It's a little under two weeks until Darrell comes home, and I can finally say I am starting to feel relieved. At the moment, I have many emotions to contend with, from excitement to anger and anything in between; all of them are valid right now. I am of course happy Darrell is coming home, but I am also angry that so much time has been wasted; we have both lost nearly two years together, because of an Australian government, that has refused to let families see one another during this endless pandemic.

Our situation is very different to most separated family members, during the last eighteen months. Mum is still undergoing cancer treatment and Darrell has had to be with her, on and off, since 2016. The arrangement Darrell and I made, meeting each other twice a year, before COVID, crumbled as soon as Australia closed its borders. We were left in a precarious position, because of circumstances beyond our control, and there was nothing we could do about it.

Darrell and I have always thrived under the worst of situations, and if I am honest, there have been quite a few of those. Despite the difficulties we have experienced over twenty-six years together, we have always managed to come out on top. I am a follower of fate, and I believe Darrell and I were meant to be. We are husbands first and foremost, but we are more than that — soul mates, best friends and partners who continue to navigate the obstacles thrown our way.

Living apart from each other during a particularly traumatic period in history, is not something we bargained for, but like most things in our life, it will undoubtably make our relationship stronger. Tough and punishing times, really do test us to our limits, but like most people, we have had to learn to adapt to the surrounding challenges. Living life in the best way I can, has certainly been a mantra I have followed and equally Darrell has built a temporary life for himself in Western Australia. It is true to say our respective lives have diverged, but we have always been working towards the same goals and aspirations, ultimately reunited and picking up from where we left off in November 2019.

Darrell's arrival on the 16th September will signal the start of a new chapter, but it will also be the birth of another fight for survival. Plans we have discussed for the future are all well and good on paper, but in practice they may not necessarily work. Sometimes I think how different my life could have been, if I had followed a more conventional path, but then remember how lucky I am to have done the things I have. The years I have spent with Darrell certainly haven't been boring, but when it comes to finally settling down, after everything that has transpired, especially in recent times, it is hard deciding where our heart lies.

I don't want to go over the options available to us again, as I have written much about 'what happens next,' but it is important that we way up all the alternatives. Once again, I am looking at this conundrum from a positive point of view. Most people at my age have their lives mapped out for them. Living in a house, with 2.4 children, paying a mortgage, in a career they don't always like. This isn't something I have ever wanted; if I am honest, I am quite happy to continue travelling the World. This is probably where our life will take us once again, eventually.

Travelling at the moment is impossible; it looks like we will have to wait, maybe years, before we can continue flying in the same way we did before the pandemic. It is inevitable therefore, that  we will establish ourselves in a way we haven't really done before. Darrell is less keen to travel, so I envisage a time when we stay put, until Coronavirus becomes a thing of the past; like everything, it is dependent on what trajectory the pandemic takes. Talking to my Aunt last night, I said how much I missed foreign shores, the feel of the Mediterranean sun on my face or the vibrancy of Asia on my doorstep. I am also well aware I won't be stepping foot on a plane anytime soon, as much as I would like too. Holidays abroad look like distant memories, journeys just out of reach; making the best of this 'new normal' World is the only plan we have for now.

It is important we use these two weeks before Darrell arrives to think about where we go from here. Whilst COVID continues to rage across the World, it seems sensible to continue with the status quo, hanker down and continue very much in the same vein we have. This is the first time we will have to think long term, planning for happier days ahead. There will be no more living day to day and making spontaneous decisions without accounting for our actions. This is a time for reflection, contemplation and not making any rash decisions!

Thomas's 3rd Birthday

This week, my Cousin Thomas celebrated his 3rd Birthday. It was a reminder to me of just how many occasions and special events Darrell has missed since he has been living in Australia. Due to work commitments, I could only spend part of the day with family, but by all accounts he had a wonderful day.

With family now central to my life in Britain, it has become the most important reason to stay. When circumstances allow, I will be my Cousin Eli's Godfather, which is yet another basis to remain firmly in Portsmouth. In previous blogs, I have discussed the cost of property in the South of England, which is likely to be prohibitive in the long term. Staying with my Aunt in the short term is the stop gap we need, in order to save for our future, wherever it is. If we save enough, we should be able to get a small property, but that is dependent on our situation.

