I couldn’t help but have a huge smile on my face as my plane touched down in Wellington, more than 3.5 years after my three month adventure in 2008. I knew that I was only there for a long weekend, but it was a long weekend of watching rugby in what is arguably the rugby capital of the world. Sounds pretty good to me!

Immigration certainly didn’t do anything to wipe the smile away. I know immigration is usually not synonymous with “happiness,” but it was for me when I made a happy discovery. After the immigration agent laughingly tried to convince me to cheer for the All Blacks over the Wallabies (unlikely), she stamped my passport with an unfamiliar stamp — one that did not match the three previous visitor’s stamps that New Zealand had issued me with. As I wandered towards the airport exit, I peered closer and found that I had been given a resident’s visa with the description “holder may stay indefinitely.” I had no idea that Australian residents are accepted as New Zealand residents — I thought you had to get citizenship first! I know it won’t affect me in the short term, as I am firmly entrenched in Brisbane at the moment, but I just loved that I was issued permanent residency without even trying after all the effort it had taken to get in Australia!

World Cup fever was in evidence as soon as I got into the shuttle that would take me to my hotel. Flags hung all over the van, representing all 20 countries participating in the Cup. American and Aussie accents abounded in the van, and when we arrived at the Cambridge Hotel (my ‘old faithful’ hostel that I’ve stayed in many times in Wellington), all of their balconies were draped with flags as well. Just down the road a huge sign covered the side of a hotel, imploring the Kiwis to party like it was 1987 (the last time they won the World Cup).

Before going to NZ, I was in a bit of a quandary. Did I cheer for the US even though I knew nothing about the team, or cheer for the Wallabies because I’d followed Super Rugby and the Tri-Nations before the World Cup? I was considering a compromise where I wore red, white & blue with a Wallabies jersey, but in the end I decided to go all out American. After all, as Bobbi (who is currently working in Wellington) said, how often do I really get to cheer for the homeland anymore anyway? So, with this decided, I settled on white pants and the only piece of US-flag emblazoned clothing I own, a US Davis Cup shirt, and headed into Wellington.

And what a sight the people of Wellington were! There were clearly a lot of Aussies that had jumped across the Tasman for the match…and even some Americans that lived in Australia, by the look of a couple that had cut Wallabies & Eagles jerseys in half and sewn them together. Some had faces painted green and gold; others were swathed in giant American flags. Despite the rivalry, everyone was having a great time. I didn’t feel any of the resentment towards Americans that I have grown used to seeing whenever people are being obnoxiously American (ie, what everyone in Wellington was doing that day, at least visually). People wished each other luck at the game and had a laugh at jokes that were at their country’s expense. Cars emblazoned with American flags on their bonnet honked the entire way around the road and people chased them chanting “U-S-A! U-S-A!”

The best way to describe it all was festive. Honestly, the last time I felt an atmosphere like this was on Orchard Rd just before Christmas. Everyone was celebrating and putting aside their differences for just a day, and it was great. But I had a bit of a problem — for once, I just wasn’t American enough! Surprisingly, there was more American clothing in Wellington than I could find in 2 weeks in Texas — for some reason, they didn’t seem to be interested in the rugby — but I really didn’t want to spend $150 on a jersey from one of the many sports stores hawking official gear. Then I stumbled across my biggest find in Wellington, a little store in a side alley off of Cuba St called “Verboom.” Not only were they advertising free “I <3 Wellington” badges for any Rugby World Cup visitors, but they made custom shirts as well. The one advertised was specially made for anti-Aussie supporters (ie, all Kiwis) and had “Ireland 15, Australia 6” emblazoned across it.

It turned out that I had stumbled across exactly what I was looking for. The shop owner greeted me and asked me about the rugby, and as soon as he heard my accent, he started excitedly telling me about the shirts his friends and he had come up with for the game that night. Apparently all of them were going all-out American for the game and had come up with some slogans for their group. As soon as he showed me the sheet of designs, I practically begged him to let me buy one off him. Of course, owning a shop based almost entirely around selling custom shirts, he was very happy to. So this was how, an hour later, I came to be wearing this shirt:

Lose by less than 30? Yes we can!

