1 Year Ago Today:The Worst I've Endured.

It's weird that I remember it so clearly but I just do.

I remember because it was Anzac Day and I thought to myself "Wow.  This is the worst day ever to get sick".

I still have the scars,  you know.







I had been feeling run down and under the weather for a little while.
I had just survived school holidays at the cafe so I thought that was the reason.

It got so bad (my tiredness) that I couldn't even stay awake long enough to prepare a meal for myself.
Lyndon had to come home at lunch time and make me something to eat.
I slept and slept.

I thought it was just the flu or something.


Then there was a sore on my head.
I remember discovering it,  near the base of my skull.
It was all crusty and felt almost like an area of dandruff.
Dandruff is itchy.

I use shampoo for dandruff though so I haven't had an itchy scalp in over ten years.
It was odd.


The night before Anzac Day,  this very night,  one year ago,  I went for a shower and noticed some strange blisters on my upper torso.
What in the world?
I counted the blisters.  There were less than twenty.
A few minutes later I counted again and it had jumped into the thirtys.


Something was very wrong.


I don't know what I thought it was.

Maybe a skin irritation or something like that?


I went to bed,  my scalp still itchy.
I was convinced this was because of dandruff.



The next morning, Lyndon went to the Anzac Day dawn service while I continued to sleep (I had been doing that a lot)
When he got home he tried to tell me about it but I was just so tired and foggy-brained.

Somehow it was decided I needed to go see a doctor,  so we did that.


$100 later and I was diagnosed with glandular fever and a staphylococcus infection (that's what the crusty scab on my head and the blisters on my body supposedly were).

I called my dad and cried.
I felt absolutely awful.

Glandular fever was no joke and I didn't know how I was going to cope.


I don't remember the rest of the day.
I was still feeling very cruddy and had started taking the antibiotics I was given that morning for the staphylococcus infection.

I slept a lot.



I woke up the next morning, the day after Anzac Day with an EXTREMELY itchy scalp.


It felt like my head was in flames.

The whole thing ached and itched with a ferocity I'd never experienced.


It was 5am and I sat up in the bed and cried.

My whole body felt gluggy and utterly destroyed.
Everything ached.
The blisters on my chest were becoming hot and itchy,  my head,  well I already explained what that felt like.

It seemed as if my entire body had betrayed me.  I couldn't trust it.  I was trapped in a shell that continued to cause me immense discomfort.



Amongst my tears, I decided (or felt lead) to book a flight back to Kaitaia.
If I did have glandular fever,  Lyndon wasn't going to be able to take care of me

He was working full-time and I needed constant attention.
I couldn't do anything on my own anymore.

So the flights were booked.


I had to get blood tests done before my flight so Lyndon took me to the doctors again.
They drew so much blood.
I squirmed and squealed.

When Lyndon dropped me at the airport I couldn't stop crying.

By this point the blisters on my upper torso had spread up my chest and were now visible all over my neck.

I looked horrid.

And I was crying a lot.

No one else said anything.

I got on the plane and continued to cry.

I flew all the way to Keri Keri and my little brother picked me up.


He was not overly excited about the blisters on my neck.  I had asked him earlier to bring a pillow so I could sleep on the hour-long car ride home.

I managed to do so for most of the trip.



A little while after I arrived I went to see my dad at work.

He took one look at me and told me I had the chicken pox,  even though I'd already had them when I was 12.


He got another doctor to take a look for a second opinion.

She confirmed it was chicken pox.

I remember her exclaiming "Oh my goodness they're all down your throat, girl!" Or something to that effect.

They were down my throat.
The blisters.

I could feel them.

Within a few days I was almost completely covered in them.



I thought I was going to die.


My whole body was just one big,  aching,  betrayal of what it used to be.

A few days in I lost my ability to speak or even swallow my own saliva.


My dad got me numbing gel so I could try and eat and drink but it still hurt.

It felt like I was swallowing razor blades.



I slept almost all day.




I didn't leave the house for over a week.

Did not step outside once.

I want to cry just thinking about it.

I felt so unbelievably ill.



Lyndon wanted to call me but I couldn't talk so we just had to text.


Even though my throat was badly infected with blisters,  I still had to swallow two large pills around three times a day.



It became a blur.



I couldn't stay away to watch The Bachelor at 7.30pm.

I took many baths with a tar solution that helped the itching.

My mother had to put calomine cream on my blisters after ever bath.


Some of the blisters scarred .





Eventually I started to get better.

I returned to Dunedin ten days after I'd left.

Most of these days were spent asleep.



I had never been so sick ever in my life.




It's been a year but I still think about it.

If I had stayed in Dunedin thinking it was glandular fever,  I could have gotten gravely ill.


So I'm glad I left.  And I'm glad it's over and I survived.


But I still think about it.


