So I’m in the last few days of isolation.

I don’t get asthma very often, and it’s unusual for it to be bad enough for me to require a puffer. In fact, my puffers had expired, so I’d thrown them out, while packing, and planned to get a new one before I left but I forgot.

There’s been a bit of smoke around, from burn offs, which had triggered the asthma yesterday morning and I didn’t have a puffer. I normally go medication-free (I can hear my nurse sister gnashing her teeth, as she reads this LOL) as much as possible but I was lightheaded and wheezy & felt a bit panicky, so I rang the wonderful Daniel who’s in charge here & asked if someone would mind grabbing a puffer for me. He got my card details and said they’d pick one up for me.

However, I got a call, not long after, to say that the pharmacy’s “out of stock”…WTF…of asthma medication? wow. That highlights what a burden I am on these small country towns, when I travel without being self sufficient. Long story short, I ended up speaking with the cops, about whether I could go to the local hospital to pick up a script for an alternative to the usual puffer. The answer was no, I can’t be allowed to leave my room, but the cop, without any sign of reluctance, stepped in to that role on my behalf and said he’d go and pick it up for me. He rang the hospital, got put through to a doctor, who I spoke with briefly, before the doctor agreed to prescribe the alternative puffer for me, which is in stock.

Interestingly, the doctor was openly resentful of my being in Norseman, when I’m from Perth, until I explained that my house is rented out, so I don’t have a house to return to. (Is it possible that not all people dream of being nomadic, like I do? I guess not.)

I gave this wonderful cop, my debit card, PIN number and my grateful thanks. By 4pm, the wheezy had stopped but I still didn’t have the puffer, because “the doctor hasn’t forwarded the script to the pharmacy yet”. I had complementary medicine with me, luckily, which helped.

Earlier, while the asthma was at its worst, outside my door were three cops dealing with the newest detainees – a young couple, foreigners, with long dreads, a gorgeous dog and a strong desire to argue about why the rules don’t apply to them. They are in the unit next to me. There has been lots of upset, raised voices, arguing and drama – it’s the most exciting thing that’s happened since the 4WD, towing a boat, drove through the car park, past my unit (….no, that’s all there was to that story…it drove through…I don’t know where it went, or who was driving it and I didn’t get to watch the reversing, which I’m still dog about).

I read, recently, that there are two types of people in the world – those who follow the rules and those who don’t. I reckon that’s probably true because you see non-compliant behaviour in toddlers, right through to the very old. It’s not like we all grow out of it. In trying to decide if I belonged to the former or latter group, I dithered, thinking that I’m a rule follower, which I am…usually. So, if I only follow rules “usually” that means I’m in the latter group. But I can’t think of a single person who isn’t in the latter group… and I wouldn’t want to live in a world where people don’t question the rules and rebel…even annoying, as it can be.

It’s been 24 hours since the asthma started playing up, but in the interim, I’ve learned a lot about how good people can be, when you need help. That cop, he didn’t forget me & my wheezy lungs. This morning he was back, to collect my debit card and PIN number, and not long after delivered my puffer, telling me it was “the last in stock”. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to him, for being the sort of person who does that for a stranger. Daniel has twice asked how I am, despite having a lot of folk to look after. He’s a gem. There are really good people in the world.

I will never leave the city without necessary medications, again, because I’m very conscious that I now have something that a local may need.

I can’t return to work,until the end of my LWP in January next year, as my position has been backfilled. Knowing this feels scary at the moment, but at the same time, there’s a sense of relief that A) I know my options (none at present LOL); and B) there’s only one direction available to me and that’s forwards, which is always more exciting than backwards.

Although my gut is churning now, I’ll get through this. There are many, many people facing the same thing, right at the moment. Some of them will be in far worse situations than me. So I’m going to let my gut adjust to the shock and then tomorrow, I’ll dive into some proactive stuff. I will have to start thinking outside the square.

One of the things that has been really nice today, was getting calls from people checking to make sure I’m okay. It was wonderful to hear friendly voices when I’m sitting here alone in my caravan. 🙂

I crossed the WA / SA border with 30 mins to spare (or so I thought!) only to discover, after two days free camping on the SA side of the border, that Ceduna had been decreed the new SA border… “even the police didn’t know,” I was told by Roadhouse staff. Okay.

So I’m holed up at the Nullarbor Roadhouse, effectively in no man’s land, stuck between two borders. To cross either of them, I need to be an ‘essential traveller’.

Corona virus…who would have believed, that a microscopically tiny living thing, could have the power to cancel travel plans for millions of people around the world, cause businesses to close, countless people to lose their jobs, economies to teeter on an unstable ledge and for people to behave like toilet paper is a life and death acquisition. Of all these things, the lack of kindness and community in people is the most disappointing for me. People, who would normally consider themselves as ‘nice’, have dropped their masks and are displaying aggressive and callous attitudes to others. I am not disputing the effects of the virus on immuno-compromised people but for the majority, this virus is survivable. Yet there are so many people acting as if strangers are an imminent threat to their lives. I never thought I’d see this behaviour in a country that is not at war. I feel disappointed in people for that. I may yet resign from the human race. Just saying… LOL.

