Posted in Goa, India, Singapore, Sri Lanka, travel, True Story, Inspirational, Word prompt

Destination Goa (Part 3)

passport

 

Passport – check, Tickets – check, Phone – check, Phone – charger check, Ipad – check, Thyroxin – check.  I was anxious that I was going to leave something behind.  I was already anxious about this trip but to make things worse, just days before the departure, the Indian Government called in all the 500RS notes.  This in turn caused a massive shortage of money in the country.  Also couldn’t buy any Indian currency in Australia. And we heard reports that there were massive queues at atm machines and banks. “just our luck” we thought.

I was anxious of the unknown safety issues, I was excited about meeting my buddy and having a well earned break, I was sad about leaving hubby, son and my baby dog, (well I had to include and hubby and son to avoid judgement. But then again no shame in admitting that I was glad to lose them for a week or so to get a bit of rest, but my doggy on the other hand, I am really going to miss him).  Those droopy eyes were telling me “mummy don’t leave me”.

Australian immigration – it took me all of 5 minutes to clear.  Just like Jim Jeffreys said, Aussie airport and it’s security practices/measures are rather unique.  Not exactly unique but definitely very different to most other airports.   Don’t get me wrong, it is safe as anywhere can be.  But, just don’t have the same panic and stress ridden atmosphere.  The guy checking your passport, no sorry there is no guy checking your passport, a machine does matching for you. You have almost no human contact.  You see plenty of humans, but no one seems to care about you, they just want you to just piss off, without giving chance to form a queue.  You will be rushed through automatic sliding door after door and you are now way too early for your flight.

Took my tablet out and started to write, continuation of my story “friendship and war…” well I haven’t settled on the heading yet.  With all the travel plans I hadn’t touched this for sometime.  Read the last page I had written, did some editing.  Then continued on with the story.  Couple of times I stopped and glanced around to see what everyone else was doing.  It looked like they were practicing boredom.

Finally time to board.  Once again I had to smile sheepishly at the young good looking guy, well not sure if he was good looking, but he was definitely tall and ask him if he could put my hand luggage up in the overhead locker.  He was only too happy to oblige. Again not sure if he was happy as such, but nevertheless helped the short damsel in distress.

The problem with living in Australia is that, it is really down, down down there.  And also it is a such a huge country.  And if you are from South Australia, it takes nearly 3 hours before you can leave your own fricking country.  I watched a movie and some comedy skit on a tiny screen, with screen moving as per the front persons movements.  It was better to get back to writing.  I put the tablet on my lap rather than on the moving tray table.

Drinks cart was a welcome interruption.  “Sav Blanc” didn’t taste like any “Sav Blanc ” I’ve ever tasted.  But it was free.  Also, this was the beginning of the “girls” holiday.  So, I convinced myself, “holiday begins now”. So rubbish Sav blanc or not I had to have it.  But all in all it wasn’t too bad a flight.  Spoke to hubby from the airport.  Sent a couple of messages to Jan. But she didn’t answer.  She must have been still mid air.

I did some window shopping.  I planned what  to buy on my return journey.  Had a cup of tea, a massage, visited the butterfly garden and time passed.  Time for my next flight. The one that I was most anxious and nervous about.  Mumbai here I come.

 

Cont…

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/passport/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/security/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/luck/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/clean/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/automatic/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/nervous/

 

 

Posted in Daily post, Sri Lanka, True Story, Inspirational, Word prompt

Shiver me timbers, “it’s cold in Sri Lanka?”

 

PIC_0024

It was nearly sixteen years since we migrated to Australia from Sri Lanka.  A lot had changed since then, we’ve aged, we were now parents, I think that was the biggest change. We were not the same carefree young one’s roaming around, on a bike.  Mortgage, kids, kids getting sick, nearly losing a kid, other one losing his hearing, trials and tribulations, life was passing us with a fierce force.

So going back to the mother land was pushed back and back, until we could see a reprieve. Then, finally we make that trip back home.  After months of shopping (gifts) and packing we arrive in Colombo around midday, June 2006.  The strong waft of humidity and hot air came piercing through the corridors, with a rush and urgency.   Leaving a country in the middle of winter to arrive for this was pretty hard.

It was pretty brutal weather for the next couple of weeks. Boys were really struggling with the weather and food (too spicy for their tender tongues). The mosquitoes were ruthless, it didn’t matter if we were sitting or walking they still got us, who knew that they can get you in transit. But the boys were still enjoying different aspects of the trip.  This was the first time they were meeting their paternal grandfather. This was the first time they were eating pawkies (bite size Sri Lankan sausages), this was first time they saw a squirrel running up the mango tree.  Well, this was first time they saw a mango tree.   And that I think is the best thing about travel.  Something so mundane for the local is an attraction to the visitor.

The next week or so was going to be in the hill country.  Which is where I grew up.  The fauna, flora and the weather in the hill country, is absolute contrast to that of Colombo or other parts of the coast.  As you go further up from the coast, sea and coconut trees changes to paddy fields and slightly cooler weather.  And as you go even further up, Pine trees, water falls, light drizzle and sometimes a cold fog becomes the norm.

I was packing a smaller bag for this trip.  My husband had a glance at what I was packing. There were a couple of jumpers, a jacket each, some jeans and long pants, a beenie …  “Are you kidding me?” he holds up the beenie, “are you mad? when has it ever been that cold?” After the treatment of Colombo, the boys of course were on dad’s side. “yeh mum”

I started to doubt myself too. It was a long time ago since I lived in Talawakelle.  I still packed a few things.  But for the journey itself, there was no way the boys were going to rug up.  So the two of them were in a singlet, a pair of shorts, and a pair of thongs (okay for non aussies, they were not wearing what you are thinking of and going oh my, it is just a pair of flip flops, slippers, a footwear with just strap or what ever else you want to call them).  Okay you can have another laugh, we call them thongs.

They were enjoying the scenery.  After our lunch stop we didn’t need the A/C.  It was starting to drizzle.  It was starting to get cold as well.  We stopped for tea and cake.  And there was a giant tea pot right outside the cafe.  A great tourist attraction.  Hubby the photographer wanted a photo of this with the boys.  The boys were now shivering.  You could hear their teeth rattle and hands shivering. They were finding it hard to keep their eyes opened, with the falling rain. Dad still wanted the photo for his Pulitzer collection. Grr… It was obvious that their miniature mother’s anger and annoyance was now growing to a level of that’s enough now.

The boys were so relieved to find that one pair of pants and jumper that their mother had packed for them.  Both of them uttered “who would have thought we could have a place like this in Sri Lanka”.  Well, the moral of the story is listen to your mother, listen to the woman (okay that’s a bit sexist, well… too bad), listen to the expert.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fierce/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/shiver/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/obvious/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/miniature/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/expert/

 

 

Posted in Daily post, Word prompt

Fish Behind the Glass Wall

 

fish behind glass

My youngest Arj was about three and Hari is Three and half years older than Arj so I guess he would have been around six or seven or in between.  It was the school holidays so we had gone down to Melbourne.  Each day was where are we going today? We were ticking off all the Kid-tourist thing on the list.  Sandwiches were made. Drinks all packed. And then with all the hurry ups, have you been to the toilet and the rest of rushing we made it to the Aquarium at last.

I think we went somewhere before that and this was our second pit stop.  There was a cafe, some tables and chairs outside the cafe and a queue for the tickets for the Aquarium.  We decided to sit down for a bit have something to eat before going in.  Hari wanted to go to the toilet or wash his hands or maybe he had spilt something on his t-shirt, details are a bit vague.  I guess what happened after took precedence and stuck in my brain and the rest are just in various threads.

When Hari and I returned from the wash room, my hubby the responsible dad who was supposed to watching the little one was highly engrossed and his head buried in the local paper.  And Arj was nowhere to be seen.  I have to push away  my first thought “I am going to kill you” to aside to look for Arj.  I was so angry and I was so scared.  Arj has always been a bit of wanderer, but this was not good.  The place was packed, it was the school holidays. We were all looking everywhere and yelling out his name.

Hari spotted Arj inside the Aquarium, how did the little brat go inside without a ticket? Ahh!!  I was going to kill him, after I finish with hubby, no, not sure which one first, I frantically spurted out some words to the guard at the entrance, “that’s my kid inside could I go or could you retrieve that kid for me, Please, Please”.  I was pointing to my kid “which kid?” Alas there are millions of them there, he knew this wasn’t a woman who was trying to get in without a ticket, Probably he has kid who wanders too, I don’t know but he let me in.

There was this big Glass wall, from one side of room to the other. Arj was oblivious to all the commotion, he was just mesmerized by this big fish.  He was following the fish from one end to the other, running with fish.  My anger melted, not sure if it was just relief that I found him, or seeing him so happy unaware of all the dangers and living in his world where nothing is bad.

We had bought the tickets previously, so the guard and rest of the people on the queue just let hubby and Hari to join us inside.

Arj stops running and turns around and says ” I like this fish, I love this Fish”  And then loud and clear he goes “I want to eat it”

I could feel everyone’s gasp.  We just wanted to fade away, just wanted the ocean to open up and take us in, or hoping that no one heard it. Trying to make things better I said “but darling the fish is bigger than you”  no, things didn’t get any better, With his left hand (as he is left handed) made a gesture of cutting with cutlery, and said “but I can cut it”

The husband of the lady behind joined, and the lady pointing to Arj said “that boy wants to eat that fish”  Luckily she was laughing.  I still wanted to disappear. Ah!! so “no one heard it” was out.

Yes he was given the lecture of not leaving his parents, holding hands, stranger danger, etc etc.  Not that it made any difference the next couple of times he went for a wander.  I had vowed to kill him and my husband too many a times after that for various infringements.  But kind of happy to note that, Arj has made it to nineteen and knows his way home. My husband is still alive too (sometimes only just).

Daily post word – Glass

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/glass/

 

 

Posted in Australian Politics

Ode to The Aussie Voter

mark anthony
out of; (c) Royal Shakespeare Company Collection; Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation

I wrote this in the time when Hon. Tony Abott was our dear Prime Minister.  I thought I will bring it out to remind the Aussie voter the Chaos we had under him.  And just a bit of laugh.  We could blame the Politicians for many things but we have to give them credit where it’s due.  They are very good for a laugh.

Parody from Shakespeare’s “Mark Anthony’s Funeral Oration”

Friends, Australians, Countrymen, Pensioners, Hardworking Middle class and dole bludgers lend me your ears;

I come to bury Rudd, Gillard, even Keating and Hawk not to praise them
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Tony and his comrades
The noble Sir Tony promisealot hath told you labor was useless:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Tony answer’d it or mumbled it.

Here, under leave of Brutus sorry Tony and the rest—
For Tony is an honourable man;
So are they all, all honourable men, yes of course, when you think George Brandis doesn’t the word Honourable come to mind

Come I to speak in labours demise.
They were good for the nation I thought, stood up for 18C I thought,
Tony says they were useless
And Tony is an honourable man
Labour fought for our environment, disabled and the NBN
But Tony says we can’t afford it
And Brutas is an honourable man

They kept us safe during GFC
We kept our jobs and businesses survived
In this did labour seem useless?
But Tony says they were useless
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:
uselessness should be made of more useless stuff:
Like Baby bonus, sorry forgot that was not a labour vote grabbing idea
Yet Tony says they were useless;
And Tony is an honorable man.

Howard refused to say sorry and Rudd said sorry for all
We do not remember Rudd for that
Tony says Pink Bats, and we should follow him for he is an honourable man
Gillard passed 561 bills in her short time and so many so called great plans NDIS,NBN all up in smokes now anyway
But Tony says Carbon Tax – a broken promise, such an unknown territory for Brutus is an honourable man

I speak not to disprove what Tony spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did like them once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then, to yearn for them?

O Rupert! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with labour,
And I must pause till it come back to me.
But yesterday the word of Joe Hockey might
Have stood against the world;
Now our poor could be in par with the 3rd world.
Tony has such vision

O masters (Lord,Sir and Dames), if I were disposed to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, or Tony, Hockey, Pyne, Morrison or my personal favourite Bradis wrong take your pick
Who, you all know, are honorable men:
I will not do them wrong; I rather choose
I say bring on an early election
And put us all out of such misery
Just remember Tony is an honourable man

To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,
Yes we elected Tony and Co, not me personally but some of you knob heads did
Than I will wrong such honorable men.

