Tag: wife

We all march on…

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I’m just going to slide into this blog post acting as if it’s only been a blip in time since I’ve last posted. It’s okay to start this one out on a lie, yeah? Great, glad we’re in agreement there. Moving swiftly along…

Hi buds! Can you believe it’s 2019 already? I can’t! OK, great. Chit chat – done!

Life sucks. Pardon the melodrama here, but honestly it’s become such a drag lately I genuinely feel like all I ever do is whine and complain and I hate it. I’ve wanted to write about it for so long, but I felt like if I did, I’m just painting myself as this world-class complainer who can never see the good side in life. I don’t want to be that person in the slightest, so instead, I just shut up. But that doesn’t help me emotionally, and it certainly doesn’t help anyone else who cares about me and wants to help. So despite still having reservations about writing this post, here I am. Doing it anyway! *insert awkward grimacing face here*

The last you heard from me, I was talking about my husband’s vitamin deficiency. Plot twist! Turns out, that was never the problem. Also turns out, nobody knows what is the problem. Sound familiar? We’ve done this song and dance so many times, it’s almost weirdly expected now. We’ve been in and out of the hospital the last six months – the emergency department a few times – test after test, waiting for someone to find a lead and bring us closer to an answer to the problem. I’ve been having flashbacks to the time we had to do all this before his CRPS diagnosis, and it is honestly heart-wrenching (and unbearable) remembering it took years of suffering before a doctor diagnosed him. Can I handle that again? Can he? And even now, not all doctors agree that he does, in fact, have CRPS. Every doctor seems to have a differing opinion, but I guess that’s just the nature of a syndrome, eh? In any case, this was never a place I expected us to be back in… ever, let alone this soon after having just rode this crazy train to CRPS land. I want off the damn train.

Every day at work, someone asks me how I’m doing. It’s a natural, casual question, not intended to be loaded in any way. For the last six months, my answer has literally been the same no matter who asks: I’m tired. I keep joking that exhaustion is now just a part of my overall personality, but in my head I do kind of feel like it has overcome me as a person and I’m incapable of being or acting any other way. It’s exhausting being this exhausted! I find myself digging back through my photo archives, reminiscing about years before, wishing I hadn’t taken such a carefree life for granted now that I’ve learned how overwhelming it’d all become. Then the guilt strikes, hard, in waves, and I’m chastising myself for being so negative. My thought patterns are wildly unpredictable, and I can’t even keep up with myself most days. So, I keep it simple when people ask. I’m just tired, and leave it at that.

I’ve mentioned before that I often approach a new year by reflecting on the one that’s just gone, to shed myself of those feelings to begin anew each year. Most of 2018 wasn’t all too bad. Health-wise, my husband wasn’t great the majority of the year, but it had become our new normal and we were just living with it. I felt lonely and isolated a lot, but lacked the motivation to do anything about it. But toward the end of the year, the feelings of pride I had for handling the difficult life the universe crafted for me with grace were quickly replaced with intense fear, uncertainty and crippling anxiety. As his health degraded and new symptoms were emerging, we were absolutely gripped by what was happening. I more or less blacked out from September onward, unable to think of much else apart from his health and what I could or should do to help fix it. Every moment of my time was spent worrying about him, whether he was around me or not. Not only did the new symptoms present more problems going about our ‘normal’ lives, but they seemingly made previous, regular symptoms worse.

But when Christmas finally rolled around, he was starting to feel a little better, and since medical tests hadn’t found anything still, we thought maybe we were in the clear. A fluke, surely. He got back to feeling more positive, laced up his running shoes and stared his pain condition directly in its non-existent face; running each weekend brought him pain, but also joy. The thing that he loved most before the nerve condition turned up uninvited. He was doing it again (!!), slowly and very carefully, but I could see his pure joy and god, how fulfilling that is to witness. Short lived, of course. Isn’t it always?

