Its 11 days since we arrived back in Australia. 11 very long, hard days. I expect people to read this critically – again who could possibly want to live somewhere other than “the lucky county”?
Monday the 29th of August was my first day back at work… I tried to be positive. I got up and I arrived to work early. My boss and I had a quick chat about my holiday and a longer chat about going to Melbourne for the day on Friday. I really don’t like flying. Getting on another flight straight after I got off one was not an appealing idea. It was made less appealing but it having to occur on a public holiday that I was hoping to spend with Stocker. Humph. Okay… that’s okay. I looked on the bright side, at least I was being involved, that was a definite plus because if they really wanted to tick me off they would have held the meeting while I was away and I would have got some scratched together notes when I eventually arrived back.
As the day went on it was clear to me that nothing here had changed. Things were still as I left them… perhaps even worse in some aspects. I am still trying to make my mind up on that one. Needless to say, I am a very long way from the person who made the conscious decision to stay here in February. The director of the company who met with me along with his manager said to me “if you stay, in 6 months you will look back at this opportunity and regret it”. I hate to say it, but I think he might have been right. If things had of just stayed the same, I think I would have still been okay, it’s the fact that they are getting progressively worse that is weighing so heavily on me. Manager J is still here and I think that might be one of the big reasons I am still here. We work as a team rather than him lauding over me as “my boss” and we work well as a team. We get through more work than much larger, better equip marketing departments. That is a problem in itself though – because I think we have turned into the living proof of “the more you put in, the more that’s expected of you”. I have to keep remembering that it’s just a job. I have to stop investing so much of myself in there and just quite simply do my job the best I possibly can without getting personally involved in all the bullshit that goes on. I know a lot of people would think “that’s easy”. Not so much when you are dragged in kicking and screaming. And trust me when I say it’s the untrue things that are said about you that drag you in rather than you directly getting dirty with the people spreading the dirt. I am very disappointed, but moreso in myself. It seems my work still has things to teach me – even though I can quite proficiently do all of the tasks associated with my job. I need to hang in there now. I need to ignore all the petty backstabbing and favouritism and just get on with being fucking good at what I do. And I am fucking good at what I do.
I must admit that by Wednesday I was tapped and just sat on the couch and lost it. I was tired, homesick, still sick with the flu and the reality that my work situation hadn’t magically improved while I was away had hit hard. Stocker isn’t good with emotion, so he was more insulting that comforting – but that’s him. It was more about getting it out of my system rather than seeking approval anyway.
Thursday was my medication review. I was expecting to be in and out. I was feeling better, I was past my previous record of 7 months without bowel obstruction. I did sheepishly tell Dr Edwards that I had been self medicating. He blinked and told me that in the last test my enzymes were too high and that 50mg may be indeed enough for my metabolism. I was relieved. We proceeded to crack jokes about my mortality… He decided to do a full exam and felt a decent sized section of inflammation on my lower right side. I wasn’t feeling any effects from this – but it was painful during the exam, when he pressed on it I was soon very aware of it. Now, I didn’t exactly stick “rigidly” to my eating plan while we were away… who am I kidding, I didn’t stick to it at all. I think the most I remembered was to avoid nuts and sweet potato. There is a chance it could be just my (over) indulgence while on holidays that have thrown the spanner in the works. He fears there is something more sinister and has ordered yet another barrage of tests – I suppose I should be used to them by now… but my heart sank a little when he mentioned rotation my medication again… I am only just starting to feel better on the regime I am on now. It breaks my heart a little to think we are going to start again and I have to go through something akin to my first 8 months of Imuran usage again. More testing over the next 6 weeks will decide my fate. I am back to see my doctor on the 15th of December. I like him more each time I see him – he really does care about me… he remembers who I am… at the very least I feel safe in his medical care and that is a feeling I have never enjoyed before.
With wedding plans now in full swing, Stocker and I have had a few small blues and a few deep and meaningfulls. Culminating last night with a rather uncomfortable discussion about his emotional state. We are both so home sick at the moment that it’s really hard to think straight. I am trying to see all the little positives, I am trying to slap a smile on my face and just get on with it. We are already down to 48 weeks before we are back there and lets be honest the 2010/2011 year was full of a lot of very hard times… and we made it through that. This year is just going to be a bit hairy economically. Hairy, not bad. Just tight. You see this isn’t my first wedding so, I know with great detail how much these things cost – Stocker was a little shocked when we discussed the approximate final figure upon our return. The facts are though – this is his first wedding, he wants his mates and is family see him marry me (there is a slight warm and fuzzy feeling associated with that) and I am not in a position to deny him of that. I am in a position where I need to go back to both works, pull my head in, and make our finances stand up and sing a jaunty tune in C minor. Again looking back at 2010/2011 and the shit hole we dug ourselves out of… this should be a piece of cake. We will both be making a lot of sacrifices to make it all work… but we have never really been epically materialistic anyway. I mean our TV looks like its come out of the stone age (granted its only 12 years old) and our fridge fell apart last year sometime and we stuck it back together with tape and super glue (I thought we did quite well really…). But they both sort of work? That’s enough right?
I did promise funny holiday stories and I do have a real cracker which I will put up over the next few days – if you could see me right now I am shaking my head thinking “Crohn’s changes you life in the strangest ways”… hahaha.