Home work

This week I finished one of the house projects I needed specialist companies to do, and I made progress on another. This week’s project was arranged last week, before I knew I was having the procedure, and the other one was a quote that won’t be actioned until the New Year. The important part for both is that things are moving forward.

I’d often talked about putting ducted air conditioning in the house, which is basically a heat pump solution that cools in summer and warms in winter. Nigel and I had that when we lived on Auckland’s North Shore, and the house was comfortable year round. However, it’s also very expensive to install, and that became a factor for me.

Last month, I went to the Waikato Home and Garden Show, and one of the things I wanted to check out was companies doing whole-house ducted air conditioning. It turned out there were few options on show, and among them was a company called HRV that specialises in ventilation systems which now includes ducted air conditioning, among other products.

The problem I had was that the heating/cooling systems are very expensive—more than $16,000—and I just couldn’t justify spending that kind of money when I’m the only one living in this house. I knew that some Kiwis balked at ducted heating/cooling systems because of their belief that they’re horribly expensive to run (they’re not), and that fact could affect the resale value of the house, effectively costing me money twice. In any case, I doubt that many (any?) people would spend more to buy this house just because it was installed.

I initially rejected the idea of the simple ventilation system HRV sells because I didn’t see what value it would give me, since it didn’t heat or cool—it just moves air around. I’d already turned away the guy I spoke to at the show, then I got a call from a persistent person at HRV who really wanted me to set up an appointment with their guy who deals with this area. I agreed in the end, fully intending to tell him no, too.

Things turned out differently. He took measurements of the house and dampness levels (which weren’t bad at all), and he explained in detail how the system works, far more so than their brochure does. It eventually dawned on me that the simple ventilation system would accomplish the main thing I wanted, namely, to even out the temperature in the house.

I have a heat pump in the master bedroom and in the open-plan lounge/kitchen/dining, but the other two bedrooms and the hallway have nothing, and they get hot in summer and cold in winter. The HRV system will help that. Here’s their diagram of how it works:

Basically, a unit in the attic/roof space draws in air, filters it, and blows it into the house through ducts, relying on thermostats in the roof space and in the house. How it does that does that depends on the season: In summer, it’s off all day, then at night, when the temperature in the roof space drops, it pumps cooler air into the house, reducing the overall temperature inside to the pre-set level. In winter, it draws the warmer air in the roof space and pumps that warm air throughout the house, raising the average temperature.

It works this way because the roof space temperature is always high when the sun is shining, and it drops off dramatically when the sun sets (especially in winter, of course). Because the system has no heating or cooling function of its own, and just moves air around, it’s dramatically less expensive to run than any heat pump type system, and costs maybe a quarter the price to install. To me, this was a more affordable solution to what I wanted to accomplish—a more even temperature throughout the house.I was also aware that most Kiwis are familiar with the system, and some people actively want it. That means that installing it will be cost-neutral at resale, and it may even help, with speed of sale, and maybe even the price.

Modern houses tend to be well-sealed—plenty of insulation, tight fitting windows and doors, and double-glazing, all of which makes it difficult for the house to “breathe”, and that can trap moisture in the house. The company says their system gets around that problem by introducing filtered fresh, dry air, and I take their claim at face value. It certainly can’t hurt, regardless of whether the advantages are as good as they say. My main interest was always about evening the temperature.

I’ve been through two evenings so far, and the first one I was surprised at how “loud” it was sitting under the duct. “Loud” is a relative term, of course. In our old house, it only sounded like that when the fan was on high, and I think the sound might bother some people. But, this is yet another way in which I’m not like other people: I don’t mind the soft whirring sound at all. In fact, I think it’s kind of soothing.

In any case, the fan doesn’t run all that long—just until the house gets to the set temperature, and then it shuts off. It certainly wouldn’t have been loud enough to keep me awake (the heat pump in my bedroom is much louder), but it shut off well before I went to bed, anyway. However, I think it must’ve turned back on during both nights because my bedroom was nowhere near as stuffy as it had been in the mornings before installation. Another win, in my opinion.

So far, I’m happy with the system and the results I’m getting. We’re not into full-on summer yet, and it was installed months after the worst of winter, so I don’t have any way to really compare it to the before. Even so, my initial impression is that it will do what I wanted.

So, tick that one off the list. I’ll talk about other projects as they happen, of course, but it’s nice to get this one done before Christmas. On to the next projects!

The image of the ventilation system is from the company website and included for purposes of clarity. The Facebook ad, which shows the filtration, is notable mainly for its 2020 appropriateness. I was not paid or compensated in any way for this post, however, for the sake of transparency, I did receive a "show special" of an additional duct outlet at no additional charge, just as anyone who went the show would have.

Compare and contrasty

Sometimes it’s hard to avoid comparing and contrasting things, places, whatever. When we move to a new town, the comparisons are inevitable. Sometimes, though, those comparisons are about far more than mere place.

This morning I got my blood test results, and they were basically fine, which isn’t unusual. What was remarkable was how quickly I got the results—much faster than I ever got in Auckland.

Yesterday afternoon, I went to get blood tests that were needed before my medical procedure next week, and I finally also got some done that were ordered by the cardiologist I saw privately in mid October. That was a little before 2pm (which I know because I used the Covid Tracer App when I got there).

The email telling me the results were ready arrived at like 8:30 this morning. When I lived in Auckland, it always took two to three days to get test results, not mere hours. On Facebook, I speculated on why that might me:

This could be because the testing company used here in the Waikato is more efficient or even better than the one used in Auckland. Or, maybe it’s a smaller population and/or the fact I was in Hamilton, and not further afield. It could also be that the electronic reporting is faster here. And, of course, Auckland may be better now than it was when I had my last blood tests done with them in July.

It’s probably a blend of all those things. Testing in the Waikato is done by a company called Pathlab. According to its website’s “About” page:

Pathlab is a New Zealand owned and operated pathology service provider and has modelled our business on meeting the needs of our customers. We currently provide pathology services 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, servicing over 4,500 patients per day.

It was originally formed in Tauranga in 1958, and the company is now the result of various mergers.

In Auckland, lab tests are provided by an Australian-owned company called Labtests, owned by Melbourne, Australia-based Healthscope. The company took over pathology lab tests in Auckland when it made a lower bid that than the existing provider, Diagnostic Medlab, in 2008. The changeover might be called a disaster (I certainly did at the time), with the new company unable to deliver services quickly or efficiently, leading to the resignation of Labtest’s CEO the following year.

Diagnostic Medlab, meanwhile, mounted court challenges that ultimately failed, and in 2013 the company’s Australian parent company, Sonic Healthcare, announced that they were quitting Auckland the following year. They barely have a New Zealand presence at the moment.

I don’t have any way of knowing if Pathlab is quantifiably better (unlikely) or just more efficient (possible) than Labtests was, but what I do know is that the service I received was outstanding. And, if I’m truly honest, I feel better knowing that my tests were done by a New Zealand-owned company because I try, whenever I can, to buy products and services from New Zealand companies to help with our economy recover from Covid. I don’t have any choice in what company is used—the exclusive contracts are signed by the DHBs—so this is really just something that’s nice, not something that’s within my control [full disclosure: In 2008 I was on Medlab’s “side”, but when the changeover was complete I never had any complaint with Labtests services, which were always good; I just didn’t know the results could be delivered faster].

