Unexpected joys and regaining of health

It's only been a few days since I last blogged, but I'm feeling quite a bit better. Which is very good, especially considering all that I've ended up doing over the weekend. 

One very large tree at the park on Saturday: an Indian
Banyan. Obviously not all the trees in the park 
were native! My friends and I were imagining our kids
climbing in this tree when they were younger (and
probably even now).

On Saturday I spent several hours in a native-tree park with two of my best friends. It was delightful weather and fantastic company. The evening was also busy as my son and I socialised with our hosts over pizza and a documentary about the Thai soccer team rescue, followed by our usual weekend family video call.

And Sunday also ended up being very social. At 8.30 am I went to church with my two oldest sons, then talked to various people I knew there, some I first met as a child. The church now runs two services on a Sunday morning, to accommodate the restrictions the government had at one point for COVID, and so you can only talk inside after the 8.30 service for an hour before you have to leave. I ended up talking with an acquaintance who is an illustrator and author. After it was clear we needed to vacate the church building we progressed on to coffee at a nearby cafe, talking about writing, editing, writing retreats, creative process, etc. It was an unexpected delight, and one that has sparked some positive ideas and connections for the future. 

I then gathered my sons and we went for a Korean lunch in the home of a retired missionary; I first met her as a child when she came and taught my Sunday school class about Korea. We've stayed in touch all these years and it's wonderful that our eldest is now in the same church as her. She loves young people and enjoys inviting them round to her house, so our son isn't a stranger to having lunch with this lady.

After that we went back to where my middle son and I have been living and packed up our stuff. From there I took him to move in with his big brother. And I drove 30 minutes away to a friend's house, which is a real blessing to me at the end of this long period of living out of suitcases. These are our seventh abodes since mid-June, and we're a little travel weary! This is just for ten days and then we'll head to a hotel near the airport for our last night (hopefully) before flying back to Japan.

So, our sojourn in Australia is drawing to a close. We've still got a couple of appointments to take care of and I'm planning to spend time with my parents and sisters on Saturday. On Sunday I say see-you-next-year to the folk at our home church. And in the meantime I'm continuing to work at staying on top of the usual editing/managing/writing responsibilities I have for the Japan field, and thankfully I'm feeling a lot more able to do that this week. 

I came across the term "knowledge worker" yesterday while editing. It's the first time I've heard of that classification. And what I do fits it very well. My job is to "think for a living". I think it's a helpful term to understand some aspects of what I do. It was encouraging to hear my writing friend say on Sunday that recently, for some reason, she didn't have the headspace to cope with the larger editing tasks that her editor had asked her to do on her latest book manuscript. I often feel like that, only able to approach some of the harder editing tasks I have when I'm "in the right headspace". This month it's been challenging to try to push through getting editing work done while being below par health-wise. If you're a "knowledge worker" you have to be well enough for your brain to function at a higher level than if you're just doing relatively mundane tasks, like, say (for me), cooking a simple meal, or answering basic emails.

Back in March, I wrote this about one of the reasons we were coming to Australia at this time:

I'll stay longer in Australia with our middle son to do some reconnaissance for his future. He's still deciding about what his next steps are, and I hope that an un-hurried period in Australia as a young adult will help him consider what he might like to do next. Last time he was there he was 16, and in a period of high anxiety and stress at school, so it's really hard for him to imagine what life in an English speaking country might be like as an independent adult. 

It's hard to judge how well this reconnaissance has gone. But I think we'll be reaping the benefits over the coming year as we plan to relocate both our youngest sons more permanently in Australia. We've certainly been able to give them both plenty of "this is what it's like to be an adult or older teen" experiences. It's quite remarkable to do something they're familiar with in Japan, like going to the dentist, and see them experience the remarkable difference when they do it in Australia. Language makes a huge difference, and culture does too.

I'm heading into a more intense period of "transitionitis" again over the coming nine days, but hopefully not too bad, especially as we know that we're heading back "home" and into a familiar routine. And it's only one plane and two countries, not three and three! Hopefully I'll find some headspace to write here next week before I fly.

How are you? How do you even answer that?