It was definitely the worst thing I've ever experienced,  and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

The Wife Life (and why I love it)

Hello my wonderful blog readers,



I have been writing in this thing for 5+ years now, can you believe it?! Because I can't.


Granted I only write once a month but still, good on me for sticking with it.


If it wasn't for this blog I don't think I would ever write anything, it's a bit like being on the Music Team at church. If it wasn't for that, I probably wouldn't ever play guitar.

But I digress.




Today's blog topic is: THE WIFE LIFE (and why I love it).




Since I was up at 7am to drive my wonderful husband to work, I thought I may as well get my March Blog Entry done and dusted.


I've been married for OVER one year now.

Crazy to think how fast time has flown by.


I still remember the wedding day quite vividly, and I (and Lyndon) both stand by our belief that we never want to go through that ever again.



But marriage.

Ah yes.

Its pretty wonderful, and I'll tell you why.



Firstly let me say, even though I was 24 when I got married, I did not feel like I was too young for it. I felt it was the right time for Lyndon and I to make that decision.

To be completely honest, we probably should have had a shorter engagement and gotten married in 2014, but it didn't happen that way and we can't change it now.

I love our wedding date, it has meaning to us, so in the end I'm okay that we waited til 2015.


For some people though, maybe marriage isn't for them right now.

But it definitely is for Lyndon and myself.




I love being married!!!!




When I was engaged I felt very unsettled and unfulfilled.

I told Lyndon this quite often.

I didn't like my flat very much and didn't really want to live there.
I wanted to live with Lyndon!

I spent almost all my time at Lyndon's house, I didn't have enough money to buy groceries so Lyndon just bought them for me and I ate basically every meal with him at his place.

It was a very uneasy time.


Once we were married, all these issues just went away.


We were finally living together, and it was really easy.


For the FIRST TIME in my life, I had a whole house to myself to decorate however I wanted, to keep clean and tidy, to organise, to be the boss over.

It was the best feeling.

Not only that, but I got to see my favourite person in the whole entire world EVERY SINGLE DAY regardless of what we were both doing.

That was the biggest bonus.

Even if we were both off at work all day and even if we had social events on in the evening, I would see him eventually, because he slept in the same bed as me.

Surprisingly the whole 'sharing a bed' thing was quite easy for me to adjust too as well, and that's saying a lot because I NEVER SHARED MY BED!




After a year all these feelings have not changed.


I love sharing my space with only one other person.
I really didn't enjoy flatting by the time my good friends Joella, Katie and Xanda had all left Dunedin, so moving in with Lyndon was well overdue.


The thing I really feel like screaming from a mountain is: 
I LOVE BEING A WIFE!
Even a HOUSE WIFE!


I love cooking dinners, planning meals out, going grocery shopping, cleaning the kitchen, vacuuming the whole entire house, organising the bookshelves, wiping down everything in the bathroom, making the bed, washing clothes, folding laundry, putting things in their rightful spots.
Keeping the house running like a well-oiled machine.

Its so satisfying!

I guess you could say I'm a quintessential housewife, AND I'M OKAY WITH THAT!

I grew up in a kind of chaotic house where things were messy and the kitchen often looked like a bomb had gone off (not really my Mum's fault having three messy guys in the house, and it was impossible for me to keep it clean so I stopped trying)
But it made me really hate mess.
So with my own home, I keep it really tidy and that makes me feel better about life.


I also work at the Cafe sorta part-time, sorta full-time sometimes. It is what it is.

I enjoy my work at the Cafe too. It's a lot of the same stuff I do at home (clearing away dishes, wiping down tables, getting things for people).

It also leaves me enough time to do all my housework which is ideal.





The thing that makes being a wife so awesome for me though is the fact that my HUSBAND is so flipping cool.

He helps me with almost all my house-wifey duties. (ALMOST)




We have always gone grocery shopping together on a Saturday morning, and to be honest, it's a time that I really really enjoy.

He doesn't like writing the grocery list out so much, but once we're at the store, I think we both really love it. I'm getting good mothering practice in when Lyndon asks if we can get something we don't need and I have to say no. Bahaha. (Although a lot of the time I just say yes, since he works so hard).


Lyndon helps me put laundry out on the washing line, take it in, and we often spend Sunday afternoons folding it and putting it in baskets while watching TV. (I recommend this).

Fun fact: Lyndon is better at folding washing than I am. Go figure?????


We almost always cook dinner together, although sometimes I enjoy doing it all on my own. And usually after I've worked a 9 hour shift, I can't actually stand anymore so Lyndon has to cook by himself.

I am so grateful that he is willing and quite happy to do this though.

I have the best husband.


While Lyndon doesn't usually do any cleaning around the house, I'm actually completely okay with this. I am faster and more thorough as a dish washer, and I feel like that vacuuming and cleaning the bathroom is easy enough to do on my own.

I love being a wife and being able to provide a nice clean house for my husband, and its good practice for when we finally start having children.




