I know I’m not unique in having to cope with drama, but I’m really starting to think it follows me around these days.

I write this from 40,000 ft high in the sky, somewhere over the Indian Ocean. Myself, Rich and Nate are on our way home to Cardiff after 2 wonderful weeks in Adelaide, Australia (where Rich is from). The reason we were there wasn’t a wonderful one unfortunately, my sensational mother-in-law died quite suddenly at the age of 93. Rich flew out immediately, and people questioned me as to whether I should fly out at all. Especially as I would be leaving the day after having treatment, and would be negotiating a 24 hour flight alone with a 2 year old. I understand people’s reservations, but there was no way on earth I was missing the celebration of Issy’s incredible life.

The drama began as soon as we checked in at Cardiff Airport. Somehow in the chaos of the week leading up, it had completely slipped my mind to check if our visas were still valid from our last trip out to Australia. They weren’t, which meant we weren’t allowed to fly. Cue hysterics! My best bet, the staff told me, was to apply immediately online to the Australian Department of Home Affairs for emergency visas. Sometimes (rarely) they came through in 10 minutes, more often than not they came through in a couple of days. That was it, I thought, I wasn’t going to make it in time for the funeral. I couldn’t believe it and felt desperately sad. I wanted so badly to be there to support Rich, god knows how much of a support he has been to me over the last 9 months.

I had also really geared myself up over the last week to travel solo with Nate. I had packed a very carefully thought through backpack of snacks and games to keep him occupied. I had filled half of our carry on with my medicines – steroids, oramorph, anti sickness, hydrocortisone injections for an emergency. You name it I had it. I’d worked hard at building myself up for this trip and now it wasn’t going to happen.

Everyone had boarded the plane. Check in had closed an hour ago. It was just me, Nate and my wonderful Dad (sorry Dad for all the drama, but also thank you for being the epitome of calm amidst my chaos) left in the empty departures hall. When the staff heard our story, they really couldn’t do enough. They genuinely felt sorry for me. Luckily for us, an old school friend was working behind the check in desk that morning, and was swiping our passports every 5 seconds to see if anything had come through from the Australian Government. I kid you not, with a minute to spare our visas were processed. The subsequent run through the airport can only be described as like something out of a movie! Just not as glamorous. Tear stained and sweating profusely, whilst trying to juggle a (heavy) toddler, a pram and a bag crammed full of needles – security didn’t really know what to do with me. 

None of that mattered though, when we stepped on to the plane and everybody cheered. Of course they had all witnessed my meltdown at the check in desk earlier, so felt part of the story. Most importantly, we were on our way. 

This has to be in two parts, for my own sanity as well as anyone reading…