Mixed day



Had to be in the hospital early to teach medical students.
It was a very nice group, all young women.
Like the groups before they had many questions and they went below the surface very fast.
When they are as content as I was I'm very happy.

After that I went home fast, so I could dress for the funeral.

When we entered the building one of the dancers embraced me like he was my best friend. I was very surprised. He didn't even know my name.
Then we sat down. As we were among the first, we saw all others arrive.
Friends, family, old colleagues.
One of my daughters was asked to read her own text during the service and she's well known among all these people, so there were lot of hugs and talks. Their former teacher was there, which left me with a strange feeling. She was so small, and not happy at all as she's at home with a husband who is deteriorating from dementia.
Do I look the same?

When they opened the large doors we had a last look at our dear friend/sister/ballet-mom.
She looked very nice, with pearly beads in her hair, and her ballet shoes. But her spirit was gone.
It touched us very deep. I've never seen the absence of life so sharp, not even in my own dad or children.

The service was a celebration of her life and a goodbye forever.
As this was the third funeral there in a short time I felt kind of bothered by the same ways of dealing with this all. 'She loved candles'. Well, then put more candles there than those standard three. Have everyone bring a candle, burn it, and take it home after the service.

After the service we had coffee and cake.
My daughter got lots of compliments as she did it very well. People were surprised she spoke in english, but she wrote the text in english and we wanted something which grandmother who comes from New York, could understand. And she did, not only did I see her give full attention, she also thanked afterwards.

As there was no other funeral due, we could sit there, talk with people, and share our memories. t was nice we had time enough to talk with the family. I've the children seen grow up, and when we left one of the boys looked t me like he said: 'hug me'. So I went to him and he hugged me and I hope he found something of the warmth I tried to give to him.
With the promise we'll visit soon, we left.

...

Fire in the apartment building





I was just about to go to the pile of laundry, when the phone rang. My oldest had a short message:
''There's a fire in the apartment below me. Don't worry. I'm outside and I'm safe. Will call you later.''
We could follow the fire in the media. The fireworkers managed to extinguish the fire. The apartment below that of my son was declared uninhabitable. It took another two hours before we got the call that matters were settled. So here's the story.
When the fire started the women warned the fire department and everybody in the building, so everyone got out, then opened windows and door to air the place (!!!). So when she told that when they were standing outside waiting for the fireworkers, my son and another man looked at each other and went to close all windows and doors in the building. (Fireworkers later thanked them for that). The police arrived to check if everybody was out. In the meantime my son was already calling some of the other inhabitants and they said they were not in the building at all. So that helped the police. The fire was very fast and fierce. When the fireworkers arrived they wanted access to the apartment of my son, as it was directly above the fire. Coincidence was that he just had done the laundry and had a nice pile of wet tea towels in his bathroom waiting for the line. The fireworker saw this and took them to stuff the ventilation channel. This prevented most smoke entering his apartment through the channel and contained the fire to the apartment below. So he's very lucky. There is waterdamage, as they put the waterhose in the channel, so the walls in his bathroom and kitchen are wet. And there is just minor soot damage. The woman was insured the best way. So the insurance company was very fast to check the immediate damage and all will be covered, including the tea towels. LOL! Next monday a first aid by fires organisation will come and they will clean away the soot , assess the damage again, and start painting. They take 4 days to clean up all the mess. My son can sleep at a friend's house nearby when he can't sleep during the night. But he thinks he can stay at home as the smell is minimal and confined to the rooms where the ventilation channel stretches too. The woman of the burned out apartment is pregnant and she has lost everything. Because of the very good insurance that shouldn't be a huge problem, but still. I've said we can try and get things for her through the give-away groups in this area if necessary. Her parents live nearby, so she can stay there. So I'm very happy all came out without injury. And my laundry is still waiting... :)
.




You can dance again



You can dance again


Honey
you can dance again,
you can spread your arms as wings
and you can fly again.

you can raise your voice again
and be the inspiration
for all of us
to reach our limits
and go far beyond

you're our structure again,
our frame of dance
our precision
and our grace again

you are our rhythm
and our flow
an now matter what
I'll never throw
you out of my heart
because after all this time
this life
this death
you are near me again.

Honey,
I will dance again
to honor you
our friendship
and our lives again

in me
you can dance again....




 ©Syl

Sad news





Today we received the news that my ballet-sister and the ballet-mom of my children has died. It was a huge shock, especially as we planned to visit her this weekend. 

It's a long time ago we met.
She was teaching ballet at the local art-expertise center, together with her sister.
She taught classical ballet, her sister more modern dancing techniques.
Both from an american dance family.
Two very ballet-experienced ladies.

I attended her classical lessons and choreography group.

Like true sisters we had our things.
Like when we were on tour and she got stuck in traffic. The performance group arrived at the location and found a floor which was shined until it reflected heaven. It was more of an area ready for iceskating than for dancing. Even on bare feet we were sliding away.
So we decided to change the worst part into something we could manage.
Yes, we changed her choreography,  bit, but there was no other option not to fall.
One of the other leaders present agreed.
She arrived when we started performing, so we were happy she made it just in time.
It was a time without mobile phones, so she didn't know anything about the change.

We managed to bring the piece without any sliding or falling and looked to her with pride and relief.
She didn't applaud, she didn't smile.
She walked down the stairs of the theatre without any facial movement, and when she was at our level she burst out in an angry monologue, not giving us any chance to say something.
And it all was directed at me.
Only a year later she told me she was proud about what we did and that she understood why we made those changes.

We've had a lot of fun too.
She was able to give her students self confidence, so they managed to do what they thought they'd never be able to do.

Her sense of perfectionism in combination with her knowledge and experience made her into one of the best teachers of the world.
So when my daughter told me she wanted to go to the dance academy when she'd finished school, I gave her the option to be taught by my ballet-sister and told her she would get a lot of criticism, corrections and some bad moods, but that she would also be in the best hands ever.
So we went to her and asked her if she would give my daughter the honor.... 
She did, through the best times, through the worst times, even when we had no money to pay her.
My daughter is at the dance academy now. Well instructed in classical ballet, or should I say: best instructed?

I remember so many of her corrections myself. Even some of her choreographies.  And the silent laughs in the dressing room when we overheard one of the other teachers, we liked very much, who spoke with a huge accent, while at the same time we had word finding problems ourselves, as we both were english-thinking women.
When she entered the ballet studio, she turned on the heating so high, that some people nearly passed out, and I tried to keep a window open and secretly turned the radiators off, until she found out and had the conclusion ready that those knobs had springs in them to save money.

I was raised in ballet without the habit of drinking during lessons.
She liked that very much, but adjusted to the trend to drink a lot.
She taught me to drink during the lessons, like she was my mom, thought loud about movements directing me to give an example. And we had long talks, about all sorts of subjects, because we shared some things in our past. Ballet, performing, being a sensitive and sensible person in the harsh world of dancers, the loneliness, the pains, the strong inner feeling of movement and grace, always, always.

Then she didn't agree with something I said on a friday afternoon, drinking coffee and eating soup.
She didn't agree. Not just like that, but with all her passion an with so much anger, that the schoolleader came out of her office to ask what was happening.
She walked away, terribly angry, so I worried about her and the schoolleader said: 'It's like she's not herself. The people who witnessed it said to me that it was not my mistake, but the whole experience has stayed with me.

What a pity we didn't know more about dementia at that time.

A hip replacement operation made matters worse.
When we visited her she was very happy and kept on hugging us. It was such a happy event.
It was two days after surgery, but she could walk again, even though she was not allowed to do so.
She hoped to be able to dance again.
We had a long talk about how we were feeling with our physical problems, and the strong need to express ourselves in dance.

Then my heart gave up, and we saw each other far less than we wanted. I had so many set backs. so many plans that didn't work out.
She was diagnosed with dementia and suddenly everything we experienced fell in place.
Her angry moods had always been a way to keep a grasp on her reality. She got angry when we changed her security.
We didn't see it.
Would it have made a difference if we had seen it?