This awesome service—so much better than in Auckland—came just a day after I found out that dental services, specialist dental services in particular, are harder to get in Hamilton than they were in Auckland—or, at least, Auckland’s North Shore (I think, but don’t know for sure, that dental services are better in the wealthier parts of Auckland since such services aren’t part of our national healthcare system—yet—so practitioners may well go where the money is). Since yesterday I was implicitly comparing and contrasting dental services in the two cities, it’s only fair that I do the same with other medical services.

Ultimately, what I know for sure is that it was bloody fast (so to speak…) service, and I think that’s pretty great. Takes a worry off me, too, with the procedure only days away.

As for the tests themselves, everything was normal except for one thyroid measure that was high (caused by one of my prescriptions), and my clotting factors were abnormal (due to the blood thinner I’m on, of course). That second test allows them to know how much anti-clotting drug they’ll need to give me when they do the procedure (so it’s not too much or too little).

I share all this because it’s an example of something that’s definitely better here in Hamilton than what I experienced in Auckland, and also because I was really happy about it. Also, it’s always good to correct any impression I may inadvertently have created that healthcare services in Hamilton aren’t “as good” as in Auckland. In fact, the two are just different from each other, in both good and bad ways.

At any rate, I’m now one step closer to the procedure next week!

This is a revised and greatly extended version of something I posted to my personal Facebook earlier today.

Procedure change

It feels like I’ve been talking forever about the procedure that may/hopefully will fix my atrial fibrillation so I can have a more normal life. I’ve been aware of the procedure for a couple years, and keen to get it for around a year and half. So, yeah, practically forever.

This week there was yet another leap forward.

On Monday of this week I got a call from the DHB to tell me that they had an opening to get the procedure done, and it was Thursday, December 8. I rang them back to confirm, and it was all go fom there.

This quick change meant I needed to get some blood tests done, and because mail is only delivered three days a week now, they needed to email me a scan of the order. I got that yesterday.

I’d planned on getting the blood tests this morning before my dentist appointment today, but I ran out of time. I wanted to get that done before I wrote this post so the information could be as up to dat as possible. I did that this afternoon.

The nurse in the elective cardiology procedure department sent me a brochure/booklet on the procedure which reiterated what I already knew, while adding details I didn’t. Better still, it was clear and easy to understand (whoever the technical writer for that project was, they did an awesome job). The most important part for me is that it explained in some details of what to expect, including sensations I may feel. It also spelled out what I need to do after the procedure to look after myself, and what will happen afterward.

The important thing to know is that the risk of dying from the procedure is less than 1:1000, which is pretty good for something involving the heart. For comparison, the procedure is less likely to kill me than the chance a motorcyclist has of dying or the chances of dying from drowning, or dying in from fire or smoke (2018 data from the USA). The main risks are:

…stroke, pericardial tamponade (bleeding around the heart), narrowing of pulmonary veins, damage to the phrenic nerve, damage to the blood vessels in your groin, and a serious but rare risk of atrio-oesophageal fistula.

None of which, including death, is likely to happen. But, it could kill me, and I’m both clear about that and perfectly okay with wearing the risk, and for a number of reasons (a topic in itself). I was actually more interested in what happens during the procedure and afterward. The booklet explains it this way:

During the procedure you will receive fluids and any necessary medication through your IV line. You may be sedated for the procedure or alternatively your doctor may choose to anaesthetise you (‘put you to sleep’).

A local anaesthetic will be applied to the site where the ablation catheters will be inserted. In most cases the vein in your right groin is used.

In this procedure the doctor will put one or more sheaths into the vein in your groin so catheters can be inserted. The doctor then threads the catheter to the right atrium of the heart. Then he or she will cross the wall (septum) that separates the left and right sides of the heart. This provides access to the left atrium. You will receive anticoagulants (blood thinners) to help prevent clots during the procedure.

The Cryoballoon catheter enters the left atrium. The doctor inflates the balloon and moves it to the opening of the pulmonary vein. The goal is to close off the opening of the pulmonary vein completely, which temporarily stops the flow of blood between the vein and the atrium (this is called occlusion).

Once Occlusion is confirmed the doctor will introduce liquid refrigerant into the balloon. The refrigerant evaporates and removes heat from the heart tissue at the opening of the pulmonary vein where the balloon is in contact with it. As a result, the tissue is scarred and may no longer spread the electrical currents that cause atrial fibrillation. Each Freeze lasts between 3-4 minutes and at least two freezes are applied to each of the four pulmonary veins. There should be minimal or no discomfort during the process although sometimes you may experience an “ice-cream” headache. Also, during some necessary pacing manoeuvres, you may also experience a hiccup sensation. Neither of these are harmful and will stop quickly once the Cryoballoon has finished freezing the vein.

I’ll see the doctor six to 12 weeks after the procedure is completed, possibly after a 24-hour monitoring of my heart to see what what it’s doing. My medication will be reviewed at that appointment.

Between 20 and 30% of patients need another procedure, however, the cardiologist I saw in Auckland said the procedure is 87% effective, especially for people with my specific cause. Which suggests to me that I have really good odds of having it fixed in one attempt, but it still may not work that well.

Best-case scenario, the procedure will be a success, and sometime at or before early March they may change my prescriptions, and between those two things, I may get to have a more normal life. That’s the whole point of doing this, after all. As I’ve so often said, I’m too young to feel this old.

Worst-case scenario, I’ll die or have a stroke, or second-worst case, I’d need another procedure. I don’t take those risks and possible bad outcomes lightly, and I certainly can’t ignore them (this IS 2020 after all…). but I’m optimistic that things will go well. Besides, if I’m to have any shot at a normal life, this is vitally important, despite the risks.

It’s the possibility of getting my life back that excites me (weird to say I’m “excited” about a medical procedure, but there it is). I’m also nervous, of course, but having gone though a very similar sort of thing when they inserted my cardiac stent, I at least kind of know what it’ll feel like, which helps. A little.

And yet, I am scared—not about the procedure as much as I am about going through it without Nigel. He’d have been there with me every step of the way, including keeping me company during the four hours I have to lie there after the procedure is done. He’d have looked after me when he brought me home that afternoon, and for the week or two following the procedure. But he’s not here, and this is the most frightening thing I’ve faced since he died.

My family is organising to support me—to drive me to and from the hospital, and to stay here with me the night after the procedure. I’m incredibly lucky to have such an awesome family who will look after me since Nigel can’t. I know that, and I’m so deeply grateful to them. But I know they’ll understand when I say I’d much rather have Nigel here to help me and look after me. He was the source of my strength, and without him I feel like Superman in the presence of kryptonite.

Having this procedure, and having the family look after me in Nigel’s place, all means that I’ll have my first chance at a normal life since Nigel died, to truly begin to rebuild my life without him.

Risks? Yes. Worth the risks? Absolutely. I know that Nigel would think so, too.

New Tooth Tales

It’s been more than two years since I last published a Tooth Tales post, though I mentioned bits in pieces in other posts. But today opened a new chapter, so it’s worth talking about that all by itself.

Today I had my first appointment at my new dentist here in Hamilton, and it was really good (time was I’d never have said THAT about a dental appointment…). Everyone was really nice, and I noticed that the dentist didn’t push the most expensive solution, but, rather, the right solution that was often not the most expensive. I really like that.

This appointment was specifically motivated by some dental pain I had, something I talked about a couple weeks ago. That pain eventually went away, but I needed to see a dentist, anyway, so off I went.

The problem, I suspect is with the tooth that’s crowned. There’s a cavity so low that it can’t be fixed and filled, and the only option is extraction. I’ve known that was probable for a long time, so I wasn’t surprised. What was interesting is that he didn’t push me to have a very (very) expensive implant, but noted I could just leave it and have it put in later if I wanted it (I may have misunderstood, but it though my former periodontist was saying that I had to do it right away or not at all). In any event, there’s not rush for any of that.

I also learned that there’s one periodontist in Hamilton, and the wait time for an appointment is at least six months. I was pretty shocked to learn that. What they do to get around that bottleneck is to do more aggressive cleaning at the dental practice by the hygienist, who measures the pockets as well as doing deeper cleaning, like the periodontist did—but at a lower cost, of course. If there’s something too serious for the dental practice, they can always refer me to a specialist, however, I’ve long thought that a good dental hygienist can do much of the deep cleaning that a periodontist does—in fact, many years ago (probably some 18 years ago) that’s exactly what I had done.

The one sticking point is that the earliest I can see the dentist for the extraction is mid-January, and the hygienist on my birthday (!) a week and a half later (the next available appointment was in early February). I’m on a waiting list for both in case there’s a cancellation, which, apparently, happens all the time. So, I may actually see them for one or the other fairly soon, but the biggest barrier here is shutdown over the Christmas/New Year holidays, during which so much is closed for at least two weeks.

Aside from all that, my teeth are healthy and stable, and while a couple are a bit looser (because of the periodontal disease), they’re not at risk. I mainly need the same sort of regular cleaning and check-up as anyone else, though with some more intensive cleaning than most people get.

So, today’s experience was good, especially because of how nice everyone was—that makes a huge difference. And, while the specifics of my care will be different than in Auckland, the effect will ultimately be the same—and at a lower cost. All of which gives me something to smile about.

The image above is a reproduction from the 20th US edition of Gray's Anatomy, and is in the public domain. It is available from Wikimedia Commons.

A holiday in Queenstown

We all went on a (nearly) summer holiday: Over the past weekend, some family members and I went to Queenstown. It was the first time I’ve been away on a holiday in three years, and that was at roughly the same time of year. That was the last time that Nigel and I went on holiday, which could’ve made the trip feel weird, but it didn’t, really.

The trip came about kind of spur of the moment. My brother- and sister-in-law were planning on going, and talked me, another sister-in-law, and my mother-in-law into going, too. It was all booked before we really had time to think about it, which was probably a good thing.

The photo montage here has (most of) the photos I shared on my personal Facebook, only deleting photos of family because I don’t publish those on this blog (I created a Google Photos album with the photos in the montage, but at better sizes, some of them not cropped, and with individual captions). I also added a few I didn’t share on Facebook.

We left Auckland on Friday, November 27 and flew directly to Queenstown. It’s possible to fly there from Hamilton, but it requires at least one stopover, so flying direct from Auckland was far better.

The plane was pretty much full, partly because we’re not required to maintain physical distancing on planes, apart from queuing for the toilet on the plane, which was limited to no more than two people. However, we are required to wear facemasks, as did airline and airports workers. The flight was boring, but because I was seated with my mother-in-law in one of the first rows, I had ample legroom—a surprisingly large amount, actually.

When we arrived, we were surprised at how cold and biting the wind was when we got off the plane (there are no “sky bridges” at Queenstown airport, so passengers go down stairs to the tarmac). Also surprising was how quickly our suitcases got to baggage claim—I’ve never gotten my bags and left the baggage claim area so quickly after a flight.

Our next stop was a supermarket so we could pick up some supplies, especially for breakfasts and our dinner that night. Then, it was on to the house we were renting for our stay. The place, which was built into the side of a hill, as so many buildings are in the area, had four bedrooms. One Bedroom was on the ground floor with an en suite, and this one was for my mother-ion-law. Another with an ensuite was on the floor below, as well as two more bedrooms and a shared bathroom. The place had lovely views from the upper and lower balconies and was very comfortable.

The next morning, Saturday, we headed into town after breakfast. There was a market on at the shore of Lake Wakatipu, which was a lot of fun to wander around. Apparently, the sellers all have to make the stuff they sell—no bringing in stuff manufactured elsewhere. At any rate, it was clearly a very local market. We had a coffee there, then headed out to lunch.

We were having a four course degustation at a winery called Amisfield, not far out of Queenstown. It was awesome—even if I couldn’t try the paired wines (which is optional, anyway). All the dishes were small and perfectly made. We were there a few hours, and it was worth every second. I’ve never done that before, and seldom had such fancy dishes, but was so glad I did—and in such a pretty spot, too.

Sunday morning, some of us went back down to the lakeshore to wander around. We picked up my niece and her boyfriend to take her out for lunch, and then we all headed off to Arrowtown, an historic gold rush village that’s a relatively short drive from Queenstown. We had lunch at the New Orleans Hotel, which was built in 1866. It’s now a pub and cafe as well as offering accommodation. We had a really nice lunch and time together, however, that was when it really started getting warm—hot even.

After we got back, we went to a wine bar that was like nothing I’d ever seen. Essentially it was a self-service wine tasting system that dispensed wines from automated machines. They were lined up in a row, the bottles upside down to pour. Customers got a card that they inserted into the machine and the amount was added to their tab. I was fascinated by it all, but the experience was also somewhat wasted on me, since I don’t drink right now.

That night we went for dinner at a Japanese restaurant, Tanoshi Teppan Sake Bar, because we knew my mother-in-law was especially fond of Japanese food. It turned out to a sort of tapas style place, which worked well because it meant we could have several different things. The food was absolutely awesome, and the service was great.

That night was a quiet one, as we rested up from our busy couple days, and because we needed to have enough time to be out of the rental by 10am the next morning.

We ended up leaving before 10am on Monday, and headed off to Cromwell, a town roughly half way between Queenstown and Wanaka. The town was at the confluence of the Clutha River and Kawarau River, until the construction of the Clyde Dam ended up flooding the original riverfront, creating Lake Dunstan. The lake was filled just a few years before I arrived in New Zealand. The low, riverfront parts of town was moved to higher ground, and that included historic buildings that are now in the Cromwell Heritage Precinct, as well as elsewhere.

From there, the next stop was the Gibbston Valley Winery Restaurant for lunch. Once again, the food was awesome, and I thoroughly enjoyed it all. It, too, was in a scenic spot. And, incidentally, the Central Otago region is renowned for its wineries, some of which are tourism operators, too.

From there it was back to Queenstown airport and the trip home. The flight back was quite different: Only three rows further back, and I had no legroom, so I was uncomfortable almost the entire flight. On the other hand, baggage claim was as fast as in Queenstown, so points for that.

