I was wondering...

why it had been so long since I last blogged. Have things been too hectic around here? Was I running out of inspiration? Maybe other priorities? I really don't know. It just didn't happen for a while. I had the intention to blog every now and then, but I never really got to it.

Today is the day I need to blog. Because I'm sad. Because I want to scream and shout. Because life is a bitch. I feel devastated and hurt and my heart is bleeding. Scrolling back through my blog, I saw that one of my last blogs was about how we are just promised today, not tomorrow. I can't believe this actually has happened. You had not yet come to terms with your papie's passing. You missed him so much and your heart didn't find the right way to heal. You missed your rock, your inspiration, your guideline and your mentor. He meant the world to you..

Did you ever realize how much you meant to that same world? Did you ever hear your family and friends say how much they appreciated you? You were so special, so unique, so unselfish. Whatever you did, you did in the best interest of others. I never heard you talk bad about anyone. You were always a very good listener and your heart was big enough to hold a great bunch of friends.

I liked to stop by, whenever I went to Bruges. Your cute little dog Troy was your pride, although you still missed Chablis, your previous dog. Troy is waiting for you to come home, sitting by the screen door, not understanding why the house is filled with crying people holding on to each other. I picked him up and tried to comfort him. We tried to comfort each other. Your daughter, your son, your husband and your friends.. we were all there to try to understand the reason for your being taken away. I do understand there is a reason for everything but I really can't see any reason for this loss. You were born 6 months before me. Too young to go explore the other world. Why? Just why???  You were needed here... you had been doing so well lately, trying to get control of your diabetes.
Do you remember our first date, at your parents' house? There was this instant click. It's been just a little over a year since we first met, but it seemed like we had known each other for much longer. Sometimes there is this connection one cannot explain. Even if we hadn't seen each other for some time, we just picked up where our last conversation ended.

You called me, late that Tuesday night. Our eldest daughter had been in an accident and you wanted to know if she was okay. We chitchatted a bit and we were making an appointment for a gathering with D-friends. I was having a low during our conversation so you told me to get some coke and promised me we would continue our conversation the next day. I will never forget that horrific Wednesday, October 22.. I wanted to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay. I wanted to make sure the hospital staff did not remove your Dexcom so they would know if you went low. Being in a coma would not give you the opportunity to tell anyone if your bloodsugar was dropping. That worried me. What if you realized you were low but you couldn't speak? It is so terrifying..

I guess we will never really know what made your heart stop so sudden, so out of the blue. There was no prehistory of heart issues. Your diabetes was under control and you were not sick. We have been told you didn't suffer at all, if that can be of any comfort to anyone. I just wished we could turn back time..

A skull on the cooker...

In my first year in college, there was a classmate, whose father was a grave digger. I was fascinated by his work and by skeletons. Not too many years before, I had collected some skulls and skeletons of tiger cubs and baby capuchin monkeys. Working in the amusement park and taking care of the wildlife, I sometimes ended up with some dead animals. I was always curious about their skeleton and my boss agreed I could bury the corpses in my backyard. And I did..

One morning, the friend-with-the-grave digger-father, knocked on my student's room's door. She was holding a black garbage bag and said: I think you will be pleased with what I'm bringing you.. She left me with the bag and took off to school. I opened the bag and found what I had already expected: a human skull. I'm sure it was so not legal what I was holding in my hands, but I was thrilled. The skull was old. I didn't know whether it was male or female, but I named her Rosy. I took Rosy home in the bag. Nobody was home to welcome me. Rosy was dirty with sand and bugs. I decided to cook the skull on the stove, in a huge pot. The smell wasn't too bad, but the skull didn't get much whiter. It was still yellow and dirty.. I added some bleach to the water and brought it back to a boil. Not much later, my mom came home and she was truly appalled about what was cooking on her stove.. Darn..

