White Easter 2008

Uncommon White Easter Monday, March 24, 2008, from our second story balcony

Martijn visits with brothers, Noel, Jan, and sