What the hell are you doing, Tim? (pt 1)

Many posts ago, I suggested that I'd give you some background on why I'm off on my little expedition. I was hoping that by writing it down, I'd be able to better sort it out in my own head and explain with clarity what I can't sum up in 25 words or less.

It's something I've been avoiding because it's easier to catalogue what I've been doing than how I've been feeling. I am, despite my appearance, a man after all.

Back in October last year, my head was in a confusing place. I had told my employer that I wanted to resign after five years as a consulting engineer. My immediate boss - a remarkable human being - offered me a 12-month sabbatical instead. Maybe he knew that when things aren't right in my head, I usually choose flight before fight, then come back to equilibrium with renewed perspective. Maybe he's just a really great bloke.

Either way, I was packing up my rental unit in the northern outskirts of Hobart, with the idea of heading back to my parents' place in Queensland, which I would use as a cheap base for international travel. LT and I had tickets booked to explore Thailand together for a month, before diverging to pursue our own travel interests for a bit. She was planning to take a live-in Thai massage course, while I hankered after a trip on a small motorcycle around southeast Asia. Doing some conservation volunteering was also on the cards if time allowed.

Looking back, it was a shaky plan, because I had no idea where I would live or work after travelling. I can see now that it must have been difficult for LT to listen to my travel/work/life ideas and not have much of a clue how she fit into them. To be honest, I wasn't sure either, but the urgency of my need for change didn't allow me to fully consider her feelings. Part of the romance of travel, for me, is in rising to challenges independently; discovering who you can be in unusual places, alone. Just how to fit that love of solo travel, which I've had since high school, into a stable and loving relationship, was hard for me. The sort-of-plans I had laid were my best solution at the time.

Against this setting of me packing up, selling possessions and scaring the crap out of my girlfriend, LT went on a routine trip to the doctor. Almost as an afterthought at the end of her consultation, she showed the doc a small bump that had appeared under her left jawbone. I don't know exactly what the doctor said, but LT was told she needed some tests done to check the lump's identity.

The pathologists stuck a needle in it, took home a little piece to examine and gave us some annoying news: LT needed the lump excised, because the nature of the growth couldn't be confirmed by biopsy alone. A surgeon was found, a surgery date was set and we waited, a little nervously, to get the damn thing out and get on with life. I extended my stay at work and in my unit so that I could be around when the surgery took place.

The day arrived and we drove to St John's Hospital early in the morning to be admitted. LT's surgery would be the first of three for that day, so she, Carol and I settled in for a nervous wait.

I'll describe what happened after that in a "part 2" post, because this one already has too many words and only one token picture.