It was exactly what I wanted–an out-of-the-ordinary way to show my support–and it was well worth every penny, especially for the people it led me to meet. But that is a tale in itself, and best saved for another post. In the meantime, suffice it to say that I can’t imagine a more welcoming environment for a major sporting event, or in general really. I’ve always loved the friendliness of the Kiwi people, and both they and all of the visitors took it to a new level for the Cup games in Wellington.

As most of you know, I decided to buy a new car while I was in Perth. It was a cute little Honda Jazz named Ribena who lasted a very long time–and by that I mean a grand total of 2 days–before someone on the Mitchell Freeway decided to see what a Ribena sandwich would look like. It turns out, it didn’t look pretty and the result caused me months of pain and spurred a move to Brisbane. At least I can’t complain about the latter!

Anyway, after a lot of thought and research, I decided that I was willing to risk buying another car. However, I thought it a bit too risky to go for another new car–those just seem to come with a big “kick me” sign on the back–so used it was. James and I went looking one Saturday in Moorooka, which is known as the “Magic Mile” because of the number of car dealerships that line the roads there. We spent hours wandering through the various car lots, dodging used car salesmen, trying to find anything that looked of any worth that was in my price range.

Of course, we managed to find something after we decided that we would only visit one more lot. In fact, there were two cars that caught my eye, and they were two of the same model that I hadn’t even considered because I thought they were way too far out of my price range–the Subaru Impreza. One was a silver 2007 sedan, and the other was a red 2007 (but 2008 make year) hatchback. I test drove both of them and was very happy, but the newer model definitely felt better and had a number of other advantages.

As you may have guessed from the photos (which are poor because I haven’t managed to park the car in a good spot for photo taking yet), I eventually decided to go for the latter. I have to say that I’m much happier with it than I was with Ribena for the few days I had her. For one thing, I can actually drive to work here–and even park in a free parking space at the moment–so my commute time has been cut from 40+ minutes each way to about 15. For another, I know that the Impreza is a much better car, and it has a 5-star safety rating so hopefully my back and neck would make it in a slightly better state if another person decides to inspect the contents of my boot!

The only downside of the car so far is the fact that it’s next to impossible to park near my house when I come home from work. Half the time all of our off-street parking is taken, which means I am left to park on the street that is completely clogged by commuters that drive to the train station. I don’t really mind parking on the street (when I find a spot)–or at least, I didn’t until this morning. What awaited me when I walked out to my car was an interesting sight, to say the least. For some reason, someone had walked around to the driver’s side (so closest to the road rather than to the sidewalk), poured coffee on my roof, and then left the empty disposable coffee cup in the middle of it. Who does that?! And who does that when there is an empty rubbish bin on the curb right next to the car?

First and foremost, I am now settled in Brisbane. I arrived here on September 11 (not the most auspicious of starts), and surprisingly, my huge number of bags (+1 boxed bicycle) arrived with me! The flight itself was great, since we had a very strong tailwind that shortened our flight time by an hour and I was sitting in business class, courtesy of my Qantas frequent flier miles, so I actually slept the majority of the way. It didn’t hurt that my flight took off late, at 1.05am, so I was rather exhausted by the time I stepped on the plane anyway.

I didn’t do a whole lot when I first arrived in Brisbane, besides unpacking and trying to find room for my stuff that seemed to expand so much while I was in Perth. I spent a weekend on the Sunshine Coast (where the picture above is from) with James’ family while he was away on a wakeboarding trip. We alternated between lying on the beach and going home to watch 2 seasons of Sex & the City, so it was definitely a nice & relaxing weekend. Most of my time other than that was spent doing a lot of nothing. I considered going to Straddy (an island near Brisbane) for a day or two, but the fact that it was school holidays and Point Lookout would therefore be swarming with children kind of put me off that, so I pretty much just stuck around the house being useless.

