Prague and Berlin

In the last week of November of 2014, Joyjit and I went on an adventure to Prague and Berlin. 

First stop: PRAGUE.

After an early 4 am start plus a long hour and half plane journey, we finally landed in the golden city. Since we were exhausted, the first thing we did once we cleared customs was to sit down (again) and use the free airport wifi because we have no life.

Prague airport. Joyjit working. 

Vltava river This river is crossed by 18 bridges including the famous charles smith bridge which you can see in this photo.

So Joyjit decides to get sick on the first day that we arrive.
Well done Joy. 

First photo of us in Prague.

Astronomical clock.
Every hour, the bells ring and creepy puppets appear in the windows at the top

Charles Smith Bridge.

Prague Castle. 

Even the toilets are pretty.

 

Example of a Prague menu. Seriously. All the restaurants around us served the same dishes.

This statue was one of the many beautiful statues seen dotted around Prague.

Yes. We purposely dressed the same because we wanted to be one of those cute couples who do that.

Yellow beer for me. Brown beer for Joyjit.

Tradelink patisserie. One word: Delicious.

Jewish Cemetery. Over 80,000 people were buried in this very small space.

See the fish picture on the tomb?
Each tombstone had a picture on top to depict that person's profession. It is highly likely that this person was a fisherman. My tombstone will probably have a over toilet frame or some long handled aid. 

On the train to Berlin. 

This was only a four hour journey. When you cross that border from the Czech Republic into Germany, it is a obvious change in the scenery. There is a sudden transition from run down and empty buildings that are in shambles to modernised well kept buildings. Even the train voice changes from soft  Czech accent to a strong and sturdy German accent. Willkommen!

 Second stop: BERLIN

I wanted cold weather so cold weather is what I got in Berlin. I, no joke, had to put on all the clothes that I had brought with me. By this stage, I had caught Joyjit's cold (which I suspect was a chest infection) so had become slightly delirious whenever venturing outside. Anything furry, even a rug in a store, would catch my attention and I would find myself thinking of how it would make a nice warm sock.

Joyjit weather proofing by putting on that second layer of underwear.

Christmas markets!

Wonderful, glorious and steaming hearty soup!

Berlin Memorial wall

Upon reflection, the pictures that we took did not really capture our full experience in both cities. For instance, it could not capture, in time, the many wonderful hearty dishes that we gobbled down quickly; or that gasp of wonder and awe at the amazing structural design in Prague. It did not capture the friendliness and dry sense of humour we came across in Berlin; or that bitter chill that reached deep down into our bones. Thankfully, it also did not capture our beanie hair.


In summary though, we did agree on the following:

1. We are lazy tourists. Most of our time was happily spent lounging in bed and watching movies. I have a feeling that even if we had been well, this activity still would have been a priority. 
2. We are terrible terrible photographers. We had taken many more photos but they are bad. So I am sorry about that peeps, we are working on it. I am trying to convince Joyjit to purchase one of those selfie sticks (ha ha).
3. We will definitely visit Berlin again. Prague, even though one of the most beautiful cities I have seen so far, is good for two days and nothing more. 

Diaries of a hypochondriac

Health problem 1: 

Over the last month, I have had an uncomfortable sensation in my right knee cap that has now progressed to pain upon most knee movements. I experience great difficulty negotiating steps; I am now the one who causes a traffic jam of people whenever I am ascending or descending stairs. I hobble, I hop and I stop to rest a lot. To all the old ladies and men that I have cursed under my breath for taking too long to mobilise, I am sorry; truly, I am sorry. 

Luckily I am surrounded by physiotherapists who, after poking and prodding my knee, have collectively diagnosed my problem as 'Patella tracking syndrome' or more commonly known as the runners knee. Apparently it is an overuse syndrome and according to google, very common in atheletes. I wanted to laugh in disbelief because I have not exercised properly in years. I could not, for the life of me, figure how I could have this problem. I thought long and hard about it and finally identified the cause. First, I rationalised that this discomfort began shortly after I had moved to London; then I remembered all the walking and my poor fitness levels; then I realised that I only ever used the car to get anywhere in perth; then I stopped complaining about my knee altogether because it doesn't sound impressive that I got it from an increase in walking.

Health problem 2:

As mentioned in my previous blog, I had a sudden onset of lower back pain yesterday. I had just finished using the disabled toilet at work. Yes I know, why the disabled toilet? In my defence, all the other toilets were being used and I was busting. Just as I was about to unlock the door, I felt this sudden onset of pain in my lower back/backside. It progressed to a heavy weird numbing sensation and I could not move my legs. So there I stood with one hand on the door handle frozen, silently freaking out. I was too embarrassed to call out for help. So when I felt it was safe, I managed to grab a rail with my other hand and then like a crab, I slowly walked back to the toilet to sit down for a bit. Thank god I was in the disabled toilet. 