How are you? Is a difficult question. It often requires one to either gloss over anything that isn't a brief "fine". If one goes beyond that, you have to be careful about "reading the air": is this person going to have the time to hear the whole story, do they even want to know? Or is this just a greeting, not unlike "Hello"? The postman asked me this after lunch, that was an easy one. The guy who sold me the RAT test that several minutes later came back positive, also asked me how I was! 

An array of brightly coloured cut
flowers at a local supermarket
that I enjoyed when I wasn't
feeling up to doing much more
than a bit of grocery shopping.

I'm no longer in quarantine, and more than two weeks past my "positive test day". But I'm not 100% back to my usual level of energy yet. Chronic asthma means my lungs take some time to recover from respiratory illnesses, but this virus has sapped my energy in ways that have surprised me. 

At its height, the illness felt very much like a miserable cold, but the lingering fatigue is different. Twice this week I met friends for coffee or a meal and I lasted about two hours before I was struggling to breath. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday were busy days with multiple excursions outside the house (appointments with or without my son, church, lunch/coffee) plus people at home to socialise with. These left me shaky and out of breath, or even feeling mild heart palpitations or discomfort in my throat. It's been challenging to balance all I want to or feel I need to do, with the energy I have available. It definitely reminds me of the "spoon theory" and gives me an extra appreciation for the daily struggle that people with chronic diseases or disabilities that sap their energy deal with.

It's now less than two weeks before we have tickets on a flight that will take my son and I back to Japan. This coming Sunday we make our second-last change of accommodation for this trip. We're splitting up. I'm going to stay with a friend and her family and our son will be trying out life in a share house with his brother and some other young guys. It's an experiment that we hope will help be a stepping stone towards independence for him.

Meanwhile, I'm continuing to work as I can on my varied responsibilities in Japan: I'm working on two issues of the Japan Harvest magazine as well as leading the social media team for OMF Japan. 

I'm thankful that I'm able to start most days with a video call with David, the time difference isn't a problem. We're starting each day with Bible reading and prayer, which is normal for us, so is helping to keep me balanced and to catch up quickly daily is also really helpful. He's back at work now and our youngest starts Yr 12 on Tuesday.

It's been good to have time to touch base with a few people in the last week or so and give them a longer answer to "How are you?". But also to be able to reassure them that we're planning to be back in Queensland this time next year, except then we'll be settled here for at least a year and be freed up to catch up with a lot of people. By the way, this coming year is going to be a big one: last year of having a child at school, packing up our home of 13 years, handing over our Japan ministry responsibilities, and settling into life and ministry in our fifth home assignment! 

But I'll be grateful to have August over and be back together with David in Tokyo soon. The prospect of that trip back to Japan is not appealing, it's one of those things that will be better to be in the past instead of the future. I simply can't believe Australians are busting to get back into international travel again, for fun! It really isn't that fun right now. 

However, I have enjoyed the freedom of going out without a mask on, and talking to people without that barrier. Yes, I probably got COVID because of that, but I also may have gotten it anyway. I see the importance of the strategy of masks, but that doesn't mean that I'm really comfortable with wearing one.

Summarising all the above as an answer to "How are you?" is pretty hard...but perhaps the short answer is "I'm doing okay." I'm breathing, my heart is beating, I'm loved, I've got food and a roof over my head. And most of all, I have hope. I was reminded of this encouraging passage again at church last Sunday:

But this I call to mind,

    and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

    his mercies never come to an end;

 they are new every morning;

    great is your faithfulness.

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,

    “therefore I will hope in him.”

 The Lord is good to those who wait for him,

    to the soul who seeks him.

 It is good that one should wait quietly

    for the salvation of the Lord. (Lamentations 3:21–26 ESV)

Blogging from quarantine

Yep, I caught the dreaded COVID. That's not all that's been going on. It's been a huge 10 days since I last posted.

The lovely view out my bedroom window.

Sunday

We all went to the same church and the same service for the first time in several years. After morning tea at a local coffee shop, the rest of the day was spent hanging about at home, enjoying our proximity for what we thought would be the last time for perhaps a year. 

But after dinner we got an email saying that David and our youngest son's flight the next morning was cancelled and things got all topsy turvy (these stresses go straight to my gut). So, we hung about, trying to be calm and watching the Commonwealth Games, while David worked to sort out an alternative flight, which turned out to be just 26 hrs later. Then we needed to tidy up all the dominoes: accommodation, transport to the airport, PCR tests (yes, still required for entry into Japan), transport from the airport in Tokyo, notifying OMF etc.

