Accept what is ……

It’s July, the year 2020 is halfway through, which seems a good time to look back upon the first half.

If ever I had expectations before it started it definitely turned out completely different, but with Covid-19 to deal with, that goes for all of us. However, I could never ever have imagined it would get worse than that.

What do you do as a parent when a child completely loses grip on the world and life? What do you do when trust is broken and the consequences of actions are so desastrous and violent that you only wish for your child to leave and never come back? That you even take actions that no parent ever wants to take, but that are the only solution to the problem?

Well, I know the answer now, but I can only speak for myself, because it’s the hardest thing I ever did in my life and I know not everyone can do it. The only way to justify it was to keep telling myself that I didn’t do it to punish. It was done out of love and protection. Because there are more people in this family, people who need a good place to live, a safe place. But most of all it was done to help.

When bad things happen people often ask themself why it happens to them, what did they do wrong? Why can’t they have a normal life, like everyone else? I was no exception to that rule. I never experienced the amount of mixed emotions on a daily basis like I did these past months. Anger and grief caused sleepless nights and exhausting days. Many times I wished I never had had children at all and couldn’t care less if I never saw my child again. But then memories popped up, of vacations, holidays and birthdayparties, of the moments that make a mother’s heart swell with joy and pride. Those memories left me in tears, desperately wishing I could turn back time and make this all go away, which, of course, is impossible. What’s done is done, you have to deal with it.

And then that same child needs your help, despite everything that happened and went wrong. And what do you do then? Do you let recent events set the course, or do you see the child as it used to be. The child you know, is still somewhere inside. The child you nursed and loved and helped through so many difficult moments in life.

Well, you open the door, set rules, make agreements and you take it back into your home, because, like author Diana Gabaldon once wrote: “Home is where they have to take you in”.

That decision wasn’t easy, oh no! My attitude was far from loving and caring, and when setbacks occurred I almost kicked my child out, again! But that last setback, that last horrible day seems to have been a turning point. For the first time in months there was honest talk, honest regret and insight that something needed to be done to turn this awfull situation into a positive outcome.

And steps were taken. Medication, therapy, rules, talking and (even more) listening! There is lots of talking and listening, and mostly I’m involved. The timing of talking is not always convenient, and it’s often a challenge to sit down calmly and listen, but I know how important it is. For both of us, yes for both. It’s important for the proces of healing and restoring faith. Faith that we will get through this together. Faith that it will turn out for the better.

Now, a few weeks later and after hitting rockbottom, it feels like we are slowly climbing up to the light, one small step forward at a time (and sometimes a step back) but up. Every good day is a good day added to the list of good days. We’re not there yet and it will still take a lot of time and patience, but there is hope that in the end we are able to say that this very bad time eventually turned out to a good outcome.

Social Distancing At Home

When I started to cough a little bit more, sneezed too often to blame it on the weather and started to feel less and less well last Friday I knew the time of working, isolation and social distancing was over and had to be changed into quarantine. The efforts to prevent becoming ill hadn’t worked and although the symptoms don’t necessarily mean I would test positive I need to act like I have.

For now it means no visit at all to my mum. Though she’s vital and in good health she’s also 87 and has a heart condition. Fortunately she understands the severity of this virus and takes every precaution necessary to prevent from getting infected. I couldn’t be more grateful for that.

I had to call in sick from work, something I haven’t done in the past 10 years, and if it had happened during normal times I never would have done so at all. But rules and regulations are to be followed. I said it so many times before. It’s my turn now.

At home I have to practice social distancing as if I’m living on an island, to prevent my hubby and 2 adult sons, who live at home, getting ill. Both boys are strong and healthy, but hubby suffers from severe COPD and that means I could be a major threat to his health.

Social distance at home means I have my own corner in the livingroom, sleep in a seperate bedroom, am never together with anyone else in the kitchen or any other room and we have sanitizing handgel and cleaning wipes on every floor. I perferably wear long sleeves to keep me from touching door handles, light switches and stair railings.