Her mind and her body drifted away, far from the stage of ballet, and later the stage of life.
Life was not about performing anymore, but about being.
It was not about teaching anymore, but about being guided.
Slowly she drifted away from the person she was...
and now she is completely gone.

But since the day she died I feel her arm around my shoulder again,
when she said: 'you're my ballet-sister, we're ballet-sisters.'
How I wish to hug her once again,
hold her,
smile to her,
and see her smile.
.

He studied my face...



My favorite job is to teach medical students.
Used to do it in the past as part of the staff, and now I do it as volunteer. (With the hope of getting a paying job.)

This morning was special as the accompanying cardiologist was the one who will be my cardiologist after switching hospitals. I still doubt it a little bit, because I's rather want him to be a member of my friend's list.

He caught me kind of off guard when he asked me how I was and stood there waiting for an answer. I wanted to be honest and tell him I'm not feeling OK and I started messing with my medication, but it was neither the place nor the time to discuss matters so I said 'good'. He studied my face and I made a joke.
Oh boy, someone really interested in how I was doing!

The students were great!! Had good questions, humor and were able to ask questions beside those they'd prepared.
They decided to stretch the lesson a bit longer.
A colleague came at the glass door, gesturing time was up, but we all had a laugh and we went on.

On my way back one of the students walked with me, and I felt so at home I could have stayed all day.

But my son was already waiting in the car. We went to a second hand shop where he found two great items he needed, and I found two lovely mugs, one for my daughter and one for me. Also found the small basket which was the reason to visit the shop. I have a huge hook near the front door and had a small basket there for years, all birds knew. It was completely worn out. So now I have one again.
I also found a wonderful scarf, I'm going to wear tomorrow and two other funny items. All together for jut a few euros.

The rest of the day I was far too tired to do anything, which was not good, as tomorrow the room needs to be at least a bit tidy.
But cleared part of the attic, as space is needed for the heating repair man tomorrow.
And cleaned half the fridge.

After dinner alone I suddenly fell asleep.

Wish I would have my energy back!!

.

First meeting of the year




First meeting of the year, so lots of best wishes so it feels like this year can't go wrong.
But some people were not present due to serious family circumstances.
Also some new volunteers decided not to continue. Which evoked a discussion about the way the organisation deals with new volunteers. I was glad to be able to have my say in the discussion so it wasn't necessary to bring it up myself.

A nice presence was the support dog of one of the members. When she doesn't have to work she loves to sit at my feet, like the dog I loved so much: Boris. A long haired huge dog of friends. He used to sit on my feet.

The meeting didn't last long, so I had a good talk with my friend of the magazine.
She used to live in the neighbourhood where my gram lived, and I remember seeing her going for groceries when I played with my nephew, the son of the baker.
Now she is a dear friend, and we both share the same way of humor, and share interests. She told about her support dog being almost hit by fireworks at the change of years.
I told her about my second son, being hit by fireworks when he was on his scooter, and after that he was harassed by about 20 youngsters. One of the boys threatened to knife him down.
My son called the police, the boy was pulled out of school and arrested and he will be brought to court.

We both walked to the shops, where our ways parted.

At home I had a lot to do, but was very tired.

.

Happy New Year, happy 2018!!!




So that was 2017.

Pfff, what a year it was!

The year without a husband in the house after 36 years of marriage, including 20 years of being the hotelkeeper, if you understand what I mean.
The year sharing a very tiny pension with 4 people.
I got in contact with my university friend again, and we won't loose contact ever again. Got in contact with another one and didn't even hear a thank you after sending a photo of two middle aged men enjoying a beer. Well, we had a nice day visiting. Some nice memories, and the impression that some people never change.

Offline and online some friendships developed into great caring relationships, which prevented evenings of loneliness and enriched my life. The feeling of gratitude for being surrounded by such lovely people is very intense.

