I’ve been sitting here for the last hour with this tab open and the cursor blinking on the screen at me.

There’s so much that I could be blogging about, but I don’t for fear of someone in my real life finding my blog, knowing exactly who I am, and using stuff I write against me.

Basically, I live in a very (very) small city, and news travels fast. If one person from my work, or a workplace associated with my work in some way, read my blog and found out the “juicy goss” about me, you can guarantee that it’d get back to my workmates and, in turn, my boss.

Which is super unfair, because even though I post this publicly, I should be able to express my opinions and feelings freely within the confines of this site, and without fear of being ridiculed, ‘outed’ or that information shared by a third-party. The fact that rumours and news travels so fast makes it near impossible to be honest and open about my life beyond the apparent day-to-day stuff. Anything that I want to be kept from “those people” needs to be password-protected, which then makes it completely useless for those who I don’t mind reading that sort of thing.

I guess being *too* public with my life, who I am, was a bad choice. I don’t regret it, but I guess I could have done things a little better.

Hopefully in the coming weeks I can be a little more open without fear of people reading my blog just for the sake of getting some information about me and my life.

So I’m not posting this to embarrass myself (as embarrassing as it may be), or to embarrass my husband – I’m posting this as motivation.

This is my dirty little secret:

On Saturday (8th September) I was released from the hospital and have been staying at a hotel only 5 minutes from the hospital, and am now being treated as an outpatient.

While I thought it would be better to be in a hotel room (my own space, no interruptions, quieter), I almost miss the hospital for the simple fact of company – you’re never really alone in hospital, with people coming and going from your room, you almost always have someone to talk to.

Anyway, today I have an appointment at the hospital, in the high risk antenatal clinic, so I’ll be heading in there and requesting that I be allowed to go home sooner rather than later – I don’t think being away from my family is very helpful.  I have a scan booked in for Friday, I’m hoping that they will agree to let me go at least by the weekend.  I mean, it’s my right to refuse any further treatment or attention.

It seems rather cruel and inhumane to keep a 30-week pregnant woman away from her support base for 4 weeks, at the most emotional point she’ll ever experience in her entire life.  I only get to see my husband on weekends, which SUCKS majorly, and the occasional family member or friend during the week.  I manage to keep myself occupied, but I still don’t think it’s the right place for me to be – how can someone heal or rest in an unfamiliar place?

Rambling thoughts from someone who hasn’t got a lot of sleep the past 3 weeks.  I don’t know.  I just want out.

Sorry for being MIA for so long. I actually completely forgot about the whole blogging thing in amongst everything that I’ve had going on.

In August and September, I was helping to prepare, organise and enjoy the Australian Wiccan Conference – we had an absolute ball. It was an amazing energy with incredible people that I’ll never forget. Considering it was my first large gathering, included my first large ritual (ie more than 5-6 people) and my first national gathering, it was a real eye-opener for me, and a really emotional, spiritual experience. Loved every minute of it. The energy was just awesome.

So most weekends in August and the start of September was taken up with preparing decorations and small items for the Conference. I loved every minute of helping to organise the event and would do it again in a heartbeat.

My parents left for Europe on Saturday just been and it’s been really quite strange without them around already (it’s only been 4 days out of a 3-week trip!). I’m trying to keep an eye on my brother after last time without being too overbearing. I know that was over two years ago but I’m still not sure if he’s grown up much since then.

Unfortunately, at 2:00am Monday morning, Michael received a phone call that his Grandma had passed away. 2011 has not been a good year for us in terms of loss – I’ve lost more people close to me in the last 6 months than most people do in 5+ years. We’re not sure when the funeral will be, most likely next Monday or Tuesday, but that will mean a trip to Adelaide for Michael – we can’t both afford to go so just him and his sister will be attending.

So really, it’s been a hectic couple of months, hence my only posting now. Hopefully life will get back on track a little more and we can live some normalcy for a while. I’m trying to get in touch with myself again, spiritually. Finding it difficult to focus with everything going on but will try my best.

Sorry for the lack of recent updates – this whole week has been on a completely different track to the last few years so my mind’s a little fucked up.

Work has been kicking my ass lately. I’m getting sick of the fact that my boss doesn’t give two rat’s testicles about his employees. For example, when I left on Friday (because, you know, my GRANDMOTHER DIED), the first thing he asked our payroll lady was a) how long was I going to be away for, and b) what are my leave entitlements in relation to my grandmother passing away. What a fuckwit! How fucking insensitive can you be?!

Then my Dad has a heart attack on Sunday (which I’ll give you an update on in a sec, because that’s a post in it’s own right), I called on Monday (day of the funeral) to say that Dad has had a “massive” (the doctor’s words, not mine) heart attack and I’m not sure of how he’s going right now, and whether I’d be in on Tuesday. He said, “That’s fine, see you tomorrow” and hung up. FUCKWIT.

So anyway, I’m getting myself wound up. Dad went into hospital, as per last post, on Sunday 15th May. He had a stent put in his heart and was in the Intensive Care Unit for a couple of days, before they moved him to a regular ward since he no longer needed the ICU treatment. He was running a bit of a fever on the Wednesday, and obviously this means his body is fighting infection somewhere, so they put him on a drip with some antibiotics.
Well, of course his body is reacting differently at the moment, and he had a severe allergic reaction to the antibiotics, going into anaphylactic shock. He was on the phone to my Mum at the time and said, “Gosh, I don’t feel so good at the moment” – he was shaking all over and couldn’t control it. Mum told him to buzz the nurse, which he did three times before yelling out for help (all the while my Mum’s on the phone listening to all of this – can you imagine how you’d feel? I’d be sick..). They gave him a shot of adrenaline and then a steroid shot to balance everything out. He was fine after that but his muscles were all weak and he felt like he’d run a marathon.

He came home on Friday 20th, and it was so good to have him home. I said the whole time that he’d probably heal better being at home, getting rest, being in his own clothes (rather than the hospital gowns!) and in familiar surrounds. He’s still having a hard time getting around without being completely exhausted – just a walk from the lounge to the kitchen is an effort – but he’s on the road to recovery.

Thanks for all your support, guys – it means a lot to receive messages from around the world with notes of support and well-wishes, sometimes from people you don’t even know and definitely from people who didn’t/don’t know my Nana or my father. The online community, with its few exceptions (there are always a few exceptions!) is a wonderful thing to be a part of.