I am reluctant to leave my roots now; I am very happy and settled where I am and although my Aunt is fine with me living here with Darrell, I know we both will need our own place, sooner rather than later. If we do end up buying a home up north, to rent out, we are both OK about renting a small flat in Portsmouth or Southsea. We do not intend to just throw years of savings away on paying a landlord rent, and literally have nothing to show for it. It is a mark of how old I am, that I am even considering buying a retirement flat when time allows. This isn't something either of us really want to do right now; we are not in the twilight of our years yet.

As we continue to save for an uncertain future, we are aware of the difficulties ahead. It won't be until Darrell returns home, that we will really know where life will take us. Gathering together enough cash to start the process of rebuilding after the pandemic, is a priority that overtakes anything else with desire to achieve. When we have secured our path, we will then resume our journey, travelling to places we can only dream of today.

I have always done my best to help others when they are experiencing hardship; it is the mark of a civilised society, to be there for those in need. Looking at the scenes from Afghanistan over the last few weeks, has been harrowing. The frustration I feel towards The United States and Britain, in withdrawing troops from the country in such a chaotic, orderless way, is just too emotionally charged to print on here. Safe to say, I am furious and exasperated at the television broadcasts I see daily.

A few days ago, I was contacted by an Afghani, who I will refer to as Insaf, who is in a wretched situation. Having worked for the Americans, his life is now in danger, as The Taliban take over Afghanistan. Living in Kabul, he is now lying low and has asked me to pass on documentation to anyone who can help him exit the city. He has filled in the visa application required to fly to the US, but has not heard back from the immigration authorities. With the window of opportunity closing fast, it looks likely Insaf will be left behind, in a sea of anguish and desperation, like thousands of others, displaced by this dangerous withdrawal of allied troops.

Of course, as a British citizen, there is very little I can do to help, but I am trying my best. Insaf, has sent me important documents, including his National Identity Card, personal details and a 'Statement of Threat,' detailing his precarious circumstances. Reading through this document, I was terrified at what could happen to him and his family. He has had direct threats from the Taliban in person and on his phone, and has been told his life is in danger. I feel particularly helpless and just wish there was more I could do.

Whilst messaging him yesterday, I soon became aware that The Taliban were outside his house, checking his neighbourhood for anyone who had worked with or for the Americans. This poor guy was hiding from view, trying to avoid a group of people, responsible for some truly heinous acts of depravity. All I can do is chat, make sure he is OK and try to offer a semblance of calm and normality. This young man is clearly frightened and fearful, scared for his life; I can only observe from the sidelines, unaware of the dangers Insaf faces every hour. The situation in Kabul  has become increasingly desperate and deeply personal for me; this is a fight I feel involved in, and I just want to help in any way I can.

I have sent all the documentation I have to the American State Department, as well as various people here in The UK, who I believe can help. These include the Defence Secretary, Armed Forces Minister and other Members of Parliament, who can reach out and highlight his case. I have also forwarded all the information to western media outlets, inside and outside of Afghanistan, who may just be able to facilitate safe passage for Insaf and his family. I have heard back from Ben Wallace, the Defence Secretary, who has passed details of his case to the Ministry of Defence, and the hope is, he will speak to his American counterpart.

All of us at Roaming Brit want to wish Insaf well, as he navigates his journey out of Kabul. I hope he can get to safety soon, either as part of the ongoing airlift or via any of the land borders that remain open. In the meantime, I will stay in contact and continue to bring his case to the attention of the British and American Governments. People like Insaf can not be forgotten, we owe them a great deal; they must be rescued and resettled, protected from the Taliban and ensured safe passage out of Afghanistan!

Today is the first day I have actually been able to do some writing, after the operation on Monday. I am still feeling quite groggy and disorientated, which I personally put down to the general anaesthetic I had. The truth is, I have always suffered after being anaesthetised; after an operation in the late 1980s, I was left sick for many days, so it was no surprise that I felt the same way this time. I am just thankful to have finally had my gallbladder removed.

In the evening, before my operation on Monday, I was contacted by the Hospital and asked to attend the Theatre admissions department at 6.30 am. The lady I spoke to said I would be  first on the list that day, and they wanted to get me prepped and ready for the cholecystectomy by 8.30 in the morning. There was no eating allowed before the op, and I had to bring a dressing gown and a pair of slippers with me.