Monday

David and and our son travelled in the morning to get a new PCR test because Japan's rule is it needs to be done 72 hrs prior to flying. But while they were on their way our Japan line manager let us know that there is a loophole for cancelled flights: 96 hrs. So, they got there, cancelled the test David had booked, applied for a refund, and came home.

We got a few more hours as a "five-some" as we ate dinner together again that evening.

My plans for the day had been: drive the guys to the airport at "crazy o-clock" then go "home" to clean and move to our next accommodation. None of that happened. It was also supposed to be my first day telecommuting to Japan for work. I hadn't anticipated being able to get much done if things had gone to plan. But instead of sitting around in limbo, I pulled out my computer and tried to get a sense of where things were at with my two teams, and answered some urgent emails. I'm glad I did, because the rest of the week didn't pan out as planned either!

Tuesday

The change of flights meant a change of airport. I had a shorter drive at "crazy o-clock" to get them to a local train station. However, the farewell left me quite distressed, it was hard to drive "home" alone when part of my heart was heading back to the place that really feels like home at the moment.

A couple of hours later, though, I had responsibilities. I took our middle son to the psychologist and together we received the results of her assessment over the previous three weeks. This has been an important part of our time in Brisbane and will hopefully help guide us as we move forward in the next 24 months. But it wasn't easy to do this without David to talk to (he was in the air by then).

Then we went back to our "home" of three weeks and finished packing up and cleaning. Never my favourite tasks!

We drove to our next lodging (just 10 minutes away), which is the home where our eldest son boarded for over three years. He came over and helped us settle in and was a good ice breaker.

Wednesday

I tried to get up and get some work done, but really struggled to focus. Getting back into my work after six weeks away is hard, but with so much disruption going on around me, it was even harder. But then I started to feel my chest tightening up.

After lunch we went to buy groceries for our breakfasts and lunches. My throat was sore and I started coughing. I also had a nasty headache. Not unusual, I've had headaches most days in the last few months, but I think this one was extra nasty.

I got a little more computer work done, and had a Zoom meeting with my Line manager.

Thursday and Friday and onwards

I woke up on Thursday knowing that my first stop after breakfast would be obtaining a rapid antigen test for COVID. And, you know the end of the story: it was positive.

While I haven't been desperately ill, I really didn't get much else done in terms of work on Thursday or Friday. Just a little bit of urgent chasing up of people, or delegating. Some of which was typed on my phone while lying in bed.

My experience of COVID infection has been indistinguishable from the way my body usually reacts to a bad cold. I know that is not true for everyone, but that is how it's been for me. Because I have chronic asthma it's hit my breathing hard, but I have meds that I've been able to use to keep that in check. I know it's going to take a while to get back to a normal level of energy and breathing.

It's been a bit strange doing this in someone else's home with very few responsibilities of my own. I've mostly kept to my own room, but have had to use the kitchen and shared bathroom. We've been eating joint dinners outside on the verandah at separate tables!

I'm thankful that this has come at a time when I had few plans that needed changing or cancelling. This hasn't disrupted travel plans either! And also that there were few things that others were relying on me to do. But also that I've been sufficiently well enough to take care of my own basic needs. I've had a clean, cosy, and private room to quarantine in. And a family living in the house with their own schedule that has given some structure to the day, even though I couldn't participate in much of it. They are also providing our dinners (and we'd shopped for food for other meals just before I went into quarantine). I'm even thankful for the government rules that tell me to stay put and recover in isolation. I can't ever remember feeling so guilt-free about staying in my room and "being lazy" for such a long period!

I'm also thankful for friendship that I've developed that haven't depended on physical proximity. And technology. Though I've been alone in my room, I've not been lonely. Indeed, for example, I had a fantastic 2 ½ hr video call with two close friends yesterday afternoon that was life-giving.

I'm in quarantine through to Thursday morning and hopefully will only have a lingering occasional asthmatic cough by then. I have typed this sitting up at a desk, and had a sufficiently clear head to do some editing work too! Indeed, I have spent a lot less time horizontal today, so it seems like this infection is on its way out.

I hope the next ten days are less dramatic!