Rosy came out clean. She was still a bit yellow and brown, but I liked her. She got a special place in my room. I don't recall having taken any pictures of Rosy, but I do remember I put a candle inside and when I would light that candle, the eye sockets would lit up.. At one time, Rosy held a rose in between what was left of her teeth..

I'm not sure what happened to Rosy once I left for the US. Maybe she got buried again?

I met my husband in 1994. He lived in a small village near college. The friend who had delivered the skull, lived in that same village. So did her father. And that's where he was a grave digger.. Let's hope we didn't dig up one of the family members..

Kind of like being hit by a bus

You have had this pimple on your cheek for over a week now. It's been bothering me and I wanted the vet to have a closer look at it. So I rang her to make an appointment and she could see you fairly quickly.

You trembled like a leaf, standing in the vet's office. You were falling apart and gave me that sad look like you wanted to say: "why are you putting me through this?". It was necessary though, to exclude certain cases. The vet got a sterile needle out of her cabinet and you lost it. She could hear your heart beat without using her stethoscope. Oh Rebba... there's no need to be that afraid. I was there to hold you and comfort you and take you back home after the exam..

The vet told me I could expect her phone call somewhere in the afternoon. That worried me a little. It worried me even more, when she called me and used the C-word. I didn't hear much else but that awful word and I even missed the word "benign" when she talked about the tumor on your cheek. She called it a histiocytoma. I needed a piece of paper to write it down because it was such a hard word to remember. It's okay. It is not a malignancy. You won't die. There's even a big chance it will disappear just by itself over time. The vet found it strange though, that you got that tumor. It's rarely found in older dogs (you are 6). It occurs more often in young dogs under the age of 2. But at the same time, greyhounds are more susceptible to this type of tumor than other breeds.

It's benign. It's benign. It's benign. 

Nobody said it would be easy

I often get the question: how can you work as a personal assistant? Is it not too strenuous? Don't you get involved emotionally? What if your patient dies?

I don't ask myself those questions. Life and death are part of the circle. In the end we will all die somehow. Of course we all want to live happily ever after. We want to lead a healthy and fulfilling life. Unfortunately, not all of us are that lucky. Some lives are way too short. Sometimes it involves a child, that is not meant to grow old. A child that will never become an adult. A child that will not go to school, have playmates or sleepovers. A child, loved so deeply and surrounded by the most affectionate people ever, that her life is very fulfilling and warm. Her passing away will cause so much grief among as many people, but those are situations we shouldn't wonder about right now. This is the time to celebrate her life, to care for her in the best way possible. It's all about making her life as comfortable as possible and giving her all the love she can handle. Life is about the little things. It's not about making a fortune. It's not about having the biggest and fastest car around or about buying a second or a third house. Life is so much more. One can be much happier if surrounded by people who really care and love you for who you are..

She's not doing too well. She has been having more fevers than normal and the epileptic episodes seem to occur more often. Her body is infected and she has a hard time fighting the infection. But she'll be okay. She's well taken care of. I'm sure that makes her relax and realize that she's not alone. She has many hands on her shoulders to guide her through this. She'll be just fine. I just know she will...

Blue Monday

For the first time, I heard that the third Monday of January is considered Blue Monday. All over the world, this is the day when most people feel depressed, sad or even desperate.

I was watching this program on TV. A Chinese business man had survived two suicide attempts, after his companies went out of business. He thought his experience could help other people and he started to give seminars to suicidal peers. His classes were packed and the audience was focused. There were coffins in the auditorium. The attendees were asked to have their "last" picture taken and to write their own eulogy. They changed the clothes they were wearing for graveclothes, before they crawled into their coffin in deep silence. The lids were being put on top and the coffins were nailed down. For some time, they were being left inside their coffins, to reflect over their lives. Meanwhile, their family and friends were gathering in the same room, to attend the fake funeral. The "dead" person could hear the grief and the sorrow of their beloved ones. It made them aware of how fortunate they were to have so many wonderful people around them. Not of one the attendees has made a new suicide attempt since the classes they took. Spooky.. but effective..