I arrived at the admissions' suite early and was immediately seen by a nurse who asked me a series of questions, and took my blood pressure, it was 124/80, more or less normal, as it should be. For me, this alone is a big achievement; ditching blood pressure tablets and managing to get my blood pressure under control, with lifestyle changes, including stopping drinking and smoking was a big undertaking. She seemed pleased with the result and directed me to a room to change into a surgical gown. Finally, she gave me a pair of stockings to wear, and said I would have to keep them on for the next 48 hours, just in case of blood clots.

Whilst not the most attractive fashion statement, the nurse explained how important it was to keep these on at all times and I wouldn't be able to bathe or shower during the 48-hour period. She also told me to keep hold of them for any future long haul flight, since they would afford better protection than other shop bought travel tights. Suitably impressed, I've only just taken my tights off today. I certainly don't have a predisposition to blood clots, but one can never be too careful after surgery.

The operation lasted about an hour and a half to two hours, which was longer than expected. As a rule, it takes about forty-five minutes to remove the gallbladder, but that is dependent on individual circumstances. I had been experiencing a lot of left sided pain, so it was suggested some of the biliary ducts in the area could have been affected, although I wasn't told this for sure. The reason for removal on my discharge notes states biliary colic, which encompasses any of the scenario's that could have occurred during surgery. I was told by a friend who I used to go to school with, that she had also had a cholecystectomy and had remained in theatre for a little over six hours, which made me thankful, mine was so quick.

Despite this being a routine procedure, it is still a major operation and does take its toll on the body. Initially, it took me many hours to eventually come round after the operation. I was particularly ill afterwards, vomiting constantly; my aversion to the anaesthetic and the opiates used, made me feel dreadful, something I still haven't recovered from three days later.

According to the nurse taking care of me after the operation, the laparoscopic procedure used to remove my gallbladder, uses CO2 gas to blow up the abdomen. This makes the body cavity easier to navigate; She did stress that I would feel some residual gas afterwards, which could cause pain. The tight chest I was experiencing, which was getting worse by the minute, was the gas moving up the body. It was particularly difficult to breathe, and she gave me what she could to ease the pain.

The wounds on my torso were less painful, at least initially, although the one just above my belly button was hurting far more than the others. With a large bruise forming just below, it was clear this was where the main point of entry was. Still under the effects of the anaesthetic, I wasn't really aware of just how painful it would be later on.

I was discharged from QA at 7pm, feeling decidedly sick. It was wonderful being cared for by Nurse Beverly, a regular at The Newcome Public House where I work, who looked after me faultlessly. In typical NHS style, she brought me Ginger nuts to settle my stomach and some peppermint tea to make me feel better. They were a wonderful bunch in 'recovery' and made my brief stay as comfortable as possible.

Today is Thursday, three days after the operation, and I have only just started to feel better. The gas has almost gone now, but pain where my scars are, have really kicked in, as they begin to heal and pull ever tighter. I have been given two weeks off work and should be OK to return by then, although I will have to avoid heavy lifting for several weeks after that.

This was an operation that was a long time coming, and I am hoping that after a year and a half I can start to feel more like my old self again. I am not sure whether or not the IBS symptoms I have been experiencing, over the last three years will remain, or get worse, or better in the preceding months. No one really knows if there was a relationship between gallbladder disease and the IBS I suffered with. All I can say is I feel pretty good for now and haven't needed to take any IBS medication. My wish is I finally see the back of it, the reality is rather different. I expect my IBS to last way beyond this operation, but gradually as I start to reintroduce food into my diet, that I haven't eaten in years, I hope there will be some improvement; so far so good. For now, I remain hopeful that life will finally get better, and the pain will eventually subside!

On Monday, I had my pre-op with the Upper GI department at Queen Alexandra Hospital. Having only ever had one operation before, in the 1980s, for an emergency appendix removal, I really have no idea what to expect. According to the lovely lady I spoke to on the phone, times have changed a lot, since the last time I had a general anaesthetic. Naturally however I am worried about having major surgery, especially because I have so many other conditions to contend with, but suitably reassured, I am looking forward to having my gallbladder finally removed, after a year and a half wait.

The operation itself shouldn't be too difficult and is a relatively common procedure. It is carried out through keyhole surgery, unless they have to do an open removal, which would complicate matters and extend the recovery time. My biggest concern is how much damage has been done, because of the long wait due to the pandemic. Also, I have a lot of left sided pain, rather than right, which is unusual and may indicate something different is going on. At the moment, I just don't know how bad the damage is; this is an operation that should have been scheduled a year ago.