You are not wood, you are not stones, but awakened morons;
And, being awakened morons hearing the will of Tony,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad:
Will you be patient? Will you stay awhile?

I fear I wrong the honorable men

Posted in Daily post, True Story, Inspirational, Word prompt

My First Voyage – MV Sri Mathi

dolphins

Daily Post – word prompt – Voyage https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/voyage/

I have  posted some parts of this already (slightly modified) on an earlier blog/post – Life on the Open Sea.  This was a piece I wrote for a book published by a friend my husband.  We all sailed together for sometime a long time ago.  Still the memories and friendship very much in tact.  He is probably the one responsible for me to start writing and the birth of “The Dreaded C Word” https://wordpress.com/post/uma197.wordpress.com/27

Here goes, I hope I take you on a voyage into my past, warning there are no sordid scandals.

My CSC Years as a Supernumerary

My life in CSC started on the 7th June 1987.  When I was asked to contribute for this book of CSC recollections, I thought well mine is going to be the only true story, considering I was the only one sober on board that ship.  There was a lot of drinking and partying on those ships but I have to admit, the ships were still ship shape, and no one shied away from their responsibilities.  This was a place where the individuals took pride in their jobs.  Captain to the Cadet, everyone took their duties seriously.  Work hard and play hard was the motto.

As usual the ship’s ETA was as punctual as a pregnant woman’s due date.  My maiden voyage was looming.  So was my 21st birthday.  I was a young new bride awaiting her 21st and her maiden voyage all at the same time.  We were meant to sail out on the 10th, just a couple of days after my birthday.  Cake was ordered and all set for the big day, my birthday party.

Ships are referred as a “she”, but I think they should be referred as a “pregnant she”, their so called ETA’s are never accurate.  This time was no different.  She came in early. She arrived on the 5th (I think per memory, well it was a couple of days before my birthday).  We finally sailed off on the 7th.  I was excited as well as nervous about the trip.

Ganesh had just returned after completing his Masters exam.  But, there were no vacancies for him to get command.  So he was made the Senior Chief Officer.  So the Senior Chief or (Super Chief as I teased him), went on board with the Supernumerary by his side.  Many eyes on the supernumerary, she was being watched and measured.

I was fascinated by the word Supernumerary.  I was just a number but just that I was a special super number.  Complimented and brought down to earth at the same time.  Things were pretty much the same at the mess table.  There was always a lot of friendly banter.  It was a lot of fun.  Felt like I was back at school, in the boarding.  I soon realised the friendships we were making here was going to be the same.  It was going to be a lifelong affair.

We were heading to the Middle East with Capt. D.J Amera as Master.  Word spread that it was my 21st.  My birthday was celebrated just after we left Aqaba, Jordan.  What a unique way to celebrate one’s 21st.  The chef had made a lovely cake, so just after dinner everyone gathered in the bar, cutting the cake, then followed by a lot of drinking, dancing and singing.  Not the way I imagined my 21st to be.  I wasn’t planning on being married by 21, let alone being married to a sailor and celebrating my 21st on a ship.  This goes to show that you can’t always plan everything in life.  I have no complains about the way my life has turned out, even though it was not what I had planned.

Sea and sea life teaches us the biggest metaphor, “Go with the flow”, yes sometimes, things don’t go the way you plan, but you ride the waves as it comes.  You still plan and get prepared for the next big wave, but when you get hit by that unexpected Seismic Wave, you are still prepared to ride that wave.

Until this trip I really had no idea that I would fall in love with the sea the way I did.  I come from the hills of Sri Lanka.  We have no sea, just rivers and waterfalls, even then it was no big deal for a Water view. So I never gave that much thought to this mass abundance of water – The Sea.  Until I set sail on MV. Sri Mathi.  There was nothing but the vast sea, day after day.  There was something serene and pure about this setting.  I came to love this journey.  This was my life, my home, my family, for the next four years, till we migrated to Australia.