A few months later, the symptoms were back: extreme dizziness, blurry and/or double vision, intensified pain, localised unintentional muscle contractions, insomnia. A change in diet had improved his gastro symptoms, but nothing else. Blood tests still revealed no abnormalities. I think I took it hardest at first. I felt foolish and naive – how dare I think the issue resolved itself overnight? Haven’t I learned anything in this journey so far? How could I let him down by not being the pragmatic one? I was livid. At myself, at this mystery illness, at the universe. Why couldn’t I help him? It all feels so unfair and I can’t understand why we don’t deserve a break. It’s hard. Every day I’m fighting my own emotions, it’s no wonder I’m this exhausted.

My resolution this year was to be more sociable and make more friends. One thing that makes dealing with my life so difficult lately is that I genuinely do not have friends to help me escape – my mind, the situation, my life (sometimes). Especially in my new country. I don’t mean that to be cruel or dramatic or insensitive to the people who are in my life, but to be completely honest, I do not have anyone who regularly checks in on me without me having to prompt it first. Maybe this is my fault. I can be very closed off and I’ve often backed out of plans with others (because, this life), so I can totally see how I’ve made myself unapproachable in general. Nevertheless, it is hard seeing my husband’s phone light up with messages from friends and colleagues simply checking in, asking if he wants to grab a drink, shoot the breeze – all because they want to. He’s got friends fairly regularly asking him to do things and he’s the one with the disability, but I’ve often been sat at home alone waiting for him to return (and worrying if he’s okay). Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled my husband has people in his life like this. It relieves some of the burden and guilt I feel when I think I’m not being or doing enough for him. But still, I’m jealous. I wish I had people who wanted to take my mind off the things troubling me most! And boy, is it hard to make friends as an adult. In any case, I decided I didn’t like feeling so lonely and pathetic, so that’s why I endeavoured to put myself out there more often – social anxiety be damned!

It’s slow going, I’ll admit. I’m still resentful that I’ve seemingly been unable to pick people to stay in my life of their own volition. I can’t help but feel like there must be something wrong with me for people to forget about me so easily or treat me unkindly. I still struggle to shake this ‘woe is me’ feeling I have so often. But! I’ve started to make new friends. People who have so far been kind enough to reach out on their own accord and invite me to do things, ask me how things are, assure me they’re there to talk or not talk – whatever I want or need at any time. I am apprehensive, at best. I want to trust that opening up to new people will bring in new friendships I crave, but I’m also afraid I’ll lose them just as quickly. My life is so unique to the average 20-something, and I’m hyper aware that none of these people may understand the life of a caregiver. Because that’s what I am, really. But I am still trying and being more social and slowly opening up to new people. It is likely I’ll get hurt. I know this – such is life. But if there’s even a small chance that one of these wonderful new people in my life will stick around, then it makes it all worth it. We need people. And I need people to help remind me that I’m still young and have a whole, exciting life ahead of me. To remind me that I am more than this situation. That my personality isn’t ‘tired’. That I’m someone who needs care and attention too, sometimes. I very often forget this down in the muck that is this medical nightmare. So to those of you reading this who’ve been so kind and understanding toward me – even without knowing my whole story yet – I thank you. You have no idea how huge of an impact you’ve already had on my life, and moreover, I hope you stay.

This isn’t an easy life. I’ve never foolishly believed it would be, but I never could’ve guessed I would experience such trauma in such a short span of time. Word on the street is that I’m strong and resilient, but I almost never feel this way. I’m proud of myself for sticking my neck out when I’ve been in need, though. This is something I’ve never been known to do or particularly good at, but I’m finding life a little easier to handle knowing I’ve got a bit of extra help on the outside. Even if that help simply comes in the form of a smiling face willing to take me away from my own thoughts for a bit. Every little bit helps.

So I end this post with one request: always be kind. And when you’re feeling least like wanting to be kind, be even kinder. You never know who is so desperately relying on your kindness just to get through the day.

Go as long as you can, and then take another step.

Carry on.

This blog has quickly turned into a place where I pour out complicated details of my life, but I suppose that’s healthy and if people want to read it – cool.