Luckily, I wasn’t useless for too long, since my interviews at a Ephox, a software company based in Brisbane, went really well. I was happy even to get a first interview with them, since a) every other job I’d found that even remotely fit me was only taking applications from permanent residents & citizens and b) it was the job that seemed like it would fit me the best. It really seemed like it would fit me a lot better than my previous job, and I knew as soon as I met the team that I would get along with them well. They fortunately decided the same about me and we launched into the visa process, which means that I was gearing myself up to still be jobless come December. However, the Australian government pulled through and really surprised all of us that were involved in the application process. I applied for my work visa on a Monday afternoon, and when I woke up on Wednesday morning my visa approval was sitting in my inbox. What a change from the 3 months my other visa took to get approved! I can’t say I’m complaining though, since earlier this year I wanted to spend as much time in NZ as possible, while this time around I wanted to start my job ASAP.

And start ASAP I did. Less than a month after I arrived in Brisbane, I had my first day of work. I’ve now been there for a week and a half and have already helped to answer a couple support cases, which is more than I did in the whole 5 months I spent at my last job! I actually feel useful and that I am learning, even though I know that I have a loooooong way to go before I understand most of what is going on. It’s just great to feel like I’m making some sort of difference and that I am actually part of the team, as opposed to the outsider that just looks on while everyone else works.

As for my back, it is finally to the point that I only just feel it towards the end of a day at work. I know that it’s not healed–or at least, I got that impression when I was unloading the car on Sunday night, stretched across the back seat trying to reach a pillow, and my back popped and suddenly I couldn’t move. There was definitely pain, but it subsided after a day or two. I’m doing most normal activities now–although I haven’t been game enough to get on a wakeboard yet, especially since my physio has strongly advised against it–and have been pretty good at doing the exercises my physio recommended to strengthen my back muscles. I just love being able to get through a full day at work (with 1.5km hilly walks to & from the train station) without being in absolute agony!

The mention of wakeboarding (and the photos) might have seemed a little random to some of you, since it’s generally not an everyday activity for most people. James is a member of the UQ Waterski/Wakeboarding Club, so pretty much every weekend since I’ve been here, I’ve been out on a boat watching him wakeboard.  I enjoy going out, since it means I get out of the house and spend part of a day out on the river (even if it is brown) but I’d love to be able to get out on a board and make a total fool of myself, since I feel a bit left out sometimes. Luckily, last weekend James & I went on a camping trip to Moogerah, southwest of Brisbane, with people from the wakeboarding club, but minimal wakeboarding was actually done. As one person there described it, it was a perfect buck’s party weekend, with boats, tubes, chainsaws, bows & arrows, remote controlled cars/plane, bonfires, flaming jack’o'lanterns, and lots of alcohol, just to name a few. Even though it drizzled a lot and people were doubting whether I’d be able to get out of my tent at all during the weekend because of it, we had a great time and it was nice to have a mini-vacation after a tiring week of trying to readjust to a work routine.

This weekend, we’re going back up the coast to see James’ grandparents, who are up from coastal New South Wales. I know, it’s a really rough life

Luckily my mother was able to evacuate and spend a few days with family in the north of Houston. This kept her away from the storm surge but the eye still passed very close to them in Conroe, so they got to sit and listen to the howling winds through the night and then lost their power with the rest of Houston. Fortunately, she returned home Sunday to a house that was in one piece, although she described the ride home as one of the most harrowing of her life, since most lanes of the freeway were still flooded and debris was everywhere.

House-wise, we were particularly worried about windows being blown out, since we have a lot of big ones, but all of them were intact. Part of a tree fell over, but it fell away from the house, and the back yard fence is leaning but not fully knocked over. My car, which had a back window that needed to be taped up as it had fallen off the runners and into the door, managed to weather the storm fine, which was a great surprise. My aunt’s house was fine as well, although my cousin’s gym wasn’t so lucky. The metal roof got ripped off and rain poured in over all of the gymnastics equipment. Luckily she has insurance but it’s going to take quite a bit of work to get it back to normal, plus all the time it takes for everything to dry out and for a roofing contractor to become available.

The majority of Houston is without power at the moment; they’re gradually restoring power but they think about 3 million people are still without it and that it might take a month to get everyone back on the grid. Once my dad gets back from a business trip to Tokyo (he was supposed to fly in on Saturday, which clearly didn’t happen, and now he’s due to fly in today), my parents are thinking about going to San Antonio until power gets restored, since my mom’s college has canceled classes for a while. It depends whether my dad’s office in west Houston has had power restored, since they were the least affected by the storm. I think my mother is hoping that there is no power there because at least in San Antonio they would be able to buy food that needs to be refrigerated and take hot showers!