Queenstown is a lovely place year round, but I’ve only been there in warmer months, when the snow is only at the highest elevations. I’m told it’s absolutely magical in the snow—but I lived through 36 snowy winters, and I have no desire to do one ever again, even for a weekend. We were told that trading was much slower than usual for the businesses there, and it was far easier to get into restaurants—or even just to walk around—than it would normally be, which made it really nice for those of us who were there. It may not have been as busy as when the borders are open and foreigh tourists can visit, but there were a lot of Kiwis visiting, and it was really good to see out “team of 5 million” out seeing, and spending money in, New Zealand.

All in all, it was a wonderful weekend, and I’m glad my brother- and sister-in-law bullied talked me into going. I had such a good time with them, and a very relaxing weekend. One of my nieces staid at my house and looked after the dogs, so it was the first time I wasn’t constantly watching Sunny (though I still worried about her, anyway, of course).

It was weird being there without Nigel, as so many things still are, and yet he and I never went there together, so I didn’t “see” him anywhere that we went. Instead, I just imagined what he’d say, the jokes he’d make, that sort of thing—and that was more than enough to make me miss him. On the flight down, the window seat was empty, and someone said that the seat was for Nigel—but the joke there was that he hated window seats and would’ve preferred the aisle, where I was sitting. It was similar on the flight back to Auckland (and that let me extend my legs into that seat’s space, which helped a little).

So, I had a good holiday, and it was lovely spending time travelling with the family. I missed Nigel, but, then, I always do, and that had little to do with the trip itself. I’ll do more travelling in the future—just not for a little while.

All the places I mentioned by name are places where I paid the normal retail prices: None of the named businesses gave me any discounts, promotions, or compensation of any kind for mentioning them. These are my honest, sincerely held opinions.

Four New Zealand 2020 Christmas ads

Every year there are all sorts of TV ads for Christmas, and this year is no different—except this year is very different, of course. We’re extremely lucky in New Zealand that we’ll basically have a normal Christmas (assuming anything doesn’t go wrong, which could happen—it IS 2020, after all…). Here are four New Zealand TV ads new for this year.

The ad up top, “A Whiteware Christmas”, is the long version of an ad from a New Zealand retailer of whiteware and smaller electronic items. Smith City. The YouTube description sums up the ad: “Dom's got a big surprise for Kate this Christmas. See how it goes down, in our honest festive tale.” The storyline isn’t particularly new—mistaken assumptions are a staple of situation comedies. And it’s entirely possible some people may take offence at the depiction of the woman being offended for all women, even though one could argue that’s a very contemporary thing. For me, the reason this ad works is the quality of the acting, and that it just barely promotes what the retailer sells. When I first saw the ad, I thought it must be about something else entirely, maybe even one about family violence or something. The fact that the ad was so unusual is another thing about it that resonated with me.

An ad for New Zealand discount retail chain The Warehouse also takes a lower-key approach to selling:



This is a cute ad, and it also promotes the idea that small gifts can mean a lot—maybe even the most. The ad still promotes buying something from the store, though something small, but in a year in which many people are still shaken by the effects of the Covid lockdown (financial effects included), this is a particularly good message. The storyline isn’t particularly original, but maybe it’s all the more effective because it isn’t.

Next up, a bank that doesn’t want people to spend money:



This ad is the long version of an ad for New Zealand-based (Australian-owned) bank, BNZ, and I didn’t realise what it was about until the very end. It’s a bit like the ad up top in that the acting of the female lead is really good.

Finally, an ad for New World, a New Zealand-owned supermarket chain (one of two supermarket companies in New Zealand; the other is Australian-owned):



This ad is unique to 2020, which, as the ad’s narrator says at the beginning, has been “kinda weird”. The ad shows some of the ways it was weird, and then pivots to building on that experience because, as the ad says at the end, “one thing we all deserve this year is a cracking good Christmas.”

Indeed.

If this was a normal year, Christmas ads would be promoting buying stuff, and there’d be a lot of them. But, this is 2020: Everything’s different, and so far, this year's ads reflect that (last year's ads for NZ Post are also running this year, and fit right in).

We get a few international ads, and they try to sell stuff, as have a few New Zealand ads. These four stood out for me not just because they’re among the first that have begun airing (the one from The Warehouse was the first one I saw this year), but also because of they have a gentler approach to selling stuff than we typically see. Maybe there will be more TV ads as we get closer to Christmas.

In any case, the season has Christmas season has definitely begun, even a year that’s been “kinda weird”.

Backward to go forward

There are times when the smartest thing we can do is run up the white flag and accept defeat. When we do, we can plan a new way forward, but sometimes that can mean, at least technically, moving backward. Today was one of those days.

Last month I started on a new prescription, and on October 31, just one week later, I could already tell it wasn’t going well. I wrote:

I said last week that the cardiologist gave me a new prescription for a drug to help control my heart rate (Felodipine), which he prescribed in the hope that it wouldn’t make me as tired as the one I’ve been on (Diltiazem). So far, it hasn’t turned out like that.

The drug has left me feeling more tired than I felt under the old drug. Another side effect I felt was pain in the muscles of my arms, legs, and back, any of which might feel very sore, as if from heavy overuse, when I did any sort of physical activity—even washing the dishes at the kitchen sink. This all came together Thursday when I tried to vacuum the house, and only got part way through the open-plan lounge, kitchen, dining area, and my upper arms ached terribly, plus I was utterly exhausted. I had to sit down for around a half hour to recover.

The most uncomfortable thing, though, is that it’s given me palpitations, another side effect, which made me feel like I was having a panic attack. Very unpleasant.

It’s been nearly four weeks now, and today I gave up: I asked my doctor to put me back on Diltiazem. I just couldn’t stand how completely awful I felt, even though some things had changed. On balance, it was still truly awful.

The muscle aches went away after maybe another week, but the profound fatigue continued. The palpitations eased, but that only made me more aware of what I believe was angina, which is what it felt like; I hadn’t experienced since before my stent.

What I didn’t mention in that post at the end of last month was what I call the “brain fog” I was experiencing: Inability to concentrate, inability to focus, and huge problems with my short-short term memory. Add it all up, and it as just like being on beta blockers again—and it was the reason I just haven’t felt like blogging in recent weeks, just like when I was on beta blockers.

I don’t actually think there’s anything wrong with Felodipine as a drug—I took it a few years ago with no problems. However, back then it was the only drug I was taking, whereas now my blood is a chemical soup of prescriptions. Most drug interactions are known and documented, but we’re all individuals, and our own experiences can differ from the norm in all sorts of unexpected ways. I’m Exhibit A of that fact.

In addition to all this fun, I also have a tooth problem: It’s the same one I first mentioned way back in July of 2018. The periodontist asked about it again in September 2018, and maybe again after that (I can’t be sure because I stopped documenting Tooth Tales that September. Eight months later, I was due to see the periodontist for treatment and ended up in hospital instead (I’d also seen the periodontist for a checkup on April 15, which I also didn’t document, and the treatment I missed was meant to be four weeks later).

