[ It’s been a while. Miss you Precious Reader! ]
AT THE START OF 2022, I was concerned about my chances of staying in my job.
By April, I wasn’t even sure I could stay in NZ.
Only a few weeks, later, in May, both these fears had given way to a more basic fear: Multiple pressures on my heart cast doubt on whether I could still hang on to health and continue living.
That was the sort of 2022 I had, and it didn’t stop there. The remainder of the year was almost as stressful.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
***** ***** *****
The last few years my body had been issuing too many checks that hadn’t been encashed. They all started falling due at the same time.
I’d been on regular night shift two weeks a month, 26 weeks a year.
I had a heart murmur that was almost undetectable at first, but which had grown so loud that doctors didn’t even need a stethoscope to hear.
In both cases I couldn’t do much. I needed the job both for badly-needed income and to finalize my migration status.
So it wasn’t like I had much choice in the matter.
In the case of the heart murmur, my heart although beating oddly was otherwise functioning well enough for me to live and work properly.
Unrelated to my heart issues, I was experiencing difficulties coping with my job. I didn’t realize the amount of skills needed in the rural areas of New Zealand.
One needed to combine skills and abilidad of trouble-shooter, engineer, tractor driver, forklift operator, pallet packer and even warehouseman in addition to my regular duties. A lot was expected from me, and I wasn’t measuring up.
My dilemma was I needed my job to finally formalize becoming a New Zealander. Otherwise all my years of patiently waiting for a chance to be accepted as a Kiwi would’ve been for nothing. So close and yet so far.
So now, not just keeping my job, but maintaining my health, in fact my beating heart was now a matter of life-and-death.
***** ***** *****
In a span of 10 days from the time an echo cardiogram and MRI of my heart revealed that something wasn’t going right, my brand-new cardiologist (provided free by the local healthcare unit) called me at work, bypassing his secretary.
“Are you at work Noel” he asked.
“Yes I am Doc,” I said, wondering what was up but slowly coming to terms with my new reality.
“What time to do you finish work?” he wondered out loud.
“6 pm Doc.”
as if knowing my log-off time would change his instructions.
“OK. Call your wife and ask her to pack a bag and bring you straight to the hospital. You need to be confined ASAP.”
“What’s wrong with me Doc?”
His exact medical response was something like, “Noel, you’re in the sh*t.”
***** ***** *****
No instant decision to fix my dodgy heart component though, at that moment. More tests, meetings with the cardio-thoracic team and a referral to a bigger hospital two towns away as my hospital didn’t have facilities for heart surgery.
But because of my relative fitness and comparative youth, I survived my surgery.
I wasn’t out of the woods though.
As far as I was concerned, my time with my current employer was finished. Even before my surgery, I was already struggling. How much harder would it be after?
Fortunately my previous employer handed me a lifeline and gave me a shot at returning.
More on these later.
Thanks for reading!