The severity of the pain I have been experiencing would suggest other internal processes at work. My symptoms are wide and varied, probably because of IBS and the other illnesses I suffer with, but I am trying to remain focused on the future and what happens after the operation.

Of course, I am hoping my quality of life will improve after the cholecystectomy, but that isn't guaranteed. Most people return to normal afterwards and are able to eat a conventional diet, but for others it isn't that simple.  For some, eating a diet that contains fat of any kind is impossible, with the body unable to process it in the same way again; this isn't dissimilar to my eating habits today. Currently, I can only eat very small amounts of fat in my diet, due to a dysfunctional gallbladder. If I do consume too much, the pain is unbearable, and I am immediately sick. I am so careful with what I consume, because of the terrible symptoms I suffer, if I stray too far away from natural, non-processed foods. I am well aware of the difficulties ahead, but am prepared to have the procedure anyway, in order to try to get back to a semblance of normality and a regular routine, of sorts.

It looks like I will be off work for a couple of weeks, while the wounds heal. I will be left with five small scars across my abdomen, after the gallbladder is removed. Initially they will be sore, but should improve quickly, and I should be up and about in a relatively short time. Unable to do anything strenuous for six weeks, I hope to be back to my old self by September, although I will probably live with Gastrointestinal issues for a lot longer. Naturally, I have read much on the operation, especially in conjunction with IBS, and I am apprehensive, my IBS may get worse. I have so many GI issues now, that my stomach just doesn't know whether it's coming or going, and I have a feeling this is something I will have to live with long term. Preparing for the worst is my forte; being the realist I am, I just have to keep hoping for the best case scenario!

Sadly, Darrell will not be here when I am in Hospital, which of course adds extra anxiety, to an already challenging situation. Like so many other milestones in our life together recently, we will not be together, and that makes everything more difficult. Having an operation, whilst my partner is in another country, is going to be hard. I keep having thoughts of not waking up and never seeing him again. I have been preparing for any eventuality and making sure all my affairs are in order before my op on the 26th. Making sure Darrell is aware of any issues that may arise, is top of my agenda, just in case the worst happens, but let's not dwell and only concentrate on the new beginning that will follow.

On Monday I have a series of blood tests, to check my iron levels and make sure I am well enough to have the operation, then on Friday I will have a PCR COVID test and immediately go into self-isolation, before the operation on Monday morning. I have been told it may be a long wait and that I will also have to stay in hospital afterwards, to be monitored, mainly because I don't have anyone who can be with me for 24 hours after the procedure. Staying in hospital during a pandemic, is also not something I am looking forward to, but I am aware I will be kept in the safest parts of QA and will be as protected as I can be.

Whatever the outcome, I am just glad it will be finally over. Unless the pandemic really accelerates and hospital beds fill, cancelling the gallbladder operation. I hope to be back at work within a few weeks, until then, I'll just sit, worry, procrastinate and act like the nervous wreck I normally am; it's the way I have always muddled through and part of the person I have always been.

This Friday really did feel like a new chapter, despite the Indian Coronavirus variant raging across Britain at the moment.  Like most of us, I have my concerns about this new COVID strain, but after having my second vaccination I have finally started to relax a little more.

Originally I was due to have my second dose of AstraZeneca on the 9th of June, but had my jab brought forward by several weeks, due to the changing circumstances. According to today's news, this new Indian variant has now become the dominant mutation in the UK, with the number of new cases doubling over the last few days alone. Of course, it remains unclear just what will happen over the next few months, but like everyone else, I just hope and pray the vaccines work, and we ride out the coming third wave relatively unscathed. I am as protected as I can be now, the rest is up to luck, good fortune and a positive gene pool!

The injection was once again painless, I didn't even know I had been given it. There was a longer screening process at St James' Hospital, in contrast to my first jab, just to make sure I hadn't had any adverse symptoms the first time round. I was presented with the usual literature explaining side effects and this time, also a leaflet on blood clots, just in case I was to be unlucky enough to experience them. I was in and out of the centre within twenty minutes and was grateful it was all over and I can hopefully get back to a relatively normal life. COVID will be around for a long time that's for sure, but all of us can at least play our part, get the jab when called and safeguard those around us; it's the decent thing to do!

With the new Johnson and Johnson vaccine approved in the UK on Friday, offering single dose protection against COVID, it looks more and more likely the UK will beat this virus in the future. The news remains full of doom and gloom, but I am hopeful the end is in sight. The biggest problem, in my view, is opening up the country too soon creating a train of transmission that could end in disaster. It is important that we all learn to live with Coronavirus, but it is also necessary we continue to maintain the measures in place, designed to keep us safe.