I survived another calendar year.
Left the second cardiologist, not knowing how my heart was doing. Asked for the new one, but didn't get a reply in three weeks, so that's one more issue to deal with in the new year.
But I've met my new cardiologist of the other hospital, so in due time I'll go to him.
Also went to nephrology when my kidneyfunction dipped to just above dialysis level and doctors were panicking. Saw two nice assistants which were socially very capable, but still have to learn that a risk factor isn't a cause without any evidence. So next year I'll see the nephrologist herself and we'll be talking about this.
I think tht my heartfailure undermined my kidneys, as the 1st cardiologist told me might happen, and the heartmedication ruined any chance of improvement and ignorance by the 2nd cardiologist lead to deterioration. He even withheld my kidney diagnosis. I was also told the dip was caused by inflammation. Well, at the time I had a kidney echo and it showed no inflammation. Nor did the bloodwork or anything else.
We had double time making the echo, it was a teaching session, so if there had been inflammation we would have seen it.
Often I like my medical background, but sometimes it's a curse. We'll see what the nephrologist says to me. I can always go to the other hospital.
Anyway, my kidneyfunction is deteriorating in a straight line down with dips.
I've decided not to want a life kidney donor, too much of a risk for the donor.

Found no paid job this year, but did a lot of work for the heart organisation.

  • Giving information and talks in hospital
  • Public speaking about the female heart, including TV interview
  • Organising events
  • Telephone service, which was a problem as I don't have the money to pay for a proper app-phone and -service.
  • Representing the heart organisation and the university hospital
  • Representing patients and watching of and advising in care-decisions at university and regional boards
  • Working for the regional magazine
  • Teaching at university
  • Giving workshops to last chance students, which touched my heart and made me feel so at home that I immediately made a job application. Alas, they're dealing with cutbacks and maybe even closure.

It was such a lot of work, that some weeks I felt like being in a fulltime job. But I also was able to see what I like and where my talents can lead me. Using what I've learned during life was a pleasure too.
Wouldn't it be great to use it for a paid job?

I've also faced quite some decisions.
The main one is that I don't want my husband to come home again.
I don't have a choice however. As long as I don't have a job, I have no money, and I can't move out.
With 2 kids who need financial assistance there is no choice.
Halfway this year he'll be here again. I even have to buy a new place for him to sit, as I changed the old large couch into a nice ikea thingy that is OK for us, but not for his weight.
I don't want someone here anymore who just uses my work and attention, and has nothing nice or fun or kind to deliver. Just irritation and stress.
So I'm waiting for the prince on the white horse to lift me out of my simple house and carry me to his castle as his queen (not as his housekeeper, that's another fairytale), compensating for the fact that I never ever sat on a horse. (Yes, there's a silver lining in everything.)
So any scotsman is welcome to beg for my hand. I play the bagpipes. A welshman is OK too, as I love the glowing hills and the accent, but I fear I've forgotten the few lines of Welsh which were taught to me in the past.

Yes, I belong more in an english speaking country. It's the language of my thoughts and the yearning that my visits to his WW2 family and friends brought me. I don't belong here.
I belong to the hills and the coast. The Outer Hebrides will be perfect.
But maybe I'll end up with a friend in Norway, embroidering a national costume for myself, walking the dog through the snowy woods, sheltered in a warm coat, with a sniffing red nose.

Oh I know, it's not about the place where you live, but how you live in yourself.
But when my kind neighbours moved the sounds of the others became worse, the neighbourhood is not as good anymore, the trees in the garden are outgrowing me and I can't afford to have them cut and removed, and I need, yes, need to be in nature.
I've done my bit in life, in the lives of others and although I intent to go on to be an inspiration for others, I also want to be a lot more 'me'.
I often remember how I felt when standing beside the Welsh castle in the grass, high above the ocean on the rocks. The wind blowing through my hair, and yet I had the feeling I was wearing a wide cape with a huge hood. My dad and his RAF friend later told me they had the same feeling, like they went back in time and saw me in a different light.

Well, sliding into 2018 has nothing to do with time travel.
It just happens and we can't resist it.

All I know is that it doesn't help to worry. But I do, money, job, leading my own life.
And I know that my health will go on deteriorating, an I will fight it. But I'm not afraid of dying anymore.
Don't worry, I'm not planning it yet. I want to realise a few dreams, even the impossible dreams.
I still have the feeling something brilliant is waiting for me, so I keep looking for opportunities, doors and a better life.

