On the day of the operation, I arrived early only to find that John was still in surgery. After waiting anxiously on the ward, a nurse informed me John was in ICU. My heart raced as I dashed down to our small but well-equipped hospital to gather more information. Finally, at 5:30 PM, a different surgeon explained that they had to switch to open surgery because John’s tumour was too close to his gallbladder and liver.
As a result, our potential New Year flights were off the table.
Following seven more days in the hospital on a nearly liquid diet, John was finally released into my care. Adhering strictly to his recovery diet for another week, I couldn’t help but feel the ticking clock as our time to spend winter in New Zealand dwindled. The weather in Galicia had turned dreary, with relentless rain and cold and I started feeling the usual winter aches and stiffness of arthritis, so we hardly ventured further from the wood-burner, apart from medical appointments and grocery shopping.
Open surgery typically requires a recovery time of about four to six weeks, but John, who had been a fit 77-year-old before his health issues, was determined to get well and spend time down under in the sunshine. Despite my yearning for the sun and warmth of the southern hemisphere, I promised I would only book the flights once he felt ready.
Four weeks later, the forty stitches were out, he was back on a normal diet, and we were getting some light exercise. One look at the persistent weather forecast—more rain—made John declare, “Book the flights; we’ll manage.”
I didn’t need telling twice! I promptly booked four shorter flights, aiming to minimize our time in the air. At each stop, I arranged for lounge access to ensure we could rest and also booked wheelchair assistance.
Within 48 hours of John’s declaration to go, we found ourselves at Barajas Airport, Madrid, ready for our first flight. With help from airport staff, we zipped through the necessary checks, although I had to handle all the bags, which was exhausting. Perhaps next time, I’ll request assistance for both of us—that’s a thought!
After a grueling 36 hours of travel, we finally arrived at Rachael and Chris’s farm, completely exhausted but filled with anticipation.
So here I am now, enjoying breakfast while overlooking a field full of horses, grateful for the successful journey that brought us together.
If you love horsey stories , then sit back, relax and get yourself a copy of Jacqueline’s award winning horsey adventures.
Thank you for taking the time to read my blog and I’m so looking forward to publishing the next one.
Jacqueline P Vincent 
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