I have noticed people beginning to let their guard down, remove their masks and ignore the social distancing measures. As you walk around the high street, you notice the near normal way people are conducting their business; this is frightening, especially when we are so close to winning, and I am mindful of the mistakes we made in the past as a nation. I will be practising social distancing and mask wearing for a long time yet, I am just not ready to believe we have won this war. Yes we are nearly there, but stupid behaviour could push us over a precipice once again, if we disregard the warning signs. These are probably the most dangerous days of the pandemic, we need to remain vigilant, protect ourselves and our families  and continue looking after the vulnerable, then ever so slowly, we will emerge to fight another day!

My little cousin and Godson Eli celebrated his second Birthday on Friday also and despite feeling a little groggy after my vaccine, I managed to pop along with my Aunt and Cousin to give him a Birthday present. It was yet another sign that things are gradually returning to normal. A small Birthday party with close family, provided the perfect opportunity to relax and actually have a couple of drinks, rare for me. To be honest the beer went straight to my head, probably because of the way I was feeling, but time out was just what the Doctor ordered, before a very long week ahead.

The importance of family has shone through during this pandemic, I don't think I would have got through the dark days without them. Being away from Darrell has been hard of course, but having the support of loved ones has been important. A simple Birthday party is a reminder of the circle of life, that will continue long after I have gone. As Eli grows, he will undoubtedly forget the pandemic years, for me, they will remain a part of who I am. Times that changed me as a person, have helped me forge a new path, separated from my husband. When the sun finally shines brightly once again, I will be grateful I've had time with people I love, creating new and enduring bonds, living each day with a family who care!

On Sunday I celebrated my half century; I am now officially old, having reached the big 50. This was not a milestone, I was looking forward to celebrating with undiluted happiness and if I could have opted out, I would have done. However, My Aunt had arranged a surprise party, and I was quite emotional when I saw the decorations in the morning. My Aunt had done something no one else has ever done before, and I was determined to enjoy the day.

Of course, COVID-19 restrictions are still in place until 17th May, so my Birthday was a rather scaled down affair, with only close family and friends invited. The regulations allowed for an outdoor gathering of no more than half a dozen, and we kept very much to those rules. My Birthday this year was a pyjama party, which made for a far more relaxing day. The kids played in the garden, I had a few beers myself and my cousins prepared a buffet, to be eaten throughout the day.

After a cooked breakfast and Bucks Fizz, I opened presents and cards that had been displayed on the kitchen table. An eclectic selection of gifts with deeply personal meaning - a silver necklace, engraved with a photograph of my long since departed cats, Lily and Precious, ornaments, pictures, jewellery and even a canvas sent by Darrell, currently in Australia. A dream catcher, UV sanitiser (Sign of the times) for my mobile phone and keys etc and a Tibetan Singing Bowl, along with Marmite and Mollie Sugden memorabilia, wine and chocolates concluded the present list. With everything reminding me of better times, my spirits were lifted, even in the face of old age.

My Aunt had also arranged a surprise visit from my oldest friend Ramona, who arrived in the late morning. It was amazing to see her, especially given the circumstances. Ramona and I have known each other for thirty years, after attending University together in Southampton, and we always have lots to talk about. She has been a particularly calming influence on me over the years and I cherish the memories I have in her company, making her appearance especially poignant.

The day would have been perfect had Darrell been with me, but circumstances are still conspiring to keep us apart. Speaking on a phone or receiving a card and gift through the post, just isn't the same, no matter how grateful I am. We have lost so much of our life together over the course of this pandemic, that I hope the ongoing damage it has caused isn't long-lasting. Both of us have had to make separate lives, far away from one another, and it is difficult to know when or if that will change. Celebrating another lockdown Birthday is yet another reminder of the terrible times we are living through, months that have left an indelible mark on all of us!

Yesterday a friend and colleague Jules invited me to his house for yet another celebration. A fellow colleague, Angela, also has their Birthday on the same day, so Jules had arranged an impromptu COVID friendly party for us both.

Currently, six people are allowed to meet outside, so six of us spent the afternoon together, drinking a bottle or two of wine and eating some nibbles, Jules had prepared.

