Buddhaful Britt

C'mon Inner Peace… I Don't Have All Damn Day

Green Card: Approved

Bright and early this morning, my husband and I had our ROC meeting, or the “Removal of Conditions” from his two year green-card.

No matter how much proof you turn in, or however many receipts you save, there is always that fear of this turning into a nightmare situation.

We tried very hard to prepare, but the bottom line is each interview is different, and each interviewer has the power to decide your fate.

Our number was called and we walked into the office.

Right away, we were greeted with a friendly face, and a question simply asking how our marriage is going.

Manny and I both smiled, and told the man our marriage was great.

After a few more random questions, he asked us about our cultural differences.

I decided to tell him a “Manny” story that recently happened.

As many of my readers know, I loveeeeeee telling people about the cultural mishaps we experience daily! THIS one, I assure you WINS THE PRIZE.

Fasten your seat-belts folks.

A few months ago I started developing hormonal issues. I gained a lot of weight in an extremely short period of time. They discovered fibroids, and two complex cysts on my ovaries, which still terrifies me.

My darling husband, wanted to help, so he started doing research on HRT, hormone replacement therapy. He made me three appointments, at three different doctors, so I could decide who I was most comfortable with.

The first doctor sounded good but was quite far and expensive.

The second one though, seemed promising. My mom and I walked into the office and filled out the paperwork. On the questionnaire, I noticed some odd questions typically not on any other paperwork, but didn’t pay it much mind.

My name was called, and I was shown the way into a cozy, dark, office which resembled a therapists room.

I sat down on the sofa, as the doctor began asking me questions like… “How much do you drink a week?

“That’s odd,” I thought to myself.

She continued with her barrage of very personal, and seemingly out-of-line questioning. Each one giving me pause, and gradually upsetting me with the thought that my husband may have tricked me into this appointment with ulterior motives.

“How about your drug use? Has anyone ever told you that you need to get your usage under control?” She asked.

DRUG USE? My mind was racing, WTF? When I blurted out, “What in the world did my husband tell you when he made the appointment?”

Blank stare.

Long uncomfortable silence.

She says calmly, surely expecting another outburst from me, “Exactly how long have you wanted to be a man?”

Silence.

Fuck.

Manpreet!!!!!!!

“Ummmmm, my husband is from India. I think there has been a HUGE mistake,” panicked, I reply.

“Soooo, you were not aware that your husband wants you to transition?” she asks, as if we are going to be her most interesting case.

I blurt out, “No, No, NOOOOO….. MY husband thought he was getting me testosterone, you know, hormone replacement.” 

Still very confused as to what was going on, she says, “Yes we do that here, but first we need to make sure you’re psychologically prepared.”

“Ummm, OMG, I’m going to kill him… you don’t understand he is from India!!!! I rapidly explain, “he has no idea what “transitioning” is….”

At this point, I’m stuck in this therapists office who simply isn’t understanding why I’m so upset. So I pretty much yell at this poor woman, “My husband is from INDIA, he doesn’t understand healthcare in the US, he thinks he is getting me menopausal support!!!!”

I was almost hyperventilating from the hilarity.

But, if you could have seen the look on her face… shock, disbelief, and embarrassment once she realized that my sweet husband didn’t, in fact, want me to become a man. He only wanted to surprise me with hormones to help my weight gain.

 

The immigration officer listened to my story, keeping his wide eyes locked with mine as he slowly grabbed his stamp… and approved us right there, on the spot.

THAT FOLKS, is how it’s done.

Congratulations to my amazing husband. Next step… Citizenship! 

Against all odds, we did it!! Follow our story below:

Your Boyfriend is from India?  pt 2  —> HERE

His Indian Parents Don’t Accept You? —> HERE

Jersey Girl and the Sikh—> HERE

My Indian Boyfriend pt 1—>HERE

My Big Fat Sikh Wedding: Prelude —> HERE

My Big Fat Sikh Wedding: Showtime —> HERE

My Big Fat Sikh Wedding: Indian Astrology —> HERE

My Big Fat Sikh Wedding: The Dress —> HERE

Surviving Long Distance Love—> HERE

Open Letter to my Husband—> HERE

Our Story, Retold —> HERE

Culture Shock: The Good, The Bad and the Ugly —> HERE

Culture Shock: What to Expect?-–> HERE

Culture Shock: Six Months in America —> HERE

Culture Shock: Manny’s First Christmas —> HERE

Culture Shock: The First Year—> HERE

Our Honeymoon: Rishikesh India—> HERE

K1 Fiance Visa: The Process—> HERE

K1 Fiance Visa: The Inteview —> HERE

Cr1 Spousal Visa: The Timeline —> HERE

Cr1 Spousal Visa: Interview Questions —>HERE

A Journey to:  New Delhi—> HERE 

A Journey to:  Jaipur India —> HERE

A Journey to: Dubai UAE —> HERE

Our First Diwali—> HERE

Giving Thanks, Shukryia  —> HERE

Being Sikh in America—> HERE

The Indian Grocery: Natural Products—> HERE

A Path to Happiness—> HERE 

True Love Lives Quietly —> HERE

Buddhaful Britt: Most Interesting Travel Blogger —> HERE

Buddhaful Advise: As We Think, So We Become —> HERE

Buddhaful Advise: Inner Peace —> HERE

Buddhaful Advise: Everyday Stress —> HERE

SUBSCRIBE HERE to follow our journey at BuddhafulBritt.com

Namaste’

 

 

4 comments on “Green Card: Approved

  1. frannnelli
    October 28, 2019

    We are starting the same ROC process….didn’t know we needed another meeting sigh

    Like

    • Britt
      October 28, 2019

      You may not. We were just unlucky I guess.

      Like

  2. Kathi Repka
    October 30, 2019

    Best wishes! The process can be overwhelming, I know…much love to all!💕

    Like

    • Britt
      October 30, 2019

      Thank you so much for reading and commenting. 🙏🏼❤️

      Like

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This entry was posted on October 17, 2019 by in Buddhaful.

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