My job gives me an opportunity to meet a lot of people under many different circumstances. They tell me intimate details about their lives, and some are heartbreaking and hard to hear. But as with any situation, I try to walk away having learned something new about life.. as well as myself.

In the news industry, you’ve really got to have a thick skin because you see, hear and experience a lot of traumatizing things. So one thing I’ve learned about myself is that if I can classify something as “all in a day’s work,” no matter how traumatically emotional it may be, I can shelve it and go on with my regular day-to-day as if it hasn’t affected me at all. For example, I’ve been to so many emergency scenes that I’ve lost count where people have been seriously injured or even died, but it doesn’t phase me. Mentally, I see experiences like this as simply the nature of my job, and it’s my duty to capture the experience in order to share it and teach others. But if something happens in my personal life, not even on par with some of the things I experience on the job, it has the power to cripple me for days at a time.

As most of you know, my husband and I have been working our butts off to finally get to live in the same city together. Visas and paperwork complicate the process quite a bit, but we take it day by day. Most recently, we had finally found an apartment in London that checked all of our boxes, and we quickly put down a deposit to make it ours. It’s been years in the making, and finding an apartment eliminated one of the final obstacles keeping us apart. We were thrilled! We started talking about how we’d decorate the place, what furniture we needed to buy, how we’d spruce up the back garden to make use of it during the warm months. We were having so much fun making plans because it finally felt like our future together – in the same place – was here. Well, in true “just our luck” fashion, this dream came to a grinding halt. The current tenant decided to stay last minute, so we lost our dream flat. All of our plans went up in smoke just like that. Back to square one. I wasn’t just devastated, I was angry. After everything we’ve been through, how dare the world do this to us?! The end was in sight! I allowed myself to get excited only to have the rug ripped right out from under me?! That’s not fair! That’s not right!

As soon as I heard the news, my entire demeanor changed. My entire outlook on my future became bleak. “I’ll never get to London,” I thought. “It’s just not meant to be.” Neither of us had even moved into the place yet, but it still felt like someone took something of ours away. I cried. I punched pillows. I threw a mini fit in the privacy of my room. I yelled at my husband even though he had nothing to do with the tenant deciding to stay put. I just couldn’t handle it.

And then I gave myself time to think. A few days ago, I had a conversation with a coworker about personal battles we all fight in our private lives, and how we must then put on a brave face in public and act like nothing is bothering us. And I thought how easy it is for us to completely ignore our feelings like that for the sake of saving face. Unless it’s your job to remain unbiased, you’re allowed to let things affect you. But then I ask: how do you decide what is allowed to affect you and what’s not? On the job, I’m completely numb to emotion. But off the clock, it doesn’t take much to get to tantrum town. So how do I find a healthy balance?

Talking to people helps. It’s a blessing to have level-headed people weigh in on your situation and give you perspective. On the job, sometimes I’m that person for victims’ families. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that their situations are much more dire than the ones I’m facing right now, which brings me back down to earth. If someone whose grandson was shot and killed at close range by a police officer still has faith in the power of positivity and future change, who am I to let something like a silly apartment damn my future?

So here’s what I’ve learned: It’s okay to be sad, mad, hurt. To quote my favorite movie, Elizabethtown, “you have five minutes to wallow in the delicious misery. Enjoy it, embrace it, discard it …and proceed.” We are human. We have emotions and we shouldn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed of them. We NEED to feel what we feel, but once we have, we cannot wallow in it. Life is too short to fixate on one problem, especially if it’s a problem we have no control over. In my case, I do have control. I can find a new apartment. The world isn’t ending and my future isn’t doomed. For a hot second, it sure felt like it. But now that I’ve dealt with the appropriate emotions, I can move on to finding a solution to the problem. I remain stoic at work because I have to, but I need to face the experiences I’ve had even if it means returning back to the moment mentally and in private. If we ignore how we feel, the smallest problems can seem like nightmares and we’ll burst. Empathy is healthy and helpful. And it’s okay to admit that life is hard sometimes for everyone, but we can’t stop living.

We are intrepid. We carry on.

