Well, the results are less that perfect, guys. Our interview went okay, we answered all the banal questions about each other and showered her with documents. Except the one she wanted – apparently, we are meant to have a US-approved vaccination report, and Stuart’s UK one (that was showed to the doctor for his UK-side medical) isn’t good enough.
So we need to make a call, see a USCIS-approved doctor, fork over a wad of cash for him basically to transcribe Stuart’s UK vaccination report, and then Fed-Ex it back to our friendly case officer. She said we were basically fine except for that, once she got that in the file she’d approve us and mail the green card.
What that means is very little, really. Stuart can still work, since we’ll have resolved this well before February when his current Employment doc runs out. We’re otherwise fine on our application, according to today’s caseworker, and the address she gave us isn’t some scary monolith processing center but her own desk in the very building we were in, which gives me hope.
And call it some sick twisted Stockholm Syndrome, but I got to see our papers flashing past in her thick case file, all the things we’d ever sent over, our handwriting on every page as it flipped past, and I got a little sentimental.
And also, glad that all our disparate applications, supplications, reparations, negotiations … all of them … made it into the same brown folder. Minus one, of course. So, one pesky little vaccinaition report, coming right up.
Fries with that?

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