Being mindful has helped me a lot these past weeks to be aware of how often one touches his/her face and contactpoints. I don’t think my hands and house have ever been as sterile as in these days. It all may sound exagerated, but these days I follow the saying: “better safe than sorry” to the letter!

It’s Monday now and I’m feeling better than Saturday which was a really bad day, but at least I had no fever. This morning I called the doctor’s office and was told to stay at home until 24 hours without symptoms have passed. After that I am allowed to go out again and eventually work. I will not be tested, not even with a vulnerable person in my close vicinity. The symptoms are not severe enough. Of course the latter is a good thing, but we will never know if I had a mild form of the virus or that it was just the flu.

And while we remember better days, we keep our distance, wave at eachother and blow a kiss, and hope that this soon will be over.

The Freedom to Take a Walk

Last Sunday I went for a walk. Not the first time this year and it reminds me that I need to post some photos and info from my other walks this year (I wanted to write a blog after each walk but so far that didn’t work out).

The walk felt a bit strange. I usually go out on my own for a walk on Sunday and last Sunday was no exception to it. What made it different was the fact that I was wondering if I will be allowed to go out for a Sundaywalk the following week also.

In this troubled and worrying time, with the Corona virus spreading globally around, I already try to avoid most and close contact with other people outside of my family, but I think there are way more measures necessary to keep the threat contained. The time for appeal to common sense is over, we need clear decisions and vigor. With my husband (severe COPD) and my mother (heartcondition) in the high risk group I get very angry when people keep saying it’s just like the flu and keep doing what they always do.

My walk last Sunday was a nice one, through The Malpie, a region with wet heather and fens. Let’s hope I can soon walk there again with a less heavy mind and soul.

At the moment we’re still allowed to go out and I will be walking tomorrow. Walk while I have the freedom to do it.

Carpe Diem

Friendship through the Veils of Time

Yesterday hubby and I paid a visit to friends we hadn’t seen in a very long time.Our friendship goes back 35 years, from the time I met her when we started working as physiotherapists in a practice in Krefeld in Germany. After working in that practice for 1,5 years we went different ways, but our friendship remained and both our partners joined in that friendship. Sometimes many years got by without meeting or having a chat over the phone, but every time the 4 of us met it was as if we only met last week and we picked up the thread where we left it. Yesterday was the first time in 6 years….

We have a lot in common besides our profession. Age, married, 2 children, various interests, enough to fill hours of wonderful conversations and visits are always filled with joy, fun, jokes and laughter.

But for more than 25 years we share worries because of health issues too. I with my hubby with multiple chronic illnesses, and she as a 3 times breastcancersurvivor. My hubby started to have issues with his health when he was in his 30’s, my friend was diagnosed with breastcancer for the first time when she wasn’t even 40! And being a partner of one of these people, her husband and I were confronted with all the sorrow and worries that come with it, meanwhile keeping things on track for families with young children.

Above, and despite, all we all share a strong determination to go on, not to quit, no matter what. My hubby still works, despite his pain, poor lungs, a pacemaker and a hipreplacement. And my friend, well, she got back to work as a physiotherapist only 4 weeks after she had both breasts amputated last time the cancer came back, 10 years ago! They both (and we with them) kept on going where others had already quit long ago, saying: “there are always people with bigger issues.”

Keep on going like this is only possible when partners are equally strong and determined, no matter how hard it is. And as a partner you grow in it. It becomes part of your life and way of living, to take your partner’s health into account in almost everything you do.

And now the 4 of us are (almost) all 60 years of age and slowly we start to realise that we are tired, that it’s enough. That a life of taking responsibility, being determined to go on and never quit where others would, took its toll on all of us, patients AND their partner! That we have reached our limit.

Reading our partner’s healthfiles should be enough for authorities to say “you’ve done enough for society, you get the recognition and the rest you deserve”. Instead we have to fight to convince authorities of it and our government expects us to work longer because statistics tell we live longer. We know we’re not alone in this, and that there are many others like us, and of course we won’t give up. We never did, and never will. But with every year that passes it gets a little harder, it requires a bit more effort, it hurts a little more, and we realise:

We are strong, but we are tired.