I love going out for dinner or lunch with him, just talking about whatever, or going away on trips.
We don't go out very often because we'd rather save our money, but when we do its always a good time!

It's good that we both enjoy staying in a lot of the time, because we're both tired from working and just want to chill out.
It also helps that we're both gamers, so we can spend hours playing video games together.



A couple that games together, stays together.




We have a bunch of really awesome couple-friends (friends who are also a couple).

Hanging out in a big group is great because it just makes it more fun and casual.

I'd recommend this!




Recently Lyndon and I have been dealing with some really heavy and adult stuff, but we're getting through all the uncertainty and stress and I'm just trying to be there for him.

He can't drive for a year so his mum and I have become his personal chauffeurs, but I try not to let this get me down or annoyed or anything like that.

It's not his fault he can't drive so I wouldn't want him to feel worse about it.



Even though things aren't always easy in life, I feel a lot better knowing that the man I have chosen to spend it with is such a terrific person.

He is honestly so helpful and so hard working and I just feel so lucky.




I will never take him for granted, because I hear about other people's husbands and it just makes it more clear how lucky I got with mine!



Not everyone can have a husband like Lyndon.



Its good to keep this in mind when they've done something to piss you off (and trust me, this happens every so often)


I love being a wife, not because I get to live in a house with just us and clean to my hearts content, but because being a wife to such a wonderful man makes my life better.






Thanks for reading, and hopefully my next blog post is a little funnier and less about home-making.

Hahaha.

Death Is Never Convenient

Hopefully this post isn't too morbid.

Two days ago, Lyndon's grandmother passed away.
It was expected but that didn't make it any less sad to hear about.


I've been thinking about it a lot since it happened.


I found out while I was at my sister-in-law's baby shower.

I felt disappointed that we were told the news of the ending of this life while celebrating the unborn life of this baby.

But it just reminded me, death is never convenient.



I don't suppose there will ever be a time where you say "Okay, you can die now" and that's the way it happens.

That sounds really bad when I say it like that.

Indeed, it doesn't really ever happen at a good time.


Nana Greer lived a long and mostly happy (from what I know about her) life.
Of course she went through hardships, most notably the premature loss of her son (Lyndon's dad) but she made it to 92 years which is a lot older than my grandmothers ever got.

So for that I'm grateful. Sure, her passing into the afterlife didn't come at a super convenient time, but when does it ever?

That brings me to my next point.




Both my grandmothers died at inconvenient times.




My Ouma Martie was sick for most of 2013, I remember flying up to see her in June because my Dad told me she was dying.

I was distraught. I remember telling Lyndon (who I  wasn't dating yet but was laying the ground work for) that she was dying and I had to go say goodbye, Nek Minnit, I was on the next plane out of Dunedin.

When I saw her, she was still mostly okay. Her mind was all muddled though and she kept telling me she didn't know it was my birthday (it wasn't).

I said my goodbyes and came back to Dunedin. In August, a mere day before my cousin Emil's 25th birthday, she died.

Emil had planned a birthday party for that coming weekend which he had to cancel.

That one wasn't TOO BAD because like Nana Greer, it was expected.





But it was still hard.

I didn't realise til later how much I actually relied on her through the years and how much she meant to me. Was a very sobering realisation.






My Ouma Tossie's passing was even worse.

She was preparing to fly to New Zealand for my wedding, and she had a really bad fall.

She ended up in hospital.

And things just got worse from there.

She sent me a card apologising for not being able to make it to the wedding and telling me she'd give me my wedding present when she finally arrived in New Zealand.

She died before the letter even got to me.




I found out during my Hen's Weekend in Christchurch.

It was really hard because I couldn't break down and cry like I wanted to.

I was with my friends and they had come together to celebrate my last week of bachelorette-ness so I didn't think it was right that I just fell apart and lost it in front of them.

So I put the feelings of grief into a box and stored it away inside me, to revisit later.



But I never revisited it.


I told people she had died the night I found out, hoping that I wouldn't be questioned about it on my wedding day a week later.

I wasn't (thank Goodness) but every now and then I would feel bad for not mourning her death like I've done for everyone else.

If you know me you'll know that I mourn the deaths of most people and animals that I've had some kind of relationship with.

It just breaks my heart.


So the fact I haven't processed my grandmother's death was really hard on me.


I had to be happy though. It was my wedding. But there was still a nagging part of me that didn't want to be happy.



When people said "YAY ITS YOUR WEDDING WEEK!" I wanted to scream "MY GRANDMOTHER IS DEAD!"



But I didn't do that.




Like I said, death is never convenient.


I hope when I go to Nana Greer's funeral I'll have a chance to feel sad and cry and try to grieve not only her loss,  but the loss of my Ouma Tossie who died almost a year ago now.







Sorry if this blog post is morbid, but I had to get it out of my system.



Thank you for reading and God bless x