Once Ganesh goes up to the Bridge, I had to fend for myself for entertainment.  Most times there is at least one other female on board, either another officers wife or the purser.  But there have been times where I was the only female on board, which meant I was the only one who didn’t really have a job to do. I didn’t really mind it. I spent my time reading, going on the bridge wing and just watching the sea, and at times being entertained by the dolphins and so forth.  I didn’t have to do any cooking or cleaning and every 3-4 days shopping in a different country.  A girl could get used to this life.

If there was another female, then I just hoped that they liked scrabble and monopoly, preferably scrabble.  I think the best buddy I had on board was Irani, 2nd Engineer Ryan’s wife.  She was a great scrabble player, unless she was struck with sea sickness.

Yes, the sea was not always calm.  She can have the biggest tantrum at times and put on a show.  I started to learn some nautical lingo (but never could work out why we had to call it port and starboard, right and left would have sufficed).  I loved pitching; the waves would hit the front of the ship, the focsle and make a big splash.  While, I admired this beauty, mother natures’ fury out on display, Irani was in the bathroom, bringing up yesterday’s corn beef.  Not the best time for either of us.  I was bored and she was sea sick.

I didn’t mind rolling although it wasn’t as pretty as pitching, but yawing made even my stomach churn.  Another down side to rough seas was that, most times the chef was unable to cook a proper meal and hence you end up with corn beef.  I hate corn beef.

I learnt pretty fast that the sea can change its mood without much notice.  This particular day Ganesh came down to the cabin as the sea was getting very rough.  I didn’t think much of it.  I was lying on the bunk (bed in laymen’s term) and reading a book.  Ganesh came down to the cabin and started to stow away the things that was on top of the cupboard and lash the cupboard.  I couldn’t understand why he was tying the two cupboard door handles together.  It didn’t seem that rough. I thought it was a bit of an overreaction, anyway who am I to advise him? While I was admiring the seaman’s knot that was now on the cupboard door, this Seaman’s slowly developing tummy and trying to read all at the same time, the ship rolled.  I departed the bunk on a horizontal manner, hit the bulkhead and fell to the floor, like a bird that would fly into a glass pane. My ever supportive husband was laughing his head off.  News travels fast in these ships.  This was news of the day at dinner.

I sailed on a few other ships after that, MV. Lanka Athula and MV. Lanka Seedevi to name a few.  We were back on Sri Mathi a couple more times. This was and is my favourite ship. I guess I could be a bit bias, as this was my first ship. Second time around we had Capt. Asoka Wijey as Master and Robert Wijey as Chief  Engineer.  Asoka’s wife didn’t accompany him as she had just given birth to a baby girl.  Obviously Asoka thought this was the best time to escape to the sea avoiding the nappy duties.  Robert had not met his (beautiful) wife at that time.  I love chocolates.  When I am shopping in Port Khorfakkan , I do what the locals do.  I followed the “when in Rome… theory”.  The Arabs have big families and big wallets.  Purchases are made by the carton.  I did the same.  I bought a carton of kit kat, a carton of twix, a carton of bounty, a carton of… you get the picture.  After lunch these two would follow us to our cabins for a chocolate.  Munching on the chocolate we will continue to talk more BS.  No one made any sense, but each one of us was sure that we were right, the other was not, and most often it was three against one. I didn’t mind as I secretly felt proud that I could hold them out on my own.

Many a times I have sailed with kids as well. No scrabble, but I didn’t mind as I enjoyed being the spoiling aunty.There were two kids in particular that I fell in love with. Chief Engineer Rogers son and daughter, bit vague on the names Shiva and Shivi I think.  Cutest little things, now all grown up and probably married.  I read somewhere the other day that “It’s not you that is getting old but your kids are”.

Along with jokes and fun times, I also like to shed light to some of the heroic work that goes on. For them it’s just another day at the office.  It was early hours in the morning, we were still asleep, Ganesh answers a call from the bridge. He says fire into the phone, looks through the porthole and then runs out the cabin without telling me anything. I looked outside through the porthole.  Rows and rows of containers, I couldn’t see any fire.  I got changed out of my pj’s.  Ganesh came back to the cabin on a mad dash, said “good you are changed, a container is on fire, but should be ok”, and dashed back up again, fire alarm went off.  I was not too keen on getting into the life boat, we had just left Fujerah and my fridge has just been restocked with chocolates, it would be a shame to abandon that.