A few nights ago my mom joined up with the neighbors and had a big BBQ with all the food that was about to spoil and my mom is still having to go down the street to take showers at a neighbor’s house that has a gas water heater. She has all of the windows open in the heat and can hear all of the neighbor’s power generators going…but unfortunately we don’t have one and they are pretty much sold out across the entire state of Texas now. I wish I was there to help clean up but I’m kind of glad I’m not because at least here in Oz I have power…and I don’t have to eat meals of canned vienna sausages and crackers like my mom did last night. She’s absolutely bored out of her mind because there’s not a lot to do except clean up, especially once it gets dark, when she can pretty much only read by flashlight. She’s also going to have a lot of fun trying to buy more food, since some supermarkets are finally open but there are mile-long queues just to get in. The gas situation is worse, with gas supplies expected to be low until at least the end of the month and massive queues at the few open stations.

There are some photo galleries on The Houston Chronicle that show the full extent of the damage. We got very lucky that the storm surge wasn’t as high as predicted because our house was spared, but Galveston Island was pretty much destroyed as were a lot of other coastal communities (Kemah, for instance, where there is a nice boardwalk with loads of seafood restaurants, games, and even a wooden roller coaster…all of which was under about 10 feet of water after the storm). I’m hoping that nearby League City fared alright since I haven’t heard from my tennis coach about whether his Fitness Centre or his house are okay. The pictures coming out of the disaster areas are just unbelievable, from boats and houses sitting in the middle of the freeway to shocked fish stuck in chain-link fences. The authorities say it’s going to take more than $10B to clean up because structures all the way across Houston were mangled, and lots of school districts have cancelled school “until further notice.” Overall, it’s just a mess and it’s going to take a long time for the city to get back to normal.

By the way, things are going really well here in sunny Brisbane. It’s much warmer than it was in Perth and I feel like I need an entire wardrobe change…but I like it! Much better than battling down the Terrace as the chilly wind howls past. I’ve got a great physio here that’s put me on a fixed gym routine to help strengthen my back muscles as well as improve my posture, which has always been terrible, so I’ve invested in some dumbbells, a medicine ball, and a fitness ball so I can work on my fitness from home and be pain free as soon as possible. Also, it’s great to be around James for more than just a weekend, even if I do feel like the housewife because I’m staying at home all day cleaning the house and doing laundry!

All photos in this post have been obtained from the Houston Chronicle. Mouseover the image to see the credits.

Anyway, back to my point…my physio has always been a strong advocate of keeping my back moving rather than sitting as an amoebic lump on the couch. This started with a strict list of stretches that I had to do every hour to get my full range of movement back as well as to stretch out the muscles that were so tight in my back. A few weeks ago, he decided that I was ready to push even further than this and actually begin really exercising. Part of his goal was to try to push me as hard as possible to see if I broke before I went to Brisbane, since it’d be better to happen now than to think I’m better and then possibly get a job and fall apart once I got there. The good news is that he didn’t manage to break me, and the even better news for my own sanity is that I was able to get out of the house in a different manner than just walking the same streets up and down, day after day.

There’s three significant things I’ve managed to do in the last few weeks that I consider to be real landmarks. The first is that I ran 2kms twice in the span of three days and didn’t collapse afterwards on either occasion. The physio said the real challenge with running would be getting out of bed the next morning, but I managed that, albeit with a significant amount of stiffness in my neck, traps, and in the middle of my back, but no severe pain. It was really exhilarating as well, which was understandable since my physio said that I would probably feel high after the first few times exercising since I hadn’t done it in so long.

The second significant event was competing in the 4km City-to-Surf a couple weeks ago. Normally, I probably would have entered the 12km race, which actually goes from the city (St. Georges Terrace) to the surf, just because I am competitive and would like to see how far I could push myself, but I knew that would be a very dumb idea in my current state. I was iffy on whether I should even enter until the Wednesday before the race (which happened on Sunday, August 31), when my physio told me it would be a great idea, provided I came in the next day for treatment so he could make sure I was okay.

