Release

Martijn's new physcial therapist Ineke van den Bosch performs a release therapy for Martijn's spine to help open up the lung area. At home, Thursday, November 1, 2007


Ineke and Maurice, our physical therapist and general practitioner, visiting our home today.

Today was a release day. Both Martijn and I experienced some release. We didn't have to rush through the morning and we didn't have to go to the hospital. My release was feeling 'normal' and happy. I managed a relaxing hot bath topped off with my regular 'in tub' meditation, then did the groceries at nearby Albert Hein supermarket where I ran into my friend and colleague, Sophie Vanhoonacker, who was director of the University of Maastricht European Public Affairs Masters Programme when I originally applied. It's always so nice to see and speak to Sophie. After lunch, Doc Maurice stopped by and I received my flu shot sitting at our own dining room table! Although he is primarily here to visit Martijn I enjoyed a big release not having to travel to his office. We had a lively discussion of Dutch health care and I'm going to try to work with him to promote some ideas he has to improve public health policy. In the late afternoon I dropped off our glass recycling in the containers provided around the city and found a reasonably priced bicycle for me that I bought. I've had a very poor quality used 'fiets' and wanted a better bike so that I can make use of our wonderful Dutch bikeways more.

Martijn, too, seemed to be released for a while from the exhaustion and frustration of the hospital clinic visits. Ineke worked wonders with him. He made his own breakfast and lunch, enjoying very much his improved mobility and stamina. Tonight will be another quiet evening. I'm preparing spinach pasta with vegetarian 'meat' balls, red sauce with zucchini and salad with sun-dried tomatoes.

People have been asking how I'm caring for myself. My friend, Carol Malkinson, whose presence was so comforting to me during Martijn’s hospital stay, sent an email about book on caregiving she read while caring for her mom aptly called "The 36-hour Day." The 36-hour day truly reflects what it feels like. But, I have some tricks rather like the advice given to parents regarding airline safety measures: When the oxygen masks fall, warn the airline hosts, parents should first apply their own mask before helping their child. The logic is rather simple: If you are out of air you can’t help anyone else. So, each day during this first critical phase of Martijn’s surgery and recovery I made sure to take a refreshing bath or shower and to meditate, even if for a very short time. Except when Martijn’s condition was truly critical, I also made sure to apply my minimal makeup and wear nice clothing. In other words, even when I was truly stressed and exhausted I took some time to try to be normal. When he began to improve, I improved my rituals, taking a longer breakfast and walking to the hospital when I could. Writing this blog is also therapeutic for me – I process what’s happening while practicing my main talent – writing and messing about with photography, mini-videos and keeping fresh with computer skills entailed in blogging itself. At night, I now try to have quality quiet time alone with Martijn, making up for the scary, lonely month apart. And, I have a quiet, private prayer ritual I practice every night and have since I was a small child. All of this feeds me, feeds my soul – releases me.

Next steps, if Martijn continues to improve, will be to work again. I really miss consulting, coaching analyzing, planning and collaborating with colleagues and clients. The simple truth is, I enjoy problem solving and contributing my skills and talents to something meaningful. Meanwhile, sharing thoughts with you has filled in a small portion of this need, and being there for Martijn is by far the greatest contribution I think I can ever make, as is his contribution back to me. Without his valor his courage and even his ‘piss and vinegar’ I simply would be unable to participate in this healing journey. He is my coach and collaborator, and for now, I’m pretty lucky.