Tougher than life

Dream team

Months ago, I wrote a post about my complicated love life. Since the beginning of my relationship, there have been more naysayers and self-proclaimed “realists” than cheerleaders or supporters. Although it’s been hard hearing people doubt the longevity of my relationship with my husband-to-be, I’ve never had any doubts myself. (As they say, when you know, you know!) The biggest hurdle we’ve had to deal with as a couple is remaining a team while separated by 4,000+ miles and that pesky ocean. Long distance relationships are not for the faint of heart. Nevertheless, we’ve made it this far and plan to close the gap as soon as the visa paperwork clears. Whenever that may be…

I have faced many obstacles in my short life. I’ve made plans and sat back and watched them crumble before my eyes. But I believe my perseverance (and possibly stubbornness) keeps me moving forward toward my goals. With that said, these last few months have been some of the hardest I’ve ever faced, and they have certainly tested my strength.

My fiancé, James, recently lost his job that he loved so much, which had been the main reason for our decision for me to move to London to join him. It happened unexpectedly and suddenly, and not only put him face-to-face with unemployment for the first time in his adult life, but it also single-handedly halted the entire visa application process. You see, he sort of needs an income to prove he can sponsor me for the visa. Saying, “hey, we’re married!” isn’t actually enough, apparently. Part of me feels like I shouldn’t blame the company he worked for because outsourcing James’ job seemed to be the best option in their eyes. But at the same time, I feel like the timing and completely out-of-left-field nature of the situation makes me also feel like we were personally, maliciously attacked. Logically, I know it’s “just business,” but this seemingly small incident threw all of our plans back up in the air. Back to square one, we say. There was an end in sight to the long distance as soon as we said our I dos, and then the rug got ripped out from under us. Can you imagine how it feels knowing that after we have our wedding, we still won’t know when we can live with each other or where that will be? That’s not a typical stress in a normal relationship! Most couples can just pick up and move without thinking twice. But we can’t… until we have the paperwork that says we can – legally.

On top of that unpleasant surprise, there’s a larger, more worrisome issue on our hands. James broke his foot when he was in military college years ago. After a misdiagnosis by the UK’s healthcare system, James’ foot condition worsened. He was constantly breaking the same foot or feeling excruciating pain even if the bone wasn’t broken. I’ve watched him suddenly buckle over in severe pain, tears welling up in his eyes, unable to speak for no understandable reason. He has logged more hours at the hospital in the last year than you probably have in your entire life. And I’ve never been able to be there in person for him. Nearly half of our relationship, James has been on crutches or wearing a cast, unable to move around like an average human being. He used to be a marathon runner, and now he has to stop and take breaks when the pain gets to be too intense. Specialists have examined his foot so many times we’ve lost count, and I’m sure all of the area doctors know his case by heart simply due to the amount of times he’s had to call and leave messages asking for a different kind of pain medicine because whatever they gave him this time wasn’t helping. He’s ingested so many terrifyingly strong pain medications and narcotics that I worry about the state of his organs and the tolerance his body has built up. After countless MRIs and X-rays, doctors believe he has Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) and Allodynia. He’s had several surgeries, including one a few months ago to kill a nerve in his foot to stop all feeling whatsoever. We pushed for the surgery because he wasn’t responding to pain management medications, and also because I really wanted to dance with my husband at our wedding in February. The surgery worked and he was walking around normally and we allowed ourselves to celebrate and get excited to dance at our wedding…  And then the chronic, crippling pain was back within a month or two and our hearts were broken. That phone call with James was probably the worst, most painful conversation I’ve ever had in my life. The doctor had told James he could run again in as little as three years, and now the boot is back on and the crutches are always at the ready. We thought we saw the light at the end of the tunnel. We were excited! And yet again, we were let down. Now, doctors see that two bones in James’ foot have fused together and need to be surgically separated. Until then, he will repeatedly break his foot because of the added pressure the fused bones place on his foot. However, his hypersensitivity and CRPS make it too risky to pursue this surgery until doctors can figure out a way to manage the pain. And although most Americans don’t understand this because we don’t have healthcare like the UK does, the wait time for James to see someone at the pain management clinic is, AT THE EARLIEST, 3 months from now (thanks, universal healthcare). So not only do I have to helplessly sit here in America while my other half is in agonizing pain every single day (physically and emotionally), I also have to stomach the notion that James may never find relief – or worse – it may worsen or spread to other parts of his body. I do the best that I can to be supportive and positive because scary health situations like this are best combatted by a strong, optimistic team. But it takes nearly all my strength not to break down myself, and I’m not the one dealing with the physical pain. I selfishly had this image of James and I dancing with big goofy grins on our faces to our song in 10 weeks, and now I’m trying to figure out a way to dress up his crutches to match the venue decor.