The race itself was absolutely insane, with 36,825 entrants throughout the half-marathon, 12km walk/run, 4km walk/run, and 11km wheelchair divisions. One of those entrants was Cathy Freeman, the Olympic golden girl of 2000, who said at the end of the race that it was the longest she’d ever run and she had to really push herself to finish under 68 minutes (her division). She said she felt she couldn’t stop running because of what people would think! Anyway, it seemed like about half of the entrants were in the 4km division, which started in Perry Lakes. A few friends from work and I got there about 15 minutes before the race and were joined by our Scottish friend just as the runners were taking off. She was planning on running while the rest were going to walk, so I said I would join her for as far as I could, since as I’ve said before, I really wanted to push myself.

Running was really quite difficult, since by the time we passed the starting mats that triggered the timers on our shoes, a lot of the walkers had started as well and were pretty much blocking the entire path with their strollers, linked arms, etc. We ended up running on the grass half the time to get around them. By the time we reached the 1km mark, Ibby had run quite far ahead, which was okay with me because I didn’t want to end up in one of the first aid tents along the way! I managed to run probably about 3 of the 4kms, with many short walking breaks while I avoided various obstacles. It really would have been nice to have a runners’ lane and a walkers’ lane, but it’s probably best that I had to slow down a little, since I was definitely feeling my back by the end of it (but thankfully not enough to make use of those first aid tents!). I still managed to come in roughly 2,400th place out of 9,297 people, according to the <a href=”http://citytosurf.activ.asn.au/2/3226/3179/2008_results.pm”>official results website</a>, which wasn’t too bad at all! Plus, after the race we all got free leg massages and sausages courtesy of Prime Health Care, who my team was associated with.

The third big accomplishment was going to Rottnest Island last week. Rotto is a jewel of an island about a 30 minute ferry ride from Fremantle that Perth denizens love to head over to during the summer. I hadn’t been there yet because I was told it was best during the summer, when the water’s just warm enough to go snorkeling in (there’s tons of reefs lying just off the coast). Unfortunately, I never made it to summer in Perth, so I decided that I might as well go in the beginning of spring instead just so I could see the place.

I nearly didn’t make it over there, since I made it to the ferry terminal well past the 9.30am departure date, but fortunately the ferry was running a bit late. We got over there at about 11, so I had 5 hours to traverse the island and do as I pleased before the last ferry left at 4pm. My first stop was picking up some sunscreen and food in the shops at Thomson Bay. I was surprised to see that they weren’t as excessively overpriced as I thought they might be; Subway was only about $1 more expensive per sandwich than on the mainland. Unfortunately, Subway had an insane line, so I went to the Rottnest Bakery instead, which proved to be even more costly time-wise. They promised me that my squid and chips would be done in 8 minutes, and then 20 minutes later brought me my money back and said they were sorry, they’d burned my chips, so they were going to give me the food for free for waiting so long. I was extremely frustrated at the time, since I felt like valuable minutes were ticking away, but it ended up working out for the best, since I got a free (and very good, but very greasy) meal as well as getting to see some of the local wildlife while I waited. Two peacocks were facing off over a peahen, so there were lots of flared feathers for me and my fellow tourists to get excited about, and even more exciting, a quokka appeared on the deck of the bakery to investigate the smell of food. Quokkas are tiny marsupials that only live on Rotto; they look kind of like a cross between a skinny wombat and a kangaroo (since they both walk slowly until spooked and then hop away). This quokka, like pretty much all of the animals on the island that I saw, was completely unafraid of people and walked straight up to my bike helmet and attemped to get in, thinking that it smelled like food rather than the bag right next to it. It was adorable and attracted quite a crowd!

I finally made it away from Thomson Bay and took my rented bike north towards Bathurst Lighthouse, which stands at the northeastern point of the island. It was under this lighthouse on Pinky Beach that I enjoyed my lunch while lying out on the white sand. What a tough life, huh? It was at this point that I really began to regret not planning better and spending a night at one of the hostels on the island because I knew that 5 hours would just not be enough to do the island properly.

