Last year, I shared with you all a blog post about my 2012. The year that my hair fell out. This year, although it's mainly about my year as a whole and not about alopecia I felt maybe some of you would like to read it. (you can follow my blog at www.learningtonurse.wordpress.com

I’ve never been a fan of new year’s, it’s a harsh reminder of time ticking by and the reality that I’m terribly bad at making any form of sacrifice in order to keep a resolution for more than a week. My new years’ eve celebrations usually involve a bored game with my slightly absurd family and the grand ideology of planning something better for the coming year. 

My new year was preceded by what was the most terrible, wonderful, life changing year I’ve ever had and I suppose seeing the end of it was bittersweet. My 2013 began before the majority of anyone else’s and as the world renowned fireworks burst into life around me, filling Sydney’s harbour with noise, colour and new year's wishes, I couldn’t help but feeling that this must be an indication of the year to come.

By January I had real friends in Australia and had fully settled into life as a nanny. I loved my job and the family I lived with and had become fully acquainted to the soaring heats that adorned my days. I had become used to my own family being far away and looked forward to my weekly conversations on Skype which usually involved at least one technological fault and an array of arguments breaking out in the background. I was living in central Sydney, a walk away from the harbour and a bus away from Bondi Beach. It was a life away from what I was accustomed to but I enjoyed it, every minute of it and I often wondered about the possibility of making a life for myself there.

Towards the end of January I began a 6 week adventure taking the twins into the outback and nannying whilst the parents worked on a film. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The heat, the vastness, the complete contrast from Sydney. Everything was different, wonderful, everything needed exploring and I had the hours in the days to do it. Whilst filming went on in the towns, the twins and I walked the dusty streets with pushchairs and ice creams, bikes and toys. We dug in the sand and we watched the birds, we swam in the outdoor pools and we made friends with the locals. The heat was unlike anything I had ever experienced and the flies in our faces were a constant irritation but it was an adventure and  every day I saw something I had never imagined seeing, a kangaroo, an emu crossing the road, a budgie in the tree. The children were wonderful, they were talking now, new words every day and I was familiar to them, they seemed happy with me and that made the job all the more enjoyable. Whilst the children were in bed I was able to watch the film being made, I sat in the directors’ tent watching the filming, I saw the sets and talked to actors. It was an experience I had never expected, could never have imagined, Valentine’s day 2013, I technically spent with Robert Pattinson!

Once back in Sydney time flew quicker than ever I began to make plans for the future and at last began looking at getting back to England. Clare visited me and I visited Melbourne and I soon found myself repacking my bags and heading to New Zealand. I had stayed longer than planned but leaving Sydney was hard. Saying goodbye to the twins after seeing them day in day out for 9 months was tough.

I arrived in New Zealand to torrential rain and was drove to what would become my new home and family for the next 2 months. Life here was very different from life in Sydney and there were moments when I wish I could go back. I managed to see New Zealand in the weekends and spent almost all of them in a different corner of the country. I holidayed with strangers and bumped into family, I rode horses and scooters and bathed in hot springs. I took boats to small islands and slept in a hut. The strangers became friends as often they do and together we saw parts of the world that most people only see in films. On my 25^th birthday I jumped from a plane, went out for dinner and celebrated with friends. The greatest moment came via a skype call from the twins in Sydney, they had learnt “Happy Birthday” and recited it beautifully. 
Every penny I earned in those weeks I spent on adventures at the weekends. New Zealand was pretty, vast, magical in places but it wasn’t Australia and it never felt homely. 
My job ended 8 weeks after I arrived and from then I had 3 weeks of travelling before I was due to fly back to Sydney. I like travelling, I like the exploring and discovery, the unknown and unexpected. I rarely made plans, I listened to strangers and followed recommendations. I had a bus ticket that spanned 1000 miles, a flight back from Queenstown and a significant lack of warm clothing.
I had one aim in those 3 weeks and seeing Helen was the highlight of my time in New Zealand. The short time I spent with her was truly wonderful, we laughed like we used to and played in the snow, we drank and cooked and ate and talked.  I realised though, in those few days that we had grown up, we weren’t the people we used to be, we drank wine with our dinners now and we had plans for the future. The problem with having an adventurous best friend is that you’re rarely together and all too soon we were there, at the bus stop waiting for my bus. I cried as we said goodbye, like we did all those years ago, only this time, I knew I might not be seeing you so soon.
My travels continued south and I stopped off at several of the wonders that New Zealand had to offer. I watched the scenery change as I took the ferry from the North Island to the South, I saw seals in Kaikoura and wreckage in Christchurch. I watched the world outside change from the seat in a bus, I saw mountains, volcanos and breath-taking lakes. I arrived in Queenstown to a backdrop of snow and an abundance of English people filling the streets. It was winter by now and I was terribly unprepared, I had forgotten what it was to be cold and Queenstown was freezing. I climbed and walked and rode in a gondola. I ate the most famous burger in the world and bungeed off a bridge in the freezing rain, I drank with strangers, slept in possibly the worst hostel in Queenstown and then, in the early hours of 8^th July, cried with tiredness and pride as Andy Murray won Wimbledon.