So, it’s not like I didn’t know that sooner or later I’d need it dealt to. But, well, things happened in 2019 and this year, too, and I never got to it. This week, it started hurting—not constantly, but when it does it’s rather unpleasant. I don’t have a dentist in Hamilton, and that meant it would be two weeks before I could see one (existing patients understandably take priority). But two weeks is a long time to wait, even without pain. So, I asked my doctor what I could take aside form paracetamol, which is one of the few painkillers I can take. He prescribed codeine, which I may not even need, but if things get somewhat worse, I have back-up pain relief (and if it gets really bad, I’ll have to pay a lot to go to the emergency dentist; we’ll see).

The tooth thing is partly my fault—I should have dealt with it way back when I was first told about it, but it wasn’t bothering me at the time, at all, and I went through a lot after that. Those may be excuses, but they’re also actual reasons.

The prescription, on the other had, I dealt to as soon as I was sure it wasn’t going to get better. After all, the old regime was working well, and the change was only about making me feel better. Now that I’m switching back, I will feel better. Weirdly enough.

Sometimes, the smartest thing we can do is accept defeat. When we do, we can plan a new way forward. Today was one of those days.

Important note: This is about my own personal health journey. My experiences are my own, and shouldn’t be taken as indicative for anyone else. Similarly, other people may have completely different reactions to the same medications I take—better or worse. I share my experiences because others may have the same or similar experiences, and I want them to know that they’re not alone. But, as always, discuss your situation and how you’re feeling openly, honestly, and clearly with your own doctor, and always feel free to seek a second opinion from another doctor.

Political Notebook – Two big elections

Try as I might, I just couldn’t be bothered blogging about the two big elections I recently went through. Naturally, I had stuff to say, but nothing I cared about enough to actually write about. Part of that was was caused by the effects of my prescriptions, but I think I was also just plain worn down, especially by the past 13+ months, but also the three years-ish before that. Still, I noticed stuff, and a Political Notebook post is the simplest way to share some of that.

I really only published one expressly partisan political post just before the US election, and also one about voting in the US election. Apart from that, I haven’t really said anything since before Nigel died. All together, prior to today I published 53 posts about the US elections.

Up until today, I’d published 19 posts about the NZ election, and a large number of them were general in nature. Only a few posts were partisan in focus. I also had one about voting in the New Zealand election.

I think that I’d have had a lot more to say about both countries’ elections if Nigel hadn’t died. I can’t be sure, of course, but at the very least, I’d have been more motivated. Fortunately plenty of other people have written about stuff so I didn’t have to.

The USA’s elections

We all knew that the US election was going to be a mess, no matter what happened. What happened was all that and so much worse. The graphic above demonstrates how wide Joe Biden’s victory margin really was, though, of course, that’s irrelevant: The only thing that matters is getting enough votes in just the right states. Of course, Joe Biden did that, too.

As the result of again losing one single Electoral College Vote in Nebraska to the Democratic Candidate, the state’s Republicans are again determined to make the state “winner takes all” to ensure they all go to the Republican candidate. Of course.

Hypocritical electoral antics are one of the many reasons “The crisis isn’t Trump. It’s the Republican Party.” As Vox's Ezra Klein’s interview of Anne Applebaum points out. Which makes Marco Rubio’s opinion that his party “must rebrand as party of 'multiethnic, multiracial, working-class' voters” all the more laughable. Now, if Rubio had pledged to end his party’s reliance on disinformation, that would be a start (See: “Americans Were Primed To Believe” in FiveThirtyEight).

So, where to for Republicans? A better question might be what can Democrats do for disaffected Republicans? Before the election, long-time Republican strategist Stuart Stevens wrote “A Message to Democrats from Your New Ally: Victory is near”. At the same time, it’s often been pointed out that Democrats need to learn to speak to non-Trumpian Republicans. Published in NZ’s Stuff, Lana Hart suggests “Midwestern oddities help explain voting patterns”. She has a point, even if some of how she got there is arguable. This of course puts aside the question of whether it might be viable for Democrats to move Left, but that’s too big a topic for a links post. Maybe another day.

On the positive side, there were more women elected to Congress. Writing for FiveThirtyEight, Meredith Conroy talks about “How A Record Number Of Republican Women Will — And Won’t — Change Congress”. The short version: It’s not enough to really change things, either for the Republican Party or the politics of Congress.

New Zealand’s Election

By anyone’s reckoning, New Zealand’s election was huge and decisive. 82.2% of enrolled voters cast ballots (and 94.1% of eligible voters were enrolled by the day before the election; voter enrollment is compulsory). Of those votes, 68% were cast in advance (before Election Day).

The New Zealand Labour Party (full disclosure: I’m a member of the party) received 50% of the Party Vote, entitling it to 65 seats in the new Parliament (out of 120). This is the first time since MMP elections began in 1996 that a party has received enough votes to govern alone, and it was the largest intake of new MPs the party has seen since the First Labour Government was elected in 1935. The new Labour Party Caucus is also its first to be majority female. Overall, the new Parliament is the most diverse New Zealand has had. Among other things, thanks to the election, "NZ Parliament most rainbow in world".

Naturally, it wasn’t all clear sailing. Rightwingers were up to mischief, as they so often are. Some Australian lobbyists for the energy industry slandered NZ Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern, in part because she pledged to take action on climate change (an example they’re clearly afraid Australia will follow).

There was also a nonsense theory that the election wasn’t really an overwhelming vote of approval for Jacinda Ardern’s Labour Government; instead, it was conservative “National Party voters voting for Labour as a way to keep the Green Party out of government. There’s no evidence of that, and a far more likely explanation is that it was just an overwhelming vote of approval for Jacinda Ardern’s Labour Government. Personally, I think any National voters who voted Labour—or, more likely, for the libertarian-ish far right Act Party, which got its highest vote in many, many years—did so because of how extremely unpopular National’s leader Judith Collins is. I know I’m not the only one who thinks that, either. We’ll eventually have more data about that later on.

A newly elected Green Party MP, Ricardo Menéndez March, who is the first Mexican immigrant to be elected to Parliament, was the target of abuse because of a sarcastic Tweet he made about having to take an oath of allegiance to the Queen. Now, full disclosure, I’ve always liked him, even when I’ve disagreed with him, because of his endearing politics nerdiness (takes one to know one), and it’s nice that he’s also openly gay. However, the main reason I back him on this is because there’s nothing wrong with sarcasm, even about a stupid oath. Besides, I’ve long been critical of the oath used precisely because it requires an oath of affirmation of allegiance to the Queen, not the people of New Zealand. The oath needs to change, no matter what the mouth-breathers choose to think.

Finally, there was one weird thing about the New Zealand Election, delivered courtesy of Facebook. When I shared the NZ Labour graphic above celebrating the new government being sworn in, Facebook inserted one of its standard links to election information—about the US election results. This is a company that has no problem serving up ads for things I’ve searched for online or mentioned in a FB comment (or even spoken about out loud…), yet it can’t tell the difference between something about the US election and that of another country. No wonder they have so much trouble stopping disinformation and hate speech. Maybe I’ll talk about politics more now. Maybe not. But at least I now have these things off my list.