From there, I climbed up to the lighthouse to get a bit of a bird’s eye view of the northern coast before hitting the road again. I traversed a good half of the northern coast, passing turquoise waters and white sand everywhere, as well as the occasional settlement (at Geordie Bay), wind turbine, quokka (two of them were browsing on the side of the road, one of which walked up and started pawing my tire when I stopped), and brown lizard (which I nearly ran over before it zipped out of the way surprisingly quickly). There are very few vehicles on Rottnest, which made cycling a joy. The only downside of cycling was the hunching I inevitably had to do to hang on to the handlebars, which compounded with the backpack on my back didn’t do my back a world of good. I ended up stopping and relaxing at Little Armstrong Bay, a secluded beach with only 5 or 6 other people on it. Just off the sand started coral reefs, which a little boy was snorkeling over. I was jealous, wishing that I could get in the water as well without the chill causing problems in my back. Oh well…just another reason to come back to WA to visit!

The ride back to Thomson Bay took me past most of the big lakes on the island, which were nice, but not nearly as stunning as they look from aerial views. I peddled the 3+kms pretty quickly and ended up having about half an hour to spare, which I enjoyed having a cold drink in the shade (but still with a great view of the beach and the Australian mainland) at the very-under-construction Quokka Arms Hotel. Overall, it was a great day and a great way to do my rehabilitation exercise without just sitting in a gym!

The other big news I have is that I’m heading to Brisbane on Thursday morning. That made last weekend very sad, since it was full of goodbyes–a wonderful goodbye dinner & drinks at the Olive Tree on Friday followed by a goodbye BBQ hosted by my flatmate (and very good cook) on Saturday. I enjoyed them, but it made me realize just how much I am going to miss the friends that have been there for me in the last five months. As I said above, yet another reason to come back and visit! I am excited about going to Queensland though, because I’ll get to see James and I won’t have to do any more packing for a while! Plus, if I get lucky, I’ll find a job there and settle down somewhat permanently, which sounds great to me after what’s amounted to 8 months of being a nomad (even though I was living pretty normally here, it was just rather fleeting).

First and foremost, I resigned from my job last week. Most of you know that I was not happy in the job; it just wasn’t what I saw myself doing when I accepted it last winter. I want to do software development and design, and get my hands dirty in the actual codebase. I want to help create user interfaces and be able to see my work on the screen and know that people are using the program to their advantage. I couldn’t see any of this in my future at my company unless I went back to the development centre in Houston, which I don’t want to do because I’ve already made the big move out to Australia already. There were also circumstances that were beyond my control that contributed to this decision and made me choose to leave (within my contract) immediately, rather than serving out my 30 days’ notice.

In the few days since I made this decision, I’ve felt like a whole new person. A huge amount of tension has been lifted off of my back–literally–and the physiotherapist was very happy on Thursday, as opposed to Monday and Tuesday when I appeared to be backtracking. He was able to get me to do a lot of exercises I couldn’t have done 10 days ago before he left for vacation. The doctor echoed his feelings and feels that I’ve finally “turned the corner” in my recovery. I really don’t feel like I would have been able to do that had I stayed in my job, since I felt like the stress there was really keeping me in a holding pattern of slight progress followed by continual backtracking.

So, overall, things are looking up finally. I am now officially a tourist in Australia–I got a 3-month visa granted to me on Friday–and I’m planning on staying in Perth for another 3 weeks before heading to Brisbane in the middle of September. Hopefully that’ll give me time to get everything sorted out here and for me to see all the people that have been so great to me in my fleeting time in Perth a few more times. Then, I’ll get to be in Brisbane for a while with my Australian family, which will be great. From there, there’s a few different courses of action I may take, depending on my back’s progress; one of which is going home for a while and then coming back to do a master’s degree at the University of Queensland next year. Anyone that spent much time with me at all during my time at Rice has probably lost all feeling in their jaw as it hit the floor, but I’ve found a program that looks really good and would really fit me since it’s centred much more around the aspects of computer science that I’m interested in (user interface design, etc).

I’m feeling much better in myself and have my fingers crossed that the worst is finally behind me. I’m not exactly ready to get back out on the tennis court again, but it’s just so great to be able to do normal day-to-day activities without being in constant pain. I guess you really never know how lucky you are until something is taken away from you!