One of the containers carrying charcoal had caught fire.  Sitting in the hot sun in Fujerah the charcoal had ignited due to self combustion.  Next five or six days everyone including the chief cook was fighting the fire. Ganesh barely slept. It was the same for everyone on board. We finally managed to reach Saudi, sense of relief, we can finally hand over this headache to the Saudi’s. Unfortunately it wasn’t that simple, they didn’t won’t to let us come in, until the fire was out.  I guess they understood petroleum more than charcoal. It was hard to explain it to them that the charcoal has to just burn down, it cannot be put out by water, we were using water to keep it under control, to keep it from spreading to the other containers.  Suggestion was put forward by the P & I Surveyor to use this container by the fire fighting training college was eagerly accepted by the Saudie’s .  It is in these circumstances that it comes to light that the ship life is not just fun and games.  When you out there in the middle of ocean, it just you and the crew, for better or for worse.  It high lights the importance of team work, proficiency, trust and commitment by each crew member.

I spent many a Christmas and New Years on board.  It’s a day for the Chief Cook to highlight his skills.  There was one Chief Cook in particular who loved the festivities. He should be called a Chef rather than a cook. He could be rated along with Rick Styne the Michelin star Chef.  Just like Rick he was well travelled and cooked many different cuisines.  However, just like Rick, struggled with the simple parrippu.  I had no complains, I could care less about the parrippu, I had four amazing deserts to devour.

Sundays was rather special, all gathered in the bar before lunch, round of drinks and darts is usually the order of the day.  Everyone was keen on giving me a turn on the darts.  That was part of the entertainment.  The dart board is mounted on a bigger plywood board.  Great excitement and cheer if I manage to get the darts on the plywood board.  It received more cheer than a bulls eye from champ. I think the rightward slant of the body and leg to balance the rolling ship is negated by the leftward slant walk and head tilt now due to the hydration in the bar, gives them the perfect stance, balance and aim at darts.  I now realise the reason for my shortcomings. A few more glasses of gin and may be a pair of stilts could have fixed my problem.

It is twenty five years since we last sailed and have migrated to a new country.  But the friendships made and the memories created, still remain in tact.  Even when we lose all contacts with someone and then we meet them years later, it starts from where we left off, and it’s as if we never left.  It was a workplace like no other. Even amongst shipping companies, CSC was rather special.The bond exists, not by the proximity of your dwelling, but rather by the memories of yesteryear.  Here’s to memories and mate ship.

… Other than my husband’s name all other names have been changed.  Just in case I become famous they don’t come down demanding for royalties.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Word prompt

Why can’t she be more Understanding

After all it’s Friday night.  Just Once a week, that’s all I ask.

A night out with the boys. Watch some footy and down a few beers.  Nothing wrong with that, is it?

Two kids under two, another one on the way, a man needs at least a day, to have some peace and quiet.

Friday and maybe sometimes Saturdays are the only days, I ask to go out with the mates.

Nothing wrong with that, is it? Why can’t she be more understanding?

All I ask of her on a Sunday, is to keep the kids at bay, aw!! @@# k this hangover will not go away

Nothing wrong with that is it? Why can’t she be more understanding?

Every time I ask for ten bucks for the horses she would scream at me “Timmy needs glasses” just ten bucks, thats all I ask.

Ten bucks!! Nothing wrong with that is it?  Why can’t she be more understanding?

I don’t think she knows how good she’s got.  All I ask is for her to be bit more understanding.

 

 

Posted in True Story, Inspirational, Word prompt

Fifty and I know it…

50

Fifty and a day old.  Don’t feel any different.  But there has been a gradual transformation. Embryo to Fifty !! Pretty good effort on my part.  Mum had five miscarriages.  I said none of that, I am COMING, here I am ready or not.  Well not exactly those words.  But that’s what I did.  Born a survivor, I am still here kicking and screaming,  time to time, I had to keep reminding the man up there about it. (it could be man or woman,  I have no issues with either sex as the god).