That, and the NZ election shows how well a democracy's elections can be.

Saturday breezes

It’s Saturday afternoon, and I’m sitting in my chair, the stacker doors wide open, strong breezes blowing through them, making the curtains billow and fly. I could restrain them—I bought the holdbacks to do that, but I can never seem to finish that project. I could even use the ribbons I salvaged from a blanket I bought—long, black, fabric ribbons with velcro at the ends. They’ll do the trick until I can finish the project.

I’m not watching TV from my chair, and I’m not perusing the world from my iPad. Instead, I’m reading a book I added to my Kindle months ago, one I can just never seem to finish. I have a lot of books just like that one—never finished, or, sometimes, never begun.

I put my book down and listen as the breeze surrounds me and makes the curtain fly into the back of my chair. There’s the “click, click, slide, click” of the curtains dancing on their tracks, the closest sound to me, but I don’t even notice it at first.

Instead, I hear some indistinct music playing somewhere in the distance, and while I can’t be sure, I know it’s some sort of pop music. It’s the rhythm track I hear most, and it betrays the nature of the whole.

Closer to me, I can hear neighbours calling to each other as they do Saturday projects around their house, and I wonder if they’ll finish them. Somewhere, maybe there, too, some children laugh and play and talk with each other in that far too loud voice children use when they’re excited. They sound happy.

Birds are singing everywhere, near me and farther away. When the breeze blows just right, I hear a truck or motorcycle, or the soft whispery whoosh of tyres on asphalt on the busy road that’s not usually close enough to hear, not unless the wind or the night closes the distance between us.

I close my eyes. I think about having a nap, and I listen. The inventory I’m making in my head, I realise, is something I should share. Because even though my life is still suspended, there are moments just like this, free of pain, of grief, or even the heavy obligation to deal with all the “toys” Nigel left behind. He’d be disappointed with himself that he wasn’t able to deal to those for me, and sad that I have to. It was just something he never finished—because he never got the chance.

I get up from my chair, go to my computer and turn it on. I sit down to write. I think about how I told Nigel it was the only thing I’d ever wanted to do, and yet, I don’t do it. Not really. There’s so much to finish.

I finish my cup of coffee.

And then, I begin.

Showing up

Today I went to the Waikato Home and Garden Show, which is about stuff for one’s house and garden. Surprise! I was hoping to see vendors of various things I need for projects to finish my house, and maybe to get the opportunity for “show special” prices. In the end, it was mainly just a fun day out.

I went with my cousin-in-law and a sister-in-law, and once there we met up with my brother-in-law and sister-in-law, and we all had lunch together before heading our separate ways again. It was fun to spend time together, as always, but I think all of us were somewhat underwhelmed by the show for whatever reason. I certainly was.

I’d hoped to be able to talk to varieties of companies, but, for example, there was one company that does ducted air conditioning (among other types), and one that’s primarily known for a heat exchanger system that uses air from the attic space to warm and dry the house. And that’s it. There were a couple that did conventional split unit heat pumps, but they didn’t appear to do ducted systems and, in any case, I’ve never heard of them.

Repeat that same thing in every other category I was interested in: Maybe one or two stands, but not ones from the several companies I was hoping for. However, there were also a couple that I would’ve talked to, but they were either busy talking to people, or else talking to each other (I saw that in several booths).

The oddest thing of all was you could scan your ticket to go into the draw for a prize, but I never actually saw a booth for the company—though it’s possible I missed it.

On the other hand, I was able to see in person the garden shed at the top of my list, and I was suitably impressed. I’m 99% certain I’m going to proceed with them, which I’ll talk about more when/if it happens.

What this all means is that while I was disappointed there weren’t more vendors I wanted to talk to, and there were more products and product categories I wanted to see, it was nevertheless useful for me. The garden sheds, and even the cooling/ventilation systems, even though those are probably only a start, and even a supplier of window screens for my sort of windows—all of those things made the show worthwhile, and I’m glad I went. Plus, as I said, it was fun to go with family, especially to bounce ideas off of.

Family members told me that the show was considerably smaller this year than it has been. I have no frame of reference, so I have no idea, but I know that it was delayed to Covid, so I’m wondering if maybe some exhibitors hedged their bets that either the event would be called off, or that fewer people would actually go.

Still, even though I was somewhat underwhelmed, and certainly didn’t get as much information or see as many supplier options as I’d hoped, I nevertheless did see some, and that mattered—even if only to eliminate them. My overall reaction is that I’d go again next year.

Another thing for me is that at least we were able to have a show like this at all, unlike so many other countries that either have lockdowns or raging surges in Covid cases. We’re so lucky to be living here in New Zealand, where we have a relatively normal life, and it makes me feel quite churlish in saying I was underwhelmed. Still, honesty, and all that.

I like going to shows like that, and have pretty much my whole adult life. Any chance I get to go to one is a good day, even if I don’t see everything everything on my list. Sometimes just having the opportunity is everything.

Hidden realities

View this post on Instagram

Got my baby back from the car doctor this morning. It’s been away for two weeks for repairs after my accident. It’s so pretty! In all seriousness, this is the first time I’ve ever missed a car—I think I might sleep in it tonight! Nah, it’d be too tight with the furbabies, and we can’t be separated! I stopped to get them more food on the way home, which is where this photo was taken.🙂

A post shared by arthur_amerinz (@arthur_amerinz) on Nov 4, 2020 at 12:13pm PST

The caption to the Instagram photo above tells two stories. The first, what I was doing, but also why. The latter one I never mentioned before, and it was a kind of a test.

The first story is that a few weeks ago I was in a minor accident in which some guy hit the passenger side door of my car at low speed. My insurance company sent me to a particular panelbeater to get it repaired, and they told me it could be several weeks while the sourced the needed parts: Due to Covid, factories around the world were operating at a fraction of capacity, and then shipping was another problem. It would be faster if they found one easily.

I ended up bringing it in the following week, and two weeks later, today, I got it back looking good as new. They’s also detailed it inside and out, so it looked brand new.

I was really happy to be getting my car back. The loaner car was a 2005 Nissan Tiida, which, I said at the time, “smells like ArmourAll, age, and shame”. The latter refers to the fact that it’s kind of embarrassing to be driving a car like that, knowing it’s because my own car is dented. So, I took to calling the loaner “The Shamemobile”.

In fact, though, driving my own car with the damage on it was more embarrassing because I imagined people judging me. I thought that because I realised for the first time that when I see other people driving dented cars my natural instinct is to assume it was their fault, when it obviously may not be. So, I learned something.

As it happens, in the time between when the car was assessed and I took it in for repairs, I took the car to the dealer for it’s 10,000km service and, among other things, they cleaned up the damage, removing the surface scrapes (but leaving the dent, obviously). It looked so much better after that—barely shameful at all.

I was so excited because I realised that I missed it for its better ride and performance, but especially for all the features I’ve joked about many times to people who know me in real life: The advanced safety features, cruise control, reversing camera, and Apple Car Play, none of which were in The Shamemobile (my own car has a 5 Star Safety Rating, while The Shamemobile is only a 3). Thing is, I never had any of that stuff until this car, so the fact I was already so used to them, and that I missed them so much, really surprised me.