In these few moments, my crazy mind was out of control "Oh my god, I'm paralysed. I have a tumour on my spine! Joyjit is going to leave me, he won't want to look after a disabled person; he's going to have to get me a wheelchair. Oh no I will have to go downstairs to A&E and stay at work longer. This is so inconvenient!". Anyway, to cut a long story short, I was FINE. The pain is not as bad but it is still there. I am now even slower when negotiating the steps. I don't know what it is. It is a pain in the ass, seriously it is a deep throbbing pain in my ass. The physios suspect that I have had a muscle spasm so the remedy is anti inflammatories, rest and then strengthen with Pilates.

My body is breaking down and all I have done is eat, sleep, sit and perhaps walk a bit more than I did when I was in Perth. 

Here is my theory:

The risk of injury is high if you are an athlete.

The risk of injury is just as high if you are not an athlete.

Solution? surround yourself with physios. 

Gratitude

Good morning London, I am so grateful to see you; as always, you faithfully remain just outside my window in all your grey glory. I am so thankful to be here.

I used to look in the mirror and hated what I saw. So much so that I would avoid most mirrors except, of course, when I had to get up in the mornings to get ready. I would slap on some make up and attempt to dress well because sometimes it would make me feel better; sometimes it would mask the crap human being that I felt I was.  In my mind, an epic battle raged and unfortunately, the light was fading. I could not turn that annoying voice off in my head; I am ugly; I am a loser; I am stupid; I am a bad daughter; and the worst one - I will never be good enough.  My expectation of myself was so high that not even God could reach it. I felt like I was failing in life all the time.

One day I woke up and told myself to fuck off.

It was great.

I employed the strategy of bombarding my mind with positive material whenever I had that urge to be unpleasant to myself. Now, I collect and store favourite pick-me-up websites or articles on my iphone for quick access.

Here is one of my favourites:
www.marcandangel.com

and I love this article:
http://www.marcandangel.com/2011/08/30/12-things-happy-people-do-differently/

But what I really wanted to share with you today is this wonderful journal that I purchased for myself a month ago.

It reminds me to practice gratitude everyday. It is such a quick and simple task but yet so powerful because when I focus on what I am thankful for, suddenly the world becomes that much more perfect. 

Today's entries:

I am happy and grateful that I can afford a heater to keep me warm at night.

I am happy and grateful that I have sensation in my face because then I could enjoy the crisp cool air on my face when I walked to work today. 

I am happy and grateful that I don't have a tumour in my spine (I had a sudden onset of pain in my lower back yesterday which has now resolved with anti inflammatories. In my initial moment of panic (I couldn't walk), I was convinced that I had a spinal tumour but I will tell you more about this in the blog to follow.).

So what are you thankful for today?

Third day of work.

Third day of work today and I just want to stick my head in the sand. 

I didn't admit this before but secretly I had been desperate to get back to work. I was ready to meet my new team, excited to start my role as an OT, and prepared for the onslaught of endless patients. I was so ready that I called the team the week before and asked to come in for an informal orientation session. I know, what a kiss ass. 

Third day of work today and I just want to stick my head in the sand. Oh shit did I already say that?  

I have worked as a locum for most of my career life so I am used to being thrown into the deep end. I can almost immediately carry a case load and clear waiting lists with hardly any induction. So really, this should be a piece of cake. 

Third day of work today and I just want to stick my head in the sand. Yep I am pretty sure that I have already told you that.

During my informal orientation the week before, I had been given a chocolate freddo from the IT team as I handed in paperwork for processing. Next was a brief introduction to the ward staff and again, I was offered a chocolate donut or a chocolate muffin. I can't wait to start! I had thought to myself. 

Third day of work today and I just want to stick my head in the sand. I think you get the picture. Ok I'll stop. 

It was not until my first formal day when I had a proper look at Central Middlesex hospital. This hospital welcomes you with a false sense of calmness as you walk through the sliding doors and enter into its modern and new looking foyer. Everyone is lovely and so helpful. Everyone is so smiley.

I had been promised a two day induction which I quickly realised was not going to happen. Instead, I was given a list of patients before I could even scratch my head, sorry I mean quiff (yes, the quiff is back). Ok cool I thought to myself, I can handle this as I was ushered into a handover meeting. The sister, a registered nurse, began reading out names on the ward list. 

Say who? I quickly looked at my list; it was something something Sarsani or did she say Wapadopoulos? or was it Tsa Tsa?

The doctor chimed in to give a detailed medical report on Sarsani or no I think it may have been Tsa Tsa. 

Say what? I had to ask the doctor as politely as I could to please slow down because I was having a hard time following his english accent. Thankfully, he found this amusing and laughed. 