As you would expect, conversation mainly centred around longevity and growing older, which most of us there have experience of, in spades. Reaching a milestone age, can be particularly difficult, so the day after my Birthday, was the perfect opportunity to spend time with workmates. These are the people I spend most of my time with after all, working alongside every day. Relaxing in the company of like-minded individuals is a great way to shake oneself back into reality and try to put age into some sort of perspective. No, it isn't fun getting older, but it is something all of us will experience and as long as we remain content and focused, we should manage quite well.

I have felt especially spoilt over the last few days; from seeing hardly no one at all, over the last fifteen months, to having what seemed like a constant flow of friends and family back in my life. These are people I haven't seen in a social setting for such a long time. My Aunts arranged Birthday surprise, is the first family occasion I have been a part of since the start of the pandemic, nearly a year and a half ago. Likewise, visiting my Father was another first. I haven't seen him in over six months. Then yesterday, sat in the garden with friends, an event that would have seemed impossible, just a few short weeks ago.  All of these simple pleasures, taken for granted before 2020, now circumstances to savour, hold close and relish in the new world order, we are all living through today.

I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel as we gently ease out of restrictions, next year the pandemic should be a distant memory, as I celebrate my 51st. I will nevertheless remember these last few days with fondness, as the beginning of the end of the pandemic and a return to the freedoms we once enjoyed. My 50th this year is a milestone like no other and one I will never experience again!

The funeral of HRH The Duke of Edinburgh on Saturday, was yet another reminder of the distressing times we are living through. Her Majesty The Queen, sat alone, without the support of her family. The scene was poignant and moving, creating anxiety for The entire royal family. It brought home the scale of the pandemic and underlines the affect its reach has on every one of us, rich, poor and even our own Head of State.

This was a royal occasion like no other I have seen in my lifetime and if I am honest, one of the most emotional national events I have ever witnessed. The COVID pandemic had ensured a scaled down funeral, but it also guaranteed a more intimate affair and the raw sentiment of the day was clear to see. Like a gaping wound, the Royal Family had to say their final farewell to The Duke, at a time of restrictions and regulation, in the glare of publicity, broadcast all over the World.

The Queen arrived at the church with a lady in waiting, although, because the funeral was restricted to just 30 guests, Her Majesty entered alone, walking the short distance through the archway of the portico, where she was greeted by the Dean. Briefly, she looked back, one may assume she was looking for her husband, another member of her family, or just a guiding hand, but there was no one there, and she slowly, shuffled into the Chapel. This was a 95-year-old Monarch, who had given her life to her country and was now carrying out probably the most burdensome task of her life.

I was struck by how frail she looked; a black mask trimmed in white, covering the emotions on her face. Saturday truly felt like the end of an era, with the burial of Prince Philip; I had the feeling we were coming towards the end of our second Elizabethan age, in a way I hadn't seen before. When two people have been married for 73 years, the death of one or the other is a great loss for the surviving partner. In many cases they also pass away shortly afterwards. I was conscious of the great sadness Queen Elizabeth must have felt, but was also aware of her enduring dedication to our Country and recurrent sense of purpose. This is a Monarch who has much to live for, as we all continue to battle this pandemic and I hope she will be around for many more years to come.

Sometimes I can't believe how much all our lives have changed in such a short space of time. Watching The Queen and Royal Family wearing masks, was a sign of the times in every respect. I have become so used to adorning a mask myself, I doubt I will ditch it anytime soon, even if we are allowed to in the near future. I understand the  historic period in history we are living through, one that will be talked about for generations to come. It is likely, the pandemic of 2020/21 will be taught in schools, long after I have gone and when this is all over, our lives would have changed out of all proportion.

Today I have to take two Coronavirus tests a week to make sure all those I come into contact with are kept safe. I am in close contact with family and colleagues at work, so it is necessary to know that I am well, even if I have had my first COVID-19 vaccination. Initially I used to attend the Guildhall here in Portsmouth and take my lateral flow tests there. The process was quick, and I was generally sent the results in a text message within half an hour. Despite this, I always felt wary going there, mainly due to the amount of people queuing to have their tests. As a retail worker however, I am well aware of the importance of getting them done each week, so sought out an alternative. Now, I am able to order the tests online once a fortnight and have them delivered to my door. This is far easier to do and ensures I never forget to do one.

This is just one aspect of life that has transmuted and if I am honest, it is a process that will become a regular part of all our lives now. It is of course a mild inconvenience, but really nothing more. If it allows us to carry on a relatively normal life, then it is welcome. After the awful debacle of our Governments woeful pandemic response and the now 127,000 deaths, it is great to see the systems in place to protect us, finally working as they should.

