Man Down

One detail pertaining to our move to Australia has continued to haunt our subconscious. That being our VISA status. We arrived in Australia on a Working Holiday VISA subclass 417. This VISA allowed Steph and I to live and work within Australia for a maximum of one year commencing on the date of arrival. Although, this included a stipulation that, as a VISA 417 holder, we could only work for a single employer for a maximum of 6 months. Thus encouraging us, and visitors alike, to work and travel keeping hard earned Australian dollars within its own economy. Initially, our VISA status wasn't the top priority - finding a job was. Moving to the other side of the world isn't cheap.

Fortunately we found jobs in our respective career field; Steph as a teacher, and me as an engineer. This was an exciting time, but also required us to devote a lot of energy and time toward our new found personal endeavours. After some time, we both began to feel comfortable with our daily routines. Just as we thought we were in the clear, our subconscious came knocking to remind us that we still had unfinished business to attend.

We were faced with a difficult decision. Do we apply for a new VISA to lift the working restriction, or only commit to a 6 month employment period with our employers? We were again fortunate in that we both enjoyed our jobs, and decided to apply for a new VISA. The VISA we applied for was a Long Stay Business Class VISA subclass 457. This VISA required the sponsorship of our employer(s) indicating to the Australian Department of Immigration that our services were in demand. Mintrex graciously offered to sponsor my VISA with Steph as a secondary applicant. After gathering our documents, filling out tedious online forms, and an application fee of $235 dollars, our fate in Australia laid in the hands of the government.

For the VISA application to be considered, one of the criteria was that we have 'adequate' health insurance. While reading the health insurance documentation, we noticed that there was an initial waiting period of 2 months after your first payments before any claims could be made toward your coverage. Steph and I joked foolishly that we better stay safe for the next couple months to avoid outrageous hospital fees. So, in hindsight, it was no surprise that I would find a way to hurt myself. Not a serious injury, but enough to give us a scare.

It was a Monday evening. I was reading a book and Steph was watching reality TV. Both of us in good form - no ailments. The calm before the storm. As the clock struck 21:00, I grabbed my gym gear and set off for my weekly Men's League basketball game, leaving Steph to enjoy the rest of her evening peacefully alone - risk free. I, on the other hand, was sweating it out on the court in a tightly contested game. With minutes left and the game hanging in the balance, I had the ball in the open floor with numbers on a fast break. With the defense out of position, an opportunity presented itself for me to attack the basket. In my mind there was nothing that could prevent the inevitable: an easy layup, a trip to the chariot strip, or a simple pass to a teammate for an easy score. A fantastic position to be late in a close game. Nothing could get in our way. Nothing except a foot. As I accelerated through traffic, setting in motion the sequence of events that would undoubtedly lead to my envisioned result, I stepped on a stray foot. And that was enough for things to go from good to bad. My ankle rolled and I lost control of the ball as I struggled to avoid the worse possible injury. My night on the court was over. With only five players in uniform, we were forced to finish the remainder of the game with only four players on the court. At a severe disadvantage, we fought hard for the final five minutes, and eventually were handed a four point defeat.

I had suffered a high ankle sprain. I guess it was a blessing in disguise that it was my left ankle. It was the same ankle that I had severely injured three years previously, which had required surgery to fully repair. Because of this, I was worried that a reoccurring injury, although less severe, may have proved just as damaging involving a lengthy recovery period. It was somewhat of a blessing since I had previously experienced the maximum range of motion that that part of my body could sustain, and the magnitude of pain as a consequence when that range was exceeded. After the initial scare, I quickly realized that only ice, anti-inflammatory medicine, and time would be all that was necessary for a full recovery.

I would not be able to walk normally, and certainly not comfortably, for a couple of days. With hopes of accelerating the healing process, I took the following day off work. Steph also took the day off, kindly running errands to ensure I was as comfortable as humanly possible. An interesting scenario arose when she visited the pharmacist (chemist), searching for a suitable anti-inflammatory and an ice-pack. The chemist asked if Steph required any assistance looking for what she needed. Steph accepted this offer and asked where she might be able to find an ice-pack. The chemist looked at her quizzically. Steph quickly acknowledged the poor chemist's dumbfounded expression and proceeded to describe my injury, and an ice-pack's use and characteristics in great detail, under the assumption that Australians may have a different term for the item. For what seemed like an eternity, the chemist's demeanor continued to exhibit the inability to grasp the concept of an ice-pack, until it finally donned on her. Making the connection the chemist exclaimed, "Ah, you must be looking for an ice-pad!" Now it was Steph's turn to look completely bewildered. We have tried to reason why this seemingly simple task proved so arduous. We have no logical explanation.

This did not bode well for Steph's confidence in the chemist. This was, after all, the person responsible for recommending my medication. I'm not sure if it was the Australian drug regulations or the chemist's lack of wherewithal, but Steph eventually walked away with the equivalent of Tylenol 2 after turning down a perscription (for the absentee) for Tylenol 3. I'm a bit hesitant when it comes to taking medication, but those pills definitely relieved the pain.

It's nearly been a fortnight since the injury. It looks like I'll make a full recovery and be running around in no time. With regard to the status of our VISA application, we have recently been approved. We can come and go, and work without restriction until June 2014. It took the Australian Department of Immigration less than two months to approve our VISA. This was terrific and surprising news. Conveying the news to my employer evoked similar expressions. It was not characteristic for this process to have been conducted so quickly and smoothly. What had I done that made my case different? What was my secret? I definitely didn't do anything extraordinary except carefully follow the application instructions, and I was solely responsible for handling our application. Well, almost.

One evening, after arriving home late at night, I decided to grab a quick shower before bedtime. As I turned off the water to the shower, I heard voices - not from within my head, but from outside of the bathroom. It was Steph on the telephone. The conversation continued for another ten minutes while I preformed my pre-bedtime routine. Steph was very cheery on the phone, often laughing and cracking jokes. At one point, she asked the caller if they'd like to talk to me. The caller politely declined the opportunity. I was naturally interested as to who had called. After the conversation ended, Steph revealed that the caller was our case officer for our VISA application! I'm not sure what Steph said, but it must have been charming, because the next day our VISA's were approved.