Turns out, my plan sucks…

So here we go again. Let’s spend most of the time this year shouting from the rooftops that I’m going travelling in search of my forever home. Prepare, plan take action and 5 weeks into the trip, I’m suddenly on my arse in hospital.

If the universe wanted to have a good laugh and let me know that my plan was shitty and not the plan it has in mind for me, well there you go, you win this round universe.

Why in hospital? Well why not give me the worst injury that prevents me from travelling too much over the next 6 months? Why not mess with my vascular system, stop me from walking more than a block and leave me reeling in pain and swollen up like I’ve been stung by 100 bees. DVT – Deep Vein Thrombosis….or the fastest way to get yourself house-bound for 4 weeks. One very long haul flight & believe it or not taking contraceptive pills and I have one large blood clot in my pelvis, rather too close to my lungs.

I have to admit I’ve been taking this in my stride (oh how I miss striding at the moment). I’m in pain, I’m hobbling around, I have a giant blood clot in my pelvis and I’m trapped resting when I love to exercise and be outdoors. There’s days I think I’m doing well and I can lift my leg on its own without the need of my hand to guide it into a pair of knickers. Then there’s days that I can barely lift it off the pillow to get up in the morning. I have 4 weeks of intense rest, no travel (I can’t even go home) and no exercise then hopefully after then I can at least exercise and get about. I think the travels are on hold for at least 12 weeks. As they say in NZ, I can ‘handle the jandel’, I will survive. I still laugh, I can still cook dinner and I still have a somewhat sound mind through this. A small job wouldn’t go amiss to keep me entertained. I am not one to sit and ponder life for too long.

Gratitude is keeping my spirits positive. I am grateful I have a base here in the UK to live in and very grateful that I was at said base when things turned to shit. I am grateful I made the choice to not board a plane to Ireland that day, but to go to the doctor instead. I am grateful that I had someone by my side the entire time. I am grateful I am so far alive. Oh hail the mighty NHS system, you are my saviours. Their advice and treatment has been top notch.

So universe, you’ve decided that Sheffield is where I am to stay for the next few weeks. You’ve probably decided there’s something I need to learn here and travelling is not serving that lesson right now. That’s ok, I’ll follow your lead from now on (for the time being, until I get pig-headed again). But why Sheffield? Why couldn’t it have been somewhere lush, tropical, exciting? I am a kiwi in Sheffield and quite often I feel like a circus freak amongst people…. ‘oh, come see the New Zealander’. I’m a rarity round these parts. Embrace the rare, hobbling, moaning in agony kiwi…she doesn’t bite…much.

So I’m here for the next 3 weeks, not doing much, just over-using the internet and watching far too much telly! Wait till the day I get clearance for take off again, with perhaps something newly found about myself. I dream a dream, to be living the dream!

Big love x