And of course, I’m sure you expected this post to me littered with flower photos so I will not disappoint. I’m still taking lots of walks and still taking the camera along, although perhaps I’ll change my photo subjects shortly so as to not get too boring…and yes, that orchid was still living as of a few days ago, 5 weeks after James sent me the bouquet. Unfortunately the last flower fell off yesterday, but I’m still pretty proud of myself for keeping them going that long when they were cut to begin with!

On the good side: James was here for the weekend. It’s great to see him normally, but it was even better to see him standing on the doorstep this time because I really just needed him here…even if he was sick and possibly passed it on to me. It wasn’t that he was here to wait on me hand and foot; it was just nice to have someone there for me, especially someone with a rental car that could take me to physio and hydrotherapy! We definitely had a quiet weekend (I’m not in any state to do anything more really) but we did get out and see a bit of Perth, both for his sake and mine. I wanted a bit of a change of scenery for my daily walks so we went to Kings Park, so James got to see Perth and the Swan River and marvel at just how much it looks like a harbour rather than a river. On Sunday we went to Fremantle (which is really a must for anyone coming to Perth) and had a great meal at the Mexican Kitchen with some friends…followed by a short visit to Little Creatures (the brewery in Freo) so James could have his obligatory drink there. On the way home, we drove past Cottesloe so he could see Perth’s “main beach” and the Indian Ocean. Needless to say, he was thoroughly surprised to see that it looks much like the Indian Ocean.

My back steadily improved as the weekend went on. My physio appointment on Saturday had mixed results; he told me that he wasn’t expecting a lot of improvement from the previous visit and he didn’t get much. My range of movement was still very limited and the muscles tight as ever, so he resorted to sticking needles in my back to get the blood flowing to the muscles with “microtears” in them. Luckily I don’t really have a fear of needles if I can’t see them, but I could definitely feel the throbbing in my back afterwards. I felt that as I did my stretches through the weekend my range of movement did slightly improve, and James agreed that I seemed to be moving better by the time he left. Sitting in the chairs at the restaurant in Freo pretty much killed my back though–I was pretty miserable in the car on the way home–which made me wary about my chances of being able to work and make that all-important trip to England.

Monday was D-Day. I didn’t go to work because James took me to a hydrotherapy pool in the morning before he got on the plane and then I had physio and doctor’s appointments in the afternoon. The hydrotherapy felt good when I was in the pool, which was really just a lukewarm pool full of mothers with babies learning to swim, since I could actually move around much better since I had much less weight on my back. It kind of hits you when you get out of the pool though! The physio appointment went much better than that on Saturday since I’d regained much more range of movement, even though there was still a lot of pain and the muscles hadn’t loosened up at all. However, the physio thought that going to England would be too much too soon and unless I found a physio over there to go to twice a week, I would undo all of the good that I’d done so far. The doctor concurred after doing an exam where he still managed to make me jump after prodding that one certain point in the middle of my back. So, this means no trip to England at all for me, after four long months of waiting for it.  Unfortunately this means that I now have to wait until November to do my training, which will be in Kuala Lumpur. However, I do agree with the doctor and think this is for the best; I really don’t think my body is up to the strain of traveling for 24 hours, much less doing training for 8 hours a day, 5-6 days a week, plus all the mandatory networking dinners, etc, that come along with such a training course. As the doctor said, it would be setting me up for disaster, and I wouldn’t want to go to training if I wasn’t able to fully utilize it because I was distracted by pain. It just makes things a bit difficult since I’ve already been waiting for this training for so long. I’m just hoping that things work out for the best in the long run, and at this point, “for the best” to me means that my back heals as quickly as possible with no lasting effects. I want to be able to just do daily activities without pain; I want to get back into tennis like I was in the weeks before the accident; I want to have the ability to do another trip like I did earlier this year and carry my backpack everywhere; I do not want to be like the many taxi drivers that have empathized with my situation and told me that 2, 3, 5 years after their accidents they still experience constant daily pain.

The doctor also declared me unfit for work for the next two weeks. I’m instead to concentrate on physio and my exercises, which I think is a good idea because I just want this to get better as quickly as possible. It’s also good that the Olympics start this Friday because it will give me something to do! Not that I’ve been lacking for things to do really; I’ve managed to occupy my time pretty well and have even begun work on another travel journal because my mind isn’t feeling nearly as addled.