I then spent the rest of the day looking for things.

I walked into day 2 with a spring in my step, determined to be more productive than yesterday but more importantly, determined to stay positive. 

Finally, I saw my first patient; I completed an assessment and put together a plan for her. I would say that it took me about an hour. One down! I was starting to feel good about myself until I realised that I had actually seen the wrong patient. Shit. So I had basically spent 45 minutes with the wrong lady while the right one was in the bed that was directly next to us; it was a room with 4 beds. But as luck would have it, both ladies were elderly and fairly deaf; so despite me yelling/calling the wrong lady by the wrong name, neither picked up on it. 

That's ok. I at least managed to be more productive and had even booked in a home visit for the next day.

I cautiously approached day 3; I had come up with a plan to effectively tackle the day and prayed a little as the hospital sliding doors closed behind me. 

The NHS now provide a 7 day OT service so that means weekend working. My senior had worked the weekend hence having the Monday and Tuesday off. So she rocked up today. I was glad because it finally meant a proper induction and some direction. 

I didn't get either. She was flat out.

So I carried on and went to assess a patients home. Next thing I knew, the neighbour (who had let me in) had contacted the patients son. I don't know what she had said to him, but he was mad. By the time I was handed the phone, he was screaming. Something about how I was heartless and pure evil for pushing his 90 year old father out of hospital just to free up a bed. 

Oh hello public service, so nice to meet you again.

With that, I returned back to hospital and handed in my dates for annual leave.

Third day of work and I just want to stick my head in the sand.

Strike one against the housemates

My weekend was brilliant, a total relaxing one with Joyjit which ended perfectly with the 'Back to the future' trilogy on Sunday night. I was in bed by 10pm ready for a good night rest in preparation for my first day of work. For some reason, at 1am, my house mates decided to have a very loud conversation in middle eastern/english language in the kitchen; the kitchen is next to my room. I thought that they were having an argument and from the sounds of it, it was getting out of control. I mean what other reason could be urgent enough for housemates to have a conversation at 1 AM!? I thought that I might have to intervene but shoot I didn't know what the number was for emergency in the UK. So I googled it incase shit got real (It is 999 btw if you readers wanted to know). Anyway, I listened more carefully and finally started to piece together what was being said. It turns out that the ass holes were discussing the best way to diet.

I didn't know what to do. My internal dialogue was going mental.
Do I go out and ask them to shut the hell up and risk being the dickhead housemate? I don't even know them that well! or do I just lie here and hopefully they will stop?
Passiveness kicked in. So I waited another 10 minutes but the conversation did not sound like it was going to end.
Ok should I just go out and ask if they were alright pretending that I thought they were having an argument? or should I make a lot of noise in the room? Maybe I should pretend I am going to the toilet in hopes that they will get the picture? 
Passiveness really kicked in. I decided to use a white noise app on my phone and tried to go back to sleep. No go. I could not drown out their voices with the white noise. I was becoming increasingly frustrated and started to curse and call them every bad name under the sun. Quietly, of course; I didn't want to wake anyone else up. I must have tossed and turned for awhile because when I next looked at the clock it was 2 AM!

Finally I had had enough. I was so angry that I jumped out of bed and stomped towards the door. Just as I was about to open my door, I realised that it was silent. Well kind of. I swear I could almost hear the housemates holding their breath. Next thing I heard was the scuttling of my housemates each returning to their rooms.

Awesome. I sure showed them (not)!

Harrow London!

I am sat on my bed in my new room; finally, I have a moment to breathe. Relaxation mode has set in: my weekly facial done; delicious dinner consumed; I am tucked into my newly washed bed linen; and I have a cup of hot steaming tea beside me. #winning.

The Perth goodbyes were very emotional so I welcomed the craziness that came with the last 7 days as a distraction. It turns out that the hospital accommodation I was promised fell through; this meant a mad rush to find the right place to live in. It also meant a lot of walking. I didn't realise how unfit I had become until Joyjit pointed out that I was panting and leaning heavily on him after a 15 -20 minute walk. I had forgotten that no one in London uses their car to drive 5 minutes down the road to the shops; otherwise, I would have trained for this.

I viewed about 5 different properties that were no good for a variety of reasons: weird people; weird smells; too dark; too small; too far to walk; and one place requested vegan only (even my vegetarian-ness was not enough!). The well located places in my price range were fast running out and I found myself having to search for rooms further and further away from work. I was becoming stressed, I was becoming moody and I wanted to stop walking so much. First world problems, as Joyjit would gently remind me, which pretty much shut me up.