So all I want from 2018 is a job, preferably in the UK, and I don't mind if I'll be a reporter, journalist, psychologist or university lecturer, or maybe someone behind the counter of a small shop in a small community of island people.
It's that small white house with that loyal dog which keeps in my mind. The walks on the beach with the everlasting sounds.

May 2018 hold a symbol of wellbeing for you too.


Happy New Year!!!!

.

Decision nephrologist


From a new one to a new one.
From better to best.




Today I went to see the nephrologist again.
I was very stressed.
I expected to see the nice woman, and it turned out to be a young man.

So I asked him if she was changed into the male version. He looked puzzled and then smiled: 'she's on vacation'/
'Oh, she should have planned her appointments better,' was my reaction, 'I'm very fed up with ever changing faces.'

They don't know what is the matter.
But the echo showed the right kidney is smaller than the other kidney, which wasn't in the past.

Together we agreed part of the kidney problems might be due to my heartproblems, which made my body shut down.
And as I observed a few times that my bloodpressure went down before the kidney's gave symptoms, at least part of it all can be caused by this too.

I asked for the dietician, but the team has a different idea.
So I'm referred to the kidney nurse. She knows a lot about food and diet too. So we agreed I'll try her, and see if she can deal with the other diet requirements.
And I will be referred to one of the staff nephrologists.
I didn't let him speak, for fear I might end up with one of the male ones and asked if I could go to the female nephrologist, as she was the one who diagnosed the kidney insufficiency.
He started to laugh and said that that was what the team wanted too.

They are worried about the whole issue as they consider me far too young to deal with this.
Puh, I'm 61.

I got a compliment that I had refused to stop Fosinopril, even though I hate the stuff, it's good for the kidneys,
We also talked about the new prescription of the cardiologist (Labetalol) and that I want better cooperation between the two disciplines. But first we have to wait to see.who will be the new cardiologist.

It was a pleasant consultation.
And I have to say that I feel a lot more cared for than at cardiology...after my first cardiologist had left. Even though the cardio-nurse has been very kind and nice.

But when going home I got angry.
At that cardiologist. He told me the last time that my kidneys were OK.
Good that I didn't tell the kids or anyone else, because I didn't trust him. It was not up to him to give the result of the echo, and he gave it wrong!!!
Even worse.... he missed an issue in the ECG, or didn't know what it was, or didn't care to inform me.
When my first cardiologist left I was very sad, but now I'm relieved. Better without a cardiologist than with one I've had.

47. DVD of the BBC-series: Great Rift: Africa's Wild Heart





I'm very impressed by the BBC series: Great Rift: Africa's Wild Heart
I love every moment of it.
The way nature is filmed is amazing. The effort the crew took to give us an insight in animal behaviour was huge. But it certainly paid off.
It's one of the few series that keeps me focused from the first second to the last. And makes me dream long after the episodes have finished.

The series is narrated by Hugh Quarshie, one of my favorite players of Holby City.
His voice calms me, and draws me in the film even more.

I think I can see this series over and over again, seeing each time new things, and never ever be bored.

So I think it's wise to have a DVD, so I can watch it when I'm in the hospital or very ill at home.

.

Gone and back



So I did the urine collecting a week later.
When I collected the containers I expected one with a liquid or powder and one without. But they were both without.

The first day went OK, the second day my kidneys almost shut down, and as I didn't know if I could take a tablet to keep them going I took nothing. Maybe they can find the reason of the shutting down..

Had to pee in a little pot too. Pity...just a few drops. I was afraid they would tell me in the hospital it was not enough, but the nurse didn't even look at it.
She did the paperwork, and that was it.

Another nurse took some blood and off I went.

Had my eyes checked so I could order new glasses.
When the woman was ready she told me to come back later in the week. The results were so very much different from last time, she wanted someone else to check them too.
So: new appointment: saturday.

The rest of the day I did some chores, but I felt more and more cloudy in my head.
So at last I cancelled tomorrow.'s going with my son to the movieset.
It will be rather hot and I can't risk getting unwell. There's nothing to hide at the airfield.

In the evening my kidneys started to work again.

Pffff.
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