NZ’s Jacinda Ahern is again proving what a world class leader she is, by rolling out a decisive plan to deal with the pandemic, while communicating in her trademark inclusive, clear and calm way, thereby giving people a sense that this pandemic will have an end, while again reminding us all to be, above all, kind to each other. I wish Australia had her leadership at our helm. Instead the bad news junkies are gleefully spreading misinformation, conflicting stories and rumours, catastrophizing and revelling in their sense of being relevant and feeling important. I got myself into a bit of a drama mode, from uncertainty and worry, from listening to it all. Then I remembered that I’m in charge of what I take into my brain (or at least should be). I decided to unfollow a few social media groups, because the majority of the messages were bad news junkies.

Since doing so, I feel much more peaceful. I’ve remembered that the people I love are all healthy and happy. I have shelter (albeit small), enough food and water, loads of reading material, internet connection, shower, toilet, power. My needs are all met. The roadhouse is an environment where I feel welcome but they have a sense of self containment and my leaving will not leave a hole.

There is so much to be grateful for.

The Nullarbor is a beautiful witch, despite the apparently lifeless, featureless, arid landscape – it bewitches you with its sense of acceptance, welcome and survival. The wind is a force to be respected…it’s relentless during the day. I put my washing line out and had to use two ties to anchor it to the caravan (and I had to hold on to it, as well), so I didn’t end up with my undies all over the Nullarbor. But I had the ties available to use, so it’s all good. No one will find my undies on the plains. The morning sunrises are worth getting out of bed early for. The coral, orange, gold and blue colours stretch wide across the flat horizon reminding me of the beauty that can be had for free in nature. It’s fleeting, so you have to be present though…another reminder. The nights are cold, so it’s a pleasure to snuggle into warm blankets, with the rumble and rattle of the passing roadtrains a surprisingly reassuring background sound. The night sky is immense overhead, liberally decorated with silver dots of twinkling light, reminding me that I’m a small part of creation, not the centre of it (that’s planned for the next life time.) It’s a very grounding place, is our Nullarbor.

There is a dingo, who frequents this Roadhouse. She’s beautiful. She has a sore paw, so I hope she survives. She trots companionably along beside the Roadhouse staff as they go about their business, just like a domestic dog, but when she meets your eyes, she does so as an equal, not a pet. When people, inevitably, feed her, she accepts the meal as graciously as if she has been served a meal in a restaurant. She utilises the resources available to her at the Roadhouse, on her own terms, without selling her soul. She epitomises courage, resourcefulness, dignity and adaptability. I admire her with every fibre of my being. To survive in this landscape, is one thing but to thrive, like she is, is amazing.

So having disconnected with all the scaremongers, I have spent today getting some additional funds organised to tide me over for a bit, I’ve sent out my CV and done some job hunting. I sent an email to work, to find out whether going back is an option, in case things get worse. I’ll hole up here for a few days. My intuition was to leave after one day here but I am finding it hard to follow it when it seems illogical as I have nothing to head to (I have a sense that this is disapproved of). I’m going to spend a little time breathing, centering myself and getting back to knowing what I need to do next. Logically, it would make sense to go back to my job (if that is an option), hunker down for the time being. But that seems like giving up at the first obstacle (though it’s a pretty big obstacle) so I’m just going to breath into it, see what my gut is telling me and go from there…ideally in trust.

Stay well everyone.

It’s moving day. I was up at 5am for the 6.30am scheduled arrival of the truck. I only got about 4 hrs sleep last night but was organised and it should’ve only taken a couple of hours, so shouldn’t have been a drama.

At 7am…still no truck…so I phone the driver, no reply so I leave a message. At 7.15am he rings me back, proclaiming to not having any record or details of the booking….omg… stress!

I have texts from him, confirming the date and time, which I send him to clarify the booking. Turns out, he’s overlooked my booking and he can’t get here. Eek!

I really hate the thought of being needy but I gotta say…talk about feeling needy when I found myself without a truck to move! I totally felt all alone and I definitely wanted someone to come rescue me (being on a white horse optional). But after sitting on the stairs shedding a few tears, no knight in shining armour on a white horse, appeared, so I pulled my big girl panties on and I’ve decided to just roll with it & see where I end up.

While the original driver is trying to fix the mix up the best he can, it occurs to me that I co-created this drama, by not contacting him to confirm details yesterday. It’s not my mistake, no, but it was easily avoidable by one text/phone call to confirm, something that I would do routinely in my working life. Why didn’t I confirm with him the day before…? Because I have a belief, that checking details, will make me come across, to him, as a drama queen or high maintenance or needy…who’s in drama queen mode now…ummm….me! Lol. One phone call/text! That’s all it would’ve taken! OMG!

Deep breath…one thing at a time. I’m still going, no matter what.

(But going forward, I’m confirming the shit out of arrangements!)

Last day of work today and much as I love my job and colleagues, today I just feel this joy in the feeling of freedom and adventure. It’s like coming home.

Last few weeks haven’t been like that. When I found out that I had a tenant I nearly burst into tears…I love my house. When I started packing I felt grief because I love my stuff. My son has just started uni and I felt grief that I won’t be here…does he need me? No. He’s happy, loved and a very capable guy and he’ll do fine without my presence.

Leaving, is a process that is painful but it doesn’t last forever and out the other side to the anticipation and excitement…

“If happiness is the goal, and it should be, then adventures should be top priority” – Richard Branson