Embryo to Now, pretty big transformation.  Body. Mind and Soul.  Caterpillar, cocoon to a butterfly. (I think, I got a bit ahead of my self there.  So I may not exactly be a butterfly more like a moth).

The core of me is still there, but the mind has gathered more thoughts, freedom, compassion, empathy along the way.  Transformation has been slow, but it has happened.

No Regrets.

written in response to today’s daily word prompt

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/transformation/

 

 

Posted in Word prompt

Storm or a Flood

Northern Tasmania Faces Severe Flooding As Storm Weather Hits
DEVONPORT, AUSTRALIA – JUNE 06: Volunteers in kayaks help rescue the surviving cows and bulls which were washed downstream when the Mersey River flooded on June 6, 2016 in Devonport, Australia. A flood watch is in place for all Tasmanian river basins after parts of the state received rainfall in excess of 200 millimetres. (Photo by Heath Holden/Getty Images)

It rained and rained, the wind picked up, and more rain.  Rivers filled up and the sea arose, Bridges overflowed and roads disappeared.   It was the great storm.  Now the houses are flooded and the farms too.

Storm ———> Flood

Ring, ring

Hello ( Male Voice with an Indonesian accent)

Hello (Female Aussie accent)

Is that you Rhonda!!

Yes Ketut, I am on top of the roof

Is it the sunrise?

No Ketut, it’s the floods

Sorry Rhonda we dont cover floods only storm

Click!! ( should not really be a click, not hang up sound should be a dis-connected sound not sure how that goes, more like Gnnnnn…… )

 

My non Aussie readers would not really get what I am getting at.  Terrible floods everywhere in Australia at present.  Tassie is being hit very badly.  Many have lost everything.  But as usual the Insurance companies would squirm out of paying.  Apperenty they will pay if its a storm but not if it is classified as a flood.  Rhonda and Ketut are Characters from a popular Insurance company Ad that most Aussies know about.

there is a series of these ads just giving you one of them, for a taste

Today’s word prompt – Connected

 

 

 

 

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

The Dreaded “C” Word (Part 8)

cancer

I got the same nurse Lyn Lee at CCU.  She was rather surprised to see me again.  But this time around the vomiting was very minimal. The doctor explained that they removed the rest of the thyroid, parathyroid and few lymph nodes and has been sent to the pathology for testing. I was recovering quite well.  It was day four.  The doctor walked in looking chuffed.  He was very happy.  The results were back and the cancer thankfully had not spread anywhere.  So, I think we got to it before it spread anywhere.  I am one lucky girl.

 

i beat cancer

This was the best outcome we could have had.  Still I had to go through more tests to make sure that it was not popping up anywhere else.  But for the moment it was GREAT news.

We had a chat to the boys and mum and explained what has been happening for the last couple of years.  And that I am now cancer free.  Mum was over the moon.  Hari was quiet for a moment and then he said, “mum is only 5ft tall but she is tough, she will be fine”.  Arj went quiet.  Afterwards, he said almost tearful “mum, some say that they have got rid of cancer, but it comes back after five years or so, will that come back for you too, what if it comes back?” I explained that yes it could come back.  Once you get cancer, there is no guarantee that it won’t come back again.

I went on to explain further, yes, I have escaped cancer now, but I could get hit by a car around the corner and die too.  In life there are no guarantees.  But just because there are uncertainties in life we don’t stop living.  If I get the cancer again, I just have to pick up where I left off the first time and this time I have some experience.  Arj was happy with that answer.

I had to go for monthly tests and then they became less frequent, 3 monthly, 6 monthly and now only annually. I still had to go for the annual endoscopy and colonoscopy because of a little inflammation/cyst of some sort near in the intestines.  Once again my fitness level had dipped. So I met Damien my personal trainer again.  He was excellent. For me it’s not just about losing weight to look pretty.  It is more to do with being able to move my body and use my body effectively.  To feel fit and healthy.  And that is exactly what Damien is all about.  Especially when you are after an injury or surgery, it is paramount that you are careful and that you don’t make things worse.