However, the other story is the explanation I included in the caption: “It’s been away for two weeks for repairs after my accident.” I’d never mentioned that fact before then, except to some family members, but not all of even them. At first I was probably a bit embarrassed, and maybe a bit shaken by the experience, but the more time passed, the more awkward it felt to mention it. The caption solved that, and explained why I had the car back to be excited by that fact.

However, there was a backstory even to that: It occurred to me during reporting on the USA’s election disaster that people—and not all of them American—were so distracted by that event that they missed all sorts of things going on with people they know well. Of course, most of the stuff they missed out on was stuff they wouldn’t know about if they weren’t told, and my small accident was one of those things. But, I wondered, how many other things had they simply missed, even when it was right in front of them?

So, I slipped in that little sentence to see if people were too distracted to notice. Honestly, I thought it was possible no one would, but my sister saw the post on Facebook and was the first to ask about it, which is no surprise; she’s good like that. However, if I hadn’t said it, no one would know, and no one would’ve thought to ask questions to find out what was going on with me or anyone else, such was their level of distraction.

I include myself in that: I was too distracted by elections in two countries, plus my grief journey, to pay much attention to others, either. This makes me think that we need better mechanisms to prompt ourselves to ask about the people we know, friends and family in particular.

Some of what we need to do is well covered, like making it safe for people to talk openly with us about their struggles and challenges, even if only so they know they’re not alone. Many of us don’t do that, of course, and we certainly don’t usually proactively ask people how they’re doing. It’s probably just human nature, and I think we need to change that.

My accident wasn’t a big deal, but it did teach me to stop making assumptions, at least about people driving cars with dents. It also reminded me, yet again, that we need to be upfront and open as we feel we can be about what we’re going through. It may or may not make us feel better to do that, but it could make others feel more comfortable in talking about what they’re going though.

Yes, of course. But I’ll freely admit that I’m shallow enough to be excited and happy to get my car back. Because that was the whole reason I made the post in the first place; the social experiment just came along for the ride.

Above left: The Shamemobile. Above right: The damage immediately after the accident. The dealer managed to remove the white scrapes, which were only superficial.

The test

Today (Tuesday in the USA) is Election Day. Will the country’s four-year nightmare end? Will it return to kindness and compassion? Is there a future for the USA’s democracy? Or, will it all come crashing down as the USA is destroyed? No one knows. No one.

The video above sums up why I support Joe Biden. Sure, there was no way that the Republican candidate could ever have gotten my support—my disdain for him is decades old. But after the utter, complete, and total disaster that the past four years have been, I went out of my way to vote this year, even though Illinois is thoroughly Blue, so, in that sense, it didn’t matter. But I needed to add my voice to the millions rejecting the corruption, lies, and creeping authoritarianism of the current regime, because lives really do—and literally—depend on it.

I know some people don’t like Joe Biden, for whatever reason. I know that that for Democrats it’s often because he isn’t Left enough. Some Centre-Right people may hesitate because they think he's too Left. I couldn’t possibly care less about any of that.

The truth is, we’re electing a president, not a saint. We’re electing a human, not a demigod. Which means there’s no such thing as a “perfect” candidate or president, and there never will be. Elections are choices only ever between who’s actually on the ballot, fullstop. The mythical “perfect” candidate isn’t in the mix, nor is someone’s idea of a “better” candidate. It’s always that way in a two-party system.

I voted for Joe Biden, not just against the Republican candidate. As I’ve said many times before, there have been plenty of times I was actually voting against a candidate—even here in New Zealand. Not this year, and not in either country’s election. There’s too much at stake.

Today the New Zealand Herald published an article about two Americans living in New Zealand. I know the Democrat through Facebook, and today I’ll meet her in person for the first time when I stop in at an election event here in Hamilton. That much I AM looking forward to, even though the election itself terrifies me.

However, I noticed something odd in that article, something aside from the fact that the supporter of the Republican candidate didn’t want to be named, although I think that’s telling. It was the glaring illogic of what he said.

He claimed his candidate would have “quite a decisive win” because “traditionally the Democrats vote by mail and the Republicans vote on the day." Logically, of course, the winner would be whoever gets the most votes, no matter if they’re cast by mail or in person. He goes on to absurdly say that “because the Democrats don't have a huge lead over Trump right now, once the voting day comes in, all those Trump voters go and vote on that day. That's just going to propel him right ahead.”

That’s just plain stupid, even by the logic of his own reckons. There’s been massive voter turnout already, and in many places votes cast reached two-thirds of the total votes cast in 2016 well before Election Day (and that no doubt includes plenty of Republican votes). Overall, Democrats begin with more voters than Republicans have, and the Republican candidate has been nothing but unpopular during his entire time occupying the White House. But somehow Republicans’ Election Day votes are supposed to magically change everything? Seriously? So, what’s he on about?

He’s just following his leader.

For months and months the Republican candidate has been attacking the US election process, and mail voting in particular—never mind that’s how HE votes! Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. More recently, he’s been demanding that the winner be whoever is leading on Election Day, even though that’s never happened in US history. There are reasons for all that.

The Republican candidate knows that, in fact, Democrats do tend to vote early, often by mail, and that in many states some or all of those votes won’t be counted on Election Day. He also knows that most Republicans do tend to vote on Election Day (we’ll see if that’s still true in the middle of a pandemic).

The Republican candidate knows that because of all this, he may very well have a narrow lead on election night, so he’ll declare “victory” and then he’ll send in his “army of lawyers”, as he put it, to try to prevent any votes being counted after Election Day. He knows that the Republican Supreme Court will rule in his favour—he said he’s depending on them. In that way, the Republicans could steal the election.

THAT is what the anonymous Republican in the article was alluding to, whether he knew it or not, and it’s what the Republican candidate has been promising for months: If they can’t win the election, if they can’t get more votes than Joe Biden, then they’ll steal it. Hopefully, the US republic still has enough strength in it to fight off such an attack against democracy itself, or maybe Biden will win by a big enough margin to put it out of reach of the Republican candidate’s “army of lawyers”.

In any case, we may well not know the end of the story for days or even weeks, but one way or another it’ll be done by early January.

The only way to change anything is to vote the Republican out of office, and the only way to do that is to vote for Joe Biden. In my case, it was definitely a vote FOR Joe every bit as much as it was a vote for change, but that doesn’t really matter. The only thing that matters is getting that man out. Democracy absolutely can do that—if it survives this test.

This post is based on, and synthesised from, various comments I made on Facebook over the past 24 hours.

This is the 5000th published post on this blog.

Twenty-five years later

25 years ago today, I arrived in New Zealand to begin my life with Nigel. Because this day was the real start of “us”, we always saw it as our anniversary, and even though we added other notable dates over the years, this always remained The Big One. How could it not? November 2, 1995 was the day that “we” finally began.

There’s no two ways about it: This is no longer as happy a day as it once was. It never, ever occurred to me that Nigel wouldn’t be here to celebrate our 25th year. November 2 was always our thing, and my thing, and it was about us, while also being about me. Now it’s only my thing, and only about me.