A funny thing happened two days ago now when I went on my walk. As you’ve noticed, this post is littered with flower pictures, because it gives me something to photograph when I’m on my walks. Well, I went on a walk that was in the general direction of my doctor’s office, and I started taking pictures of some African daisies when I heard “Oh! It’s the flower girl!” I couldn’t believe that someone recognized me after having only walked in that direction a couple times, but apparently this man did. He was a retiree who was gardening with his wife and wanted to know if I’d seen any camellias around. I told him no, so he showed me some that lined his driveway and started picking them and giving them to me! He told me to keep them and take them somewhere where I could get good light and take nice photos of them. I ended up juggling 6 different flowers–white, pink, and red–on the way home. What a nice guy.

The doctor obviously knew it wasn’t good because I was coming in earlier than expected, and he immediately set about trying to get me on another course of treatment that will hopefully start improving my back. It was definitely worth the try to get back to work and to normal life, but that obviously wasn’t working so I’ve been ordered not to go back to work for the rest of the week. On top of that, I’m going to physiotherapy tomorrow, which I am really hoping makes a difference. I will be realistic though and figure that after the first treatment, I’ll probably hurt worse, but I’m hoping it will help me make great strides in the long run. I’d like this because it’s looking a bit doubtful that I will be able to get on the plane in what is now a week and two days, since a valid point has been made that I only have one back and sitting on a plane for 20 hours might do it much more future harm when it’s already in this state. Not good. I just have to wait and see what the physio does and what the doctor has to say during my next appointment on Monday.

Until then, I’ll be lying in bed reading The Great Hunt and hoping my back doesn’t implode when I visit the physio tomorrow. Also, there’s been more good news about the car situation–it looks like I’ll just be getting back what my car was worth rather than having to go through the hassle of finding the same car when there are very few new ones left in Perth. As much as I’d like a new Ribena, I think it’d just be easier to save the money and wait until I’m in a better place (ie not about to depart for England and not with a mangled back) before I get a car again.

Inspired by the weather, I decided to set out on a little walk down to the local tennis club that I was planning on joining until a couple weeks ago. I felt bad that they had nominated me for membership and then I’d disappeared off the face of the earth, and I figured a little walk to stretch my back wouldn’t go awry. I took my camera along for the walk so I could take random pictures and keep my mind occupied–plus it gave me something to fiddle with later on the computer–and did manage to make it to the tennis club, albeit in slightly more time than it normally takes. Even though I don’t know the people at the club all that well, it was good to see them and have a chat/cup of tea during their break between matches.

I think I did overdo it going to the club though, because on the way back my back became quite stiff. It especially wasn’t a good idea to try to lean over and get a few flower shots on the way there, but I tended to become stuck on the pavement before I realized that I was being stupid. Next time I’ll just have to be a little more sensible, but I guess sometimes it’s good to be reminded of your limits.

I just feel so completely flat at the moment. Luckily, a friend (Chris) from work came over yesterday and cheered me up some with various TV series and a trip to see Kung Fu Panda (again, anything to get out of the house!) but I feel lethargic and brain dead. I feel exhausted just from walking up and down the stairs because something’s just constantly there in my back. I feel lonely because all of my family is so far away; thank goodness for phone cards and the internet, but what I wouldn’t give just to have a hug from one of them right now.

The only thing really to do in my case is hope that it gets better, and quickly. I went back to work today in an attempt to work a half day. I did manage about 4 hours, but by the end of it, I was in much worse pain than I’ve been in a while. I managed to pilfer a tall chair that gives me enough support, but I just don’t think my back’s used to the pressure of sitting up for such a long period. Hopefully each day it will get a little stronger and I will work back up to a normal work day, since I feel like I’m such a whinger, talking about my bad back when so many other people have it so much worse in car accidents. I’m trying my best though, and I hope that people can see that.

In other news, I talked to the Honda dealership that I got my little Ribena from today. Apparently there are very few Jazzes left on the lots in Perth as they are clearing them out to bring in the new models. There aren’t any “misty violet” ones at all, but there are a few other choices other than canary yellow, which is good…Now it’s just a waiting game to see whether they are all gone before everything with the insurance gets settled.