From Queenstown I flew back to Auckland and from there back to Australia for a few last days.  Lucinda said “Kate’s home” and Harvey ran excitedly to see me when I walked back into the house in Sydney, I was so pleased to see them and at the same time devastated at this being possibly the last time I ever would.
Leaving Sydney was surreal. It had become my home and suddenly it was all over. I hugged Tony at the airport and watched as he drove away hoping that I would, at some point, get to see them all again. I couldn’t have asked for a more wonderful family to be working for, living with but at the same time, I was going to see my own family again having not seen them in almost a year.

It’s difficult to pinpoint the highlight of an entire year but seeing Mum, Dad and Auntie Dor waiting in arrivals at Heathrow after over a day of flying will be a moment I never forget. I can’t explain what it was like to be there having not seen them in over 11 months but it was home, I was home and I was happy.

From the moment I landed the year rushed by in a blur of people and places. With my bags still packed and my body clock still firmly set in Sydney I made my way to Norwich to what would potentially be the most important interview I’ve ever attended. I listened to the lectures and watched the presentations knowing now more than ever just how much I wanted to be offered a place. I was jetlagged, overwhelmed and had almost completely lost my voice but I did what I had to do, said what I could and just a few days later received the email offering me a place the following January to begin my course in adult nursing.

I could never have believed that I would have the summer I did. I suppose I imagined a let-down having essential spent the year on holiday and returned to where I left off to a job I thought I would never go back to. But I went back to it, and we had fun, I think we all had fun. I enjoyed every minute that I worked this summer, it wasn’t Australia but the weather was splendid and through grown up eyes, the job was more fun than I’d remembered.  I saw something in you that I hadn’t seen for a while and found something in myself that I thought had got lost. The worries I had of returning home quickly diminished and the confidence and acceptance I had found on the other side of the world remained with me.

I had deliberated for some time whether or not to go to Liverpool. Going to Australia had  completely changed how I felt about myself, of course I still hated what had happened but I had been accepted for who I was and I realised that I couldn’t let having this condition change what I wanted or what I did. In the previous year, I had had the chance to accept myself but was still very aware of being the only one, not having anyone else to discuss it with. I had never met another person with Alopecia but being in Liverpool made me realise that I wasn’t alone and more importantly gave me hope. I realised that these people still had ordinary lives, were loved and were happy. I had the most wonderful weekend, I could talk about things to them and they understood where nobody had before. We laughed and danced and made friends. The weekend had an aim but it proved, to me especially, to be much more about spreading awareness, we spread awareness but I feel we had also spread pride, and strength and confidence.

The remainder of the year was directed by a simple phone call that came towards the end of the summer. My university offer had been changed and if I wanted, I could now begin my course in September.  I had nothing to lose except the money I was yet to make and so once again repacked my world, said my goodbyes and moved to Norfolk.

I brought with me the parcel of nerves and apprehension that accompanies all new students beginning university but I felt with it, an overwhelming relief and enthusiasm with the knowing that I was here, doing what I wanted to be doing. Beginning my course in nursing was a completely different experience to when I previously moved away to study. I didn’t feel the pressure to make friends that I had once before, there were no wild parties, embarrassing situations or hung-over lectures.  Instead I enjoyed talking to whoever I met, having civilised cups of tea and learning. I enjoy the learning.  I couldn’t have asked to be studying amongst a nicer group of people and the friends that I have made already make the whole experience greater than it already is.
I suppose there’s always a downside to every situation and I often think about what would have happened if I had been accepted there instead, we had made plans, plans that I wanted to fulfil, plans that I ruined.  Life is full of options and pathways and I can’t afford to let opportunities slide. I know for the first time that I’m exactly where I need to be and you’re happy so I suppose there’s no downside after all. My first semester is over, I am a student nurse. I have a uniform and a growing knowledge of medical jargon. I have an understanding of the endocrine system, can vaguely draw a heart and can make a bed with hospital corners. I’m doing something I enjoy and meeting the most wonderful people in doing so.  

I had spent almost a year away from my family and as a result spent almost a year looking forward to Christmas. I enjoyed coming back from Norwich and spending time at home with family and friends. The house looked like a grotto and I realised how much I had missed it. Christmas was cold and damp and wonderfully festive. I rekindled my love of baking and my hatred of monopoly, I met up with friends I haven’t seen for over a year and with you who I thought I may not see again. I was pleased I did.

And there it was, the final minutes of 2013. Fireworks had already begun somewhere in the darkness outside, the board games had finished and dad was asleep in the chair. London burst into colour on the TV and my phone burst into life in my pocket. I was home and I was happy.