While there’s nothing we can do at this moment except stay positive and hopeful, it’s still hard to deal with. Even though James no longer holds the job that kept him in London away from me, he still has to stay in London now in order to remain with the doctors who have been working closely with him. Why doesn’t he come to America, you say? It’s been discussed, but American healthcare is astronomically expensive, which is an obstacle we simply can’t get around financially. And even if we could, it takes a minimum of a year for a non-US citizen to have their visa application accepted in order for James to remain here with me.

It has been an incredibly tough year for James and me. We have faced so much adversity, and sometimes it feels like it’ll never end. But I have to keep the faith because James deserves the best in this world, and if I can’t fix these problems, I can at least give him my best.

I chose to write this post because I think it’s important for everyone to remember that we are all fighting our own battles even if others can’t see them. We should not judge or criticize others for things we do not understand, and we should always hope for the best for people no matter what. I know our situation could be much worse, but for now, this feels earth-shattering. So please be kind to one another and help each other out. Even if it’s just listening when someone needs to vent or offering a hug to help someone de-stress – almost any little thing can help. Trust me, I can attest to that! James will be pain-free some day soon and we’ll get to live in the same place because that’s the only future either of us will accept. We’ll get there because we want to. In the meantime, we’ve got the power of positivity on our side and an absolute unwillingness to give up. And one day, at our vow renewal, James and I will dance without reservation!

When the world starts falling apart around you, all you can do is start picking up the pieces and putting them back in an order you can understand. And that’s what we’re trying to do.

To infinity and beyond!

The cost of love

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When you’re young, you never associate paperwork and deadlines with a wedding. Planning a wedding is meant to be romantic and exciting, and it’s supposed to be that “making your dreams come true” kind of time. Dresses and tuxes and flowers and dates and parties and venues – all of these things happily float around in your head until it all comes together, culminating in the best day of your life. Well, that may be true if your significant other has the same nationality as you. You could throw together a wedding tomorrow if you were in a rush and get on with your lives together immediately! But some of us aren’t that lucky.

I love my fiancé more than life. I’m so happy I met him and I’m thrilled to some day call him my husband. But while I’m still excited to actually get married, the planning process of figuring out how to actually marry my English fiancé has almost completely sucked the excitement out of my engagement. Isn’t that awful? Here’s why:

For my fiancé to come here, we would have to apply for a visa. Have you seen or heard of the show on TLC called “90 Day Fiancé?” It’s kind of like that, except way more complicated. If you happened to watch the program, you’ll have noticed that when it first started, each couple mentioned how they’ve been with his or her significant other for at least a year or more. That duration is important to note because that means there was about a 6 month block of time where they were just sitting around waiting for the visa to simply get accepted. Why would it take that long? Well, to get what’s called the K-1 Visa, there are roughly one thousand steps. First, you have to simply petition for the visa. That’s not applying, folks. You have to state your case before you can even apply! And this petition, in which you must provide biographic information (proof of citizenship, census evidence/school records or/certificates of religious rites/every minute detail of your personal existence), a police certificate (preferably a clean one!), evidence showing that you plan to marry within 90 days of entry in the U.S., evidence that you have met in person, more forms (G-325A) specially formatted passport-style photographs taken within 30 days of filing the petition and other little details are all for the low, low cost of $400! After all that stuff is turned in, then the U.S. government may still turn around and request more evidence or require you to be interviewed before accepting your petition. When and if your petition is accepted, THEN you can apply for the actual visa. This part also includes the interview. You know, like in the movie The Proposal when Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds try to get married. Seriously, it’s very similar. If all your paperwork checks out and you can prove on paper that you’re not making up your whole history and relationship, then you have to sit before a government employee and answer any questions they want to ask about you and your relationship. I’ve been told that these questions can get quite personal as well, so that sounds fun, huh? I guess you just have to hope that your relationship sounds legitimate! Plus, at this interview, you’ll also have to bring with you an incredibly insane amount of more paperwork and evidence. This stuff includes things like medical records and a recent examination demonstrating your current health, evidence of financial support (I-134) that proves that your partner will never become a financial liability on the U.S., more evidence of the relationship’s validity, more photos and, of course, payment of all the fees involved. And again, even after all this, the government can still ask for MORE. Waiting for all of this to come through can take anywhere from a few weeks to a few months.. or a year. So let’s say after all this work, the visa is approved and your partner can now come and marry you in the U.S. When they show up and go through customs, there is still the possibility that they are not granted admittance into the country. Nice, huh? If you can pass go, then you’ve got 90 days to tie the knot or get gone, buzzo! Once that rushed marriage has taken place, you can apply for a green card to become a permanent resident. Yup, more paperwork, more waiting and more gambling. Even if you’ve gotten married, you can’t legally work in the country until you’ve applied for and been granted authorization to do so (I-485). So after you’ve dropped a couple thousand dollars on applications, petitions and forms, you may have tallied anywhere from 6 to 8 months worth of just waiting. Let’s hope that through all that stress, you were still able and excited to plan your wedding to take place in that 90 day time block!

What’s more is that while you’re waiting for your significant other to be able to move to you and be with you for good, you put your visa acceptance at risk if you plan any long visits to see each other during the waiting period. Why? Well, you have a love interest in the country and you’ve already expressed a desire to stay with them, so who’s to say you won’t just pop over for a visit and then never leave? Can’t have that! That’s illegal immigration!

So after I became frustrated and concerned that I couldn’t personally meet the threshold of the minimum income requirement to prove financial stability, and how the wait time was anywhere from half a year to 8 months, I turned to see if UK immigration was an easier process. Although very similar in terms of the process, I found that the red tape was a little looser and more flexible. Financial requirements aren’t as rigid and allow for more options, the paperwork and applications are processed and accepted (or denied) in a much quicker time frame (as soon as a few weeks!), and there aren’t fees on fees on fees each time a new form is filled out. However, the process is still just as much of a gamble, still very costly, very demanding and stressful and more or less the same as the U.S. process. The main things that appealed to me were the possibility of moving quicker and the ease of understanding the application process.

So while we wait the required 6 months that is necessary since we both accepted new jobs and need to do so in order to meet the financial requirements for either country’s visa, all I can do is anticipate and prepare as much as possible for the upcoming work involved in getting married. Now you can see why it’s upsetting and difficult to plan your long-awaited for wedding (seriously long) when you’ve got so many other things on your mind! The outside support from friends and family who are genuinely excited for our happiness helps redirect the focus from paperwork to bliss. Nevertheless, as with many things in life, there are naysayers that chime in, and sometimes it seems they’re louder than the cheerleaders. Love found across countries is a seesaw dipping back and forth between pure joy and stress.

And although I wouldn’t trade my fiancé for anything or anyone in the world and I don’t regret saying yes to marriage, I urge you to look at your own situation and learn to appreciate things that you two can do that isn’t a guarantee for others. Be able to look at your relationship and say, “yes, this IS a lucky kind of love” and learn to stifle your complaints about doing long distance or arguing over where you want to live or what have you. There are always ways in which it could be harder and there will always be people out there who may have things a bit more complicated. Love your love and always be grateful. And always remember, through any and all the stress, you’ve always got each other. Together is where you want to be, and do what you’ve got to do to get there. Whatever it takes!