Thursday to make sure.
Amanda it is really difficult to call the embassy in Suva - you were right. They do want lots of paperwork. Yes the embassy does stop taking applications in November and yes they do close for Christmas and New Year.
A cheap victory. I just want Chita here.
The Friday before I wilted,and wandered off to hospital, I copied all the phone account, my text to Chita, his texts to me, a sample huge phone bill and my bank statements - with something actually in my account. The following Monday I dragged my tired body to my sister in laws work where she scanned and emailed them to he who must be obeyed.
The next day I was in hospital - so not bad. I have just had an email today asking for one more form which we have already filled out, but who cares lets do it again ( maybe it was misplaced) and Chita is picking up a copy from a friend of ours in Votua who has a computer and printer. Yippee!
We are at the last stage. He could be given the thumbs up in the next couple of weeks. All I want for Christmas is Esita Tubuna in Tassie.
I rang him today and he was flat. If I don't get the visa - we will think of something else. What? I can't get a job in Fiji. He can't get a job anywhere else. What hope have we got?
He has to come to Australia. Its the only way to give ourselves freedom and lots of options. I will not give up. We are so close I can feel it.
I am wishing, and hoping - no intestinal worm for me, and a little stamp in a kind, gentle Fijian male's passport - which will bring a slow beaming smile.
Santa are you listening?