I was keenly aware of our approaching 25th anniversary, and I wanted to celebrate it. Part of that was because I realised that November 2 was the only one of our anniversaries where we might get to see a 50th: I was 36 in 1995 (Nigel was 31), but I was 50 when we had our Civil Union (he was 44), and 54 when we were married (he was 49). Besides, it was our main anniversary, anyway.

So, in late 2018 I started thinking about what we could do to celebrate. Nigel and I talked about it a bit, and we thought we might go to Hawaii, a place neither of us had ever been. We never finalised any plans (and, as it happens, going there would have been impossible because of Covid), and we never got any farther talking about it, either.

In early 2019, I thought about asking my FB friends for suggestions, but there was my birthday in January, then I was in hospital in May, and then, well there was just ordinary life—until our life together ended. Nigel lived to see the 24th anniversary of when I arrived in New Zealand as a tourist, and we met in person for the first time, which was kind of like the introduction in the story of our life together. Eight days after that anniversary, he was gone.

A series of fateful events led us to find each other and brought me to New Zealand, and now I’m still here, 25 years later, but all alone. Fate intervened in a different and terrible way than we’d ever anticipated, so I never thought I’d be here at this 25th anniversary all alone. However, there was never any doubt I’d still be in New Zealand at this 25th anniversary, no matter what. As I wrote shortly after Nigel died:

Nigel—who you may have noticed said a lot of insightful things in his final weeks—asked me if I’d go back the USA, and I said no. "Good!", he said. He then added, “To be honest, and I don’t mean this in a negative way, but I think you make a much better Kiwi than you do an American.” I think he’s right. I didn’t ask him why he thought that, but I have a pretty good idea what he meant, or part of the reason he said it, anyway.

And that’s the crux of it: While I came to New Zealand to be with Nigel and to begin our life together, New Zealand and I grew together and intertwined as much as Nigel and I had. This country is now as much a part of my being as Nigel was, and even though the links were different, the important thing is that ripping me out of New Zealand would be the same as ripping Nigel away from me. I’ve survived the loss of Nigel so far, but I doubt I could survive losing New Zealand, too.

This is one of Nigel’s many gifts to me. First and foremost, there was the love and life we shared for 24 years, but next, and in a distant, lower place on the list, there’s my connection to New Zealand, something that I got through him and because of him. That never would’ve happened if Nigel and I had never met or built a life together.

That shared love that warmed me for 24 wonderful years still warms me, despite everything, a year after Nigel’s death. That’s why this anniversary, even though it’s sad because of all I’ve lost, is actually still happy: I loved and was loved, and I began a new life in a country I love, and all of that officially began 25 years ago today.

I think I always knew that reality, but maybe I just understand it better now. In 2018, the last November 2 anniversary that we celebrated together, I wrote:

So, while this date has always been significant for multiple reasons—including for this blog—it’s the personal aspects of it that matter the most. I can’t see that ever changing.

I was right: It hasn’t changed. I desperately miss Nigel and I’m fucking angry that he’s not here with me for this 25th anniversary, but he’s not and I can’t change that. While it’s true that this anniversary was always our thing and it was about us, it’s also only because it was our thing and about us that it can still be my thing, and only about me. That’s not quite the happy thing it was, but in important ways it still is happy. And always will be.

This day carries sadness, but also something else: A profound gratitude for the 24 wonderful years I had with Nigel, and the now 25 year life in Aotearoa New Zealand, something I gained because I loved Nigel and he loved me. I think that the risk I took—that we took—25 years ago was worth it, despite everything. We both took an absolutely giant leap of faith in 1995, and I’m so glad and fortunate that we did. As I said back in 2009, “Don’t assume that your dreams won’t come true, because you may be only one day away from the start of it all.”

I now understand that I’m still only one day away. Thank you, Nigel—and happy anniversary, sweetheart!

Previously:

Twenty four Years (2019)

Posts from happier years:

Twenty Three Years Together (2018)
Twenty Two Years Together (2017)
Twenty One Years Together (2016)
Twenty Years Together (2015)
Surreal 19th Expataversary (2014)
Eighteen (2013)
The day that really mattered (2012)
Sweet sixteen (2011)
Fifteen (2010)
Fourteen (2009)
Lucky 13: Expataversary and more (2008)
Twelfth Anniversary (2007)
Eleven Years an Expat (2006)

Related:

Ex, but not ex- – A 2006 post about being an expat
Changing policies and lives – A 2011 post about becoming a permanent resident
12 years a citizen – A 2014 post about becoming a NZ citizen

Lives depend on a change

Most up-to-date figures (at the moment): 237,178 Americans have died from Covid-19, which is roughly 20% of all the people in the world who have died from it—despite the USA having only 4.25% of the world’s population. 1046 Americans died in the past 24 hours alone, and at that rate, there will probably be at least 240,000 Americans dead by Election Day.

There were 89,048 NEW American cases in the past 24 hours, for a total of 8,852,730 cases. That’s roughly 20% of all the world’s cases, too.

Lives depend on a change. Biden/Harris 2020.

‘Tis the season – again

It’s November 1, the first day of a new new month, and that can mean only one thing: Christmas shopping season has begun. Apparently. You have to feel a bit sorry for New Zealand retailers, because without a Thanksgiving to latch on to, what signal can they use to tell Kiwi shoppers it’s time to spend up large for Christmas? Today is probably only the “soft launch” of the holiday selling season: There’s so much more to come.

This morning I got two emails from companies I’ve ordered from in the past. They both promoted Christmas shopping, but the one at left was the top half of (and majority of) the email, while the one down below was at the bottom of their email (clearly they’re just warming up…). In the weeks ahead, such appeals will become much more insistent, of course, including more frequent. The thing is, since New Zealanders haven’t been able to travel overseas due to Covid-19, I bet they’ll spend more on Christmas than usual, so maybe aggressive marketing won't be as needed this year? One can hope. In any case, we’ll know for sure a couple months from now when sales figures come out.

There have been several different times that I’ve talked about Kiwi retailers having nothing to hitch the start of the Christmas sales period onto, and that they’ve tried a couple different things. For example, they’ve tried promoting Halloween, which most Kiwis still aren’t into as much as the retailers would like, but, anyway, it’s never going to be a good kick-off to Christmas sales. Seems to me it would be better to focus on Labour Weekend specials, as they do, anyway, because that’s also at the end of October.

The next tactic is that retailers are trying is to promote “Black Friday” sales, even though there’s no Thanksgiving Thursday for it to follow. Even so, it’s arguably been more successful than trying to hitch onto Halloween, and for much the same reason it works in the USA: It’s closer to Christmas. Now, too, retailers that sell tech stuff are promoting “Cyber Monday”, bless their hearts.

Even though I'm cynical about all this, I do wish NZ retailers well. Small business is the engine room of the economy, and that includes lots of small retailers. Collectively, small businesses employ thousands of Kiwis, and those businesses are hurting because of Covid.The big retail chains also employ lots of Kiwis, of course, so people spending up for Christmas indirectly help us all. I do hope some of that spend-up deliberately goes to NZ-made products, though.

Today is “a” launch of the New Zealand holiday selling season. There’s so much more to come.