Hari got selected to enter University of NSW.  I was so proud of him.  He worked damn hard to get there.  From a very young age he was determined to become a Robotics Engineer and now he is at the door steps of his dream.  We were looking for accommodation etc for him in Sydney.  I decided that I will accompany him to show him the ropes and help him settle in.  For the rest of the world he is an adult.  But for me the mother he is still my baby. I am going to miss my baby, but I am going to hide those tears so he can achieve his dreams.

We were busy buying and organising things for his new apartment when I received a call from my Gastrointestinal Surgeon. He wanted to see me when I returned to Adelaide.   I had a feeling that this was for another surgery.  He wouldn’t be calling to say that I’ve won a million dollars now would he, it’s more like “I am running low on cash, can I open you up?” Yep, the small inflammation/cyst thing had suddenly grown into a massive lump.  This was sitting on the junction of the intestine/ oesophagus.  Being on that junction it was like on the corner of an S bend, was going to be a tricky operation.  And essentially Dr. Bessell was trying to avoid opening me up fully as that would be a rather big surgery.  His team of doctors believed they could do a laparoscopic surgery.  This would mean easier recovery etc.  He explained that they will try their hardest to do it that way, but sometimes they might have to change course and open me up.

My friend Sally worked in this hospital as a nurse and she came to see me before I was wheeled in.  Wish she was there to see my reaction, when I woke up. I woke up to find that I was opened from top to toe.  I stroked my stomach area to see where the laparoscopic holes were.  But I felt my whole chest feel really heavy and then yes, a big cut from the top of the rib cage up to the belly button.  They’ve cut me up like I was a piece of fish, gutted and filleted, okay maybe not filleted.

This was by far the worst of the surgeries.  As the oesophagus is in the back (inside the rib cage) behind heart and other organs.  So it’s similar to a bypass surgery where they have to open the rib cage up to get to this spot. The lump was benign after all that.  But I guess considering the size of the lump and my history they couldn’t take a chance and leave it there.

Recovery was slow, but steady.  I was in a lot of pain though.  By this time we had a new addition to the family.  Galileo our little pugalier pup.  We called him Leo for short.  Leo was a major part of my recovery.  Once everyone is off to school and work, it was just me, Leo and the TV.  He knew, he could sense it, that I was in a lot of pain.  He followed me everywhere and slept on the edge of my foot.  Keeping watch and keeping company.

In time I was now back to normal.  However, with these repeated surgeries, my body had taken beating.  Also a few months after this surgery I also managed to break my ribs a couple of times.  I felt like an old woman.  Walk was very slow.  My back hurt, my shoulder hurt and I had gained weight.  I was still my positive self, happy and chirpy. Everyone around me was happy to give the excuse that I have been through a lot and carrying a bit weight was the least of my worries.  They were not wrong, and I was happy to accept the same.

However, I was now convinced that I had to meet Damien again. If I am going to live, I am going to live well I thought.  I wanted to be able to everything I did when I was 21. I had cancelled my gym membership by this stage as the gym was not willing to put a stop on the payments when I go in for the surgeries.  I had whole heap gym equipment at home.  But I was worried again, if I was safe to use them.  Damien had left the gym.  But I managed to track him down.  He had opened his own gym.  A small boutique gym.  I started with him just on single personal lessons.  Back to Square one, or more like go backwards after each surgery.  One step forward and two steps backwards I thought.  Still I was prepared for the hard work.  Slowly I got the confidence to join his group class.  First class was just pure murder. But slowly I could feel my fitness improve, lose weight and feel great. I am probably still one of the weakest members, in the group. But it doesn’t matter.  I am not holding the gauge against the others, this gauge is a personal gauge.  The race is mine, and I am still winning the race.

18th September 2015.  With Damien’s encouragement I decided to take part in the City to Bay fun run.  As the day grew closer I felt very emotional.  Just an year ago I couldn’t walk 1k, now I am preparing to run 6k.  I wasn’t sure if I could really do it.  But I was going to try. I was going to give it a real go.

city to bay

I was very emotional that day.  When I saw the finish line, I realised this was really a start line or could say restart line.  My life starts again.