A few days ago I watched a television programme on the devastation COVID is causing in Brazil. Right wing (borderline fascist) President Jair Bolsonaro, has taken his country down a dark path. The President refuses to lock the Country down, despite the deaths of nearly 400,000 people. 100,000 Brazilians are expected to die in April alone, as the incompetent Bolsonaro presides over a failed Coronavirus strategy, that is destroying life and scarily providing the right conditions for the virus to mutate into more, dangerous strains. Sitting there, watching in horror, as bodies were stacked up in crammed and crowded corridors, I was shocked at the scenes I was witnessing; With three million dead Worldwide, we are still very much in the eye of the storm and there is no sign it will change anytime soon.

I was so critical of Boris Johnson and his Government a year ago. They made mistake after mistake, but time has proven to be a great healer. Finally, as a nation, we are back on track, having vaccinated sixty-three percent of the population and yesterday recorded just ten deaths. Every life lost is a tragedy, but when one compares this to the thousand plus deaths a day, not that long ago, I think we are all thankful we are finally getting it right. Slowly opening the country has been the biggest success after the lockdown; when one factors in the successful immunisation programme, we are actually winning for a change, beating back the virus and protecting the population.... Long may that last!

Some good news this week; Darrell will definitely get his vaccination next week in Australia, being one of the first to receive it, after a short delay. This will mean he will be safe to travel here in November, under the Australian exemption scheme, allowing him to fly to Britain. This at least gives us some hope at an otherwise difficult time.

At the moment all of us are just living each day as it comes, not knowing what's around the corner. We may well be slowly opening up, but none of us know how long that will last. The Government has already indicated it will lock down if cases start to rise again, so it is likely we could find ourselves back at square one. For now, I am feeling more optimistic than I have in a long time and hope the next few weeks, will allow Darrell and I the opportunity to plan for the future. Nothing is of course certain; I just hope the impending summer, shines light on all our lives, and we can get back to the normality all of us crave!

It was all change today, as Britain moved out of lockdown and began to open up once again. After four months of closure, non-essential shops, hairdressers, alfresco dining and pubs can once again reopen, beginning the first tentative steps towards normality. Of course this was happening under the veil of the Duke of Edinburgh's death and the national eight days of mourning the country is currently in the midst of.

Out of respect to Prince Philip, all flags on public buildings are flying at half-mast and Portsmouth is no exception. Taking a short walk to Guildhall square over the last few days, I was pleased to see the Union Flag lowered to honour the memory of one of our countries greatest modernisers. Being a naval city, Portsmouth did have a close association with His Royal Highness and other members of the Royal Family. Guns were fired at The Hard in Portsea to mark his passing and by and large, locals are respectful and contemplative about the death of a long-standing national figure, like the Duke. You would expect nothing less from the headquarters of The Royal Navy, and I am proud to call this place home.

Things do seem rather different after the Dukes death; the period of national mourning dictates how Britain functions for the next eight days. Newsreaders and presenters wear sombre clothes, television shows reflect the mood of the country, and public services and advertising billboards give consideration to the loss of a significant member of the royal family. I was moved by a simple advertising hoarding at a bus stop in Commercial Road, marking the death of His Royal Highness, a sight mirrored throughout the city and country at large. The next eight days will be a period to remember and reflect on the life of Prince Philip, but it will also be a time to think about our own families and the loss we have all felt over the last year. There is no doubt we are all living through historic times and the death of the Queen's husband reinforces the challenges we are navigating; all of us have to find our own path through the difficulties both now and tomorrow.

The changing landscape was most noticeable today, as England's strict lockdown was lifted. I walked into the city early, to see everyone at Cancer Research, where I will be returning  soon, to once again start volunteering with Zerina, Sam and everyone else. I took a bag of unwanted clothes into the shop, and it was wonderful to finally see it open again, since its closure, the week before Christmas. The usual faces were there, beavering away behind the scenes; it felt like 'coming home,' chatting with old friends and colleagues alike.

The shop had been cleared of all its Christmas stock, that had been proudly displayed up until a few days ago. It looked refreshed and ready for customers to return once again; such a welcome sight, after an awful trading period. Some members of staff were a little apprehensive over the reopening, after only having a single jab, but most were just happy to be back making money for Cancer Research. In a few weeks, after a particularly busy time for me, I will be back in the ranks, looking forward to the months ahead.