Suddenly, we were down to the last place that was in the same suburb as the hospital. The next potential place would be several suburbs away. Well someone must be watching out for me because this room ticked every little thing that was on my list: close to work; within walking distance to a massive sainsburys; bright room; great price; clean; and very spacious. I cancelled the next rental viewing on the spot and snapped up the room before the agent could say desperate.

The place.

Poor Joyjit being dragged around with me

I became one of those people who bring small suitcases to ridiculously cheap stores like Primark and Argos

View from the window

Nothing beats a 2 in 1 dressing table/clothing drawers

The royal headquarters

Big grin!

Next week, I will begin my new job as a rotational Occupational Therapist at Central Middlesex hospital. I will let you know how it goes. X

Why am I going back to cold weather and whinging poms?

I am sitting on my ikea couch, finally having a moment to still my mind and be conscious of my nearly emptied out shed (aka my granny flat). My life has been neatly packed into 4 boxes.

I am finally here, but it certainly did not feel quick to get here.

My life for the last year has been entirely consumed by this move to England and with it, of course, came a roller coaster of emotions.

I suppose it is time to let the cat out of the bag.

Please do not try this at home.

I am pregnant.

Just kidding. But this is what I told my mum right before I announced that I was moving back to England. So you could say that she took the news well once she had recovered from the pregnant statement because apparently, nothing could be worse than a single asian pregnant woman in the twentieth century.

Next came the million dollar question, "Why?". So I rambled on about how life in the UK was great, less sun, more rain, cold weather, fantastic lifestyle etc. She saw straight through this and in more or less words, told me to cut the bullshit.

"You are doing this for a boy".

Yup. She hit the nail on the head.

I suppose I should explain.

When it comes to talking about my current relationship status, I always approach with caution. I have this irrational fear that if I announce a new love loudly and proudly, I will jinx myself. Of course this would mean the immediate demise of the relationship and the world would end and worse of all, another ex would be added to my ex collection. So for irrational reasons, I kept this quiet to the world by not changing my relationship status on Facebook.

But now that crunch time is in 8 more days, I guess I really should let the cat out of the bag. Just who is this mysterious man that managed to trick me into moving my whole life over to the England? Well. You know the saying that a picture is worth a thousand words...

The Bindian

We had met ages ago in 2010 but we finally got together last year when I went to visit the UK. Now he will tell you that I tricked him into this long distance relationship but don't be fooled. Just look at his picture, would you trust that face?

Unfortunately, I did. 

Now I find myself in an empty shed with a one way ticket to London :).

My decision to go was not always met with positive responses. Particularly since I had made the decision in a week after we had only been dating for a few months. Yeah I can see why family and close friends were screaming about red flags popping up everywhere. But I could also see me holding a big green flag and doing the macarena. It is all about perspective, I am 30 with another, hopefully, 40 years ahead of me. I am young, so now is the best time to take risks and take chances because there is plenty of time ahead to make up for anything that needs to be made up.

Besides, sometimes you know that a decision is right for you, even if there is no clear logic behind it, because it just feels right.

Now here I sit, packed.
I have my sponsorship visa in hand.
I have my airplane ticket.
I have a job to go to.
I have my life.

Now all there is left to do is to just go.

But geez louise I am hating these goodbyes.

He loves me

From the moment I first laid eyes on him, I was caught hook, line and sinker.

My love level went from 0 km per hour to 220 in an instant.

I loved him whole heartedly and I did not even know him. 

It was a dangerous kind of love. 

The kind that knew no boundaries, no conditions and no limits. 

I was a goner from the start.

You could say that I was transient for large chunks in time. So I suppose he never had the chance to get to know me well. I guess that kind of makes me feel better if I think of it that way.

But in hindsight, I do not know how I managed to get through every physical and emotional rejection that he threw my way.

I would try to give him a hug. He would push me away.

I would try to kiss him on the cheek. He would turn his head.

I would say hello. He would refuse to say it back.

He would clearly state no to every expression of love that I offered to him. It was gut-wrenching. But still I would come back for more.

I tried different tactics and strategies based on advice from friends and family.

"Spend more time with him"

"Maybe you are just too full on"

"Bribe him with food"

"Try not to look too eager"

I did this. I did that. I did it for the last two years. It didn't feel like anything was changing. It didn't feel like our relationship had improved.

But then just the other day, something amazing happened.

I told him that I had to go. He asked me to stay for ten minutes longer.

I asked him for a hug. He walked into my arms willingly.

I told him that I was leaving for England, he asked me why would I do that?

I promised him that we would Skype. He agreed as long as we skyped for every day that I was out of Perth.

I told him that I would visit next year. He said okay, but when I did come to visit, could I just stay?

***
These photos are a little bit outdated but for some reason he does not like to take photos (especially with me). I am working on it though.

It has not been easy. But I suppose the things that are worth it never usually are.