The rest of the city centre, was less busy than I expected. There were plenty of people about, but not the huge crowds one would have expected on the first day after lockdown. There was a large queue of customers outside Primark, but it was all well-organised and good-humoured, as everyone waited patiently in line. Thankfully I wasn't going to join them for a spot of shopping, Primark just isn't my kind of shop and I could think of nothing worse than being in close quarters with the great unwashed. I hurriedly passed by, happy to avoid the eager shoppers.

The constantly changing landscape has been discernible over the last year, as we move from lockdown to opening up. The failure of 'Eat Out to Help Out,' and inevitable spread of the virus, cancelled family Christmases, the closure of public houses, communistic queuing in high streets and dystopian views, with roads free of traffic, have all contributed to a period like no other in our history. I am conscious of the tumultuous days that our now behind us, but I am apprehensive about the equally unsettled future ahead.

Walking around the high street today, in the middle of an international crisis and an eight-day period of national mourning, I was more aware than ever of my own place in the World. I am just a single person, on a planet of 7 billion, trying to survive at a time when the planet is being ravaged by a pandemic. These first small steps to freedom are just the beginning of a return to sanity and I embrace them wholeheartedly. I hope and pray this will be the last lockdown, but nothing is certain as we all do our best not to repeat the mistakes of the past!

Yesterday I was in a reflective mood, especially after the death of HRH Prince Philip. I have had time to think about the past and the future direction I want my life to take. When someone dies, in this case The Duke of Edinburgh, you are confronted by your own mortality and the reality is, I am not particularly happy reaching the milestone of fifty years old. I remember how traumatic it was, reaching forty, and I have very similar feelings today. This will also be the first year, I have celebrated a significant Birthday, without my partner by my side; this will be the most difficult of days and I would rather it wasn't happening at all!

It has been another difficult week in mine and Darrell's life, living apart, as we continue to grapple with partnership in a pandemic. We are trying to cover all possible scenarios as we near the end of his two years away from the UK. It is difficult to gage exactly what will happen when his Indefinite Leave to Remain visa has expired, but both of us have to think of the worst that can happen. Our situation isn't ideal, so as I approach my 50th year I am conscious of just how difficult life is at the moment.

Darrell and I have always celebrated our Birthdays to the fullest. For many years we would stage large parties and invite all our friends. In recent years however, especially during this pandemic, Birthdays have been rather low-key. I suppose I appreciate that, especially with Darrell being away from the UK; I am just not in the mood for celebrating, even if it is my fiftieth. Equally, reaching half a century is no mean feat. I never expected to reach this milestone; always living my life in the fast lane, experiencing everything I could, I fully expected to be dead long before now, but thus far it wasn't to be.

Recently I heard of the death of a friend from the 1990s, a carefree, happy time in my life; Peter Crossman sadly passed away after battling cancer. Peter was younger than I and I have some rather fond memories, spending time with him, during a period of discovery as I came to terms with my sexuality. Like me, Peter partied hard and enjoyed every moment of his youth. His death brought home, just how fragile all our lives are. I have experienced more deaths personally, than I care to remember and all of them young, from that 90s Generation X. These were the people I was proud to call friends and their lights will always burn brightly in my heart and in the hearts of all who knew them.

If I am truly honest, it has been a hard fifty years getting here. I never realised just how difficult my life would be and in many respects I feel old and worn out. Sick and tired of the continual battles I have to fight, I just want the next chapter to be a little more relaxing, without the stress and anxiety I feel every day. At fifty years old I should be winding down, thinking about taking a step back, but today I am working harder than I ever have, making up for the years of self-indulgence and excess; I really only have myself to blame.

Birthdays inevitably signal a time of contemplation. This year I shall be looking back towards happier times, remembering past celebrations. My current melancholic mood isn't lifting anytime soon, so anything that puts a smile on my face will help me prepare for reaching fifty years of age. I am mindful of the challenges ahead as we pass the first year of the COVID pandemic and Darrell and I try to steer our marriage from opposite sides of the World. At fifty, I have many ambitions still to fulfil and a life to live, after being on hold for far too long. I hope to spend May 9th 2021 quietly at home with family, gracefully surpassing middle age and looking forward to a productive future. The last year or so has been perplexing and bewildering, but it has given me time to realise just what is important to me now - Family, close friends, my husband Darrell and the happiness wisdom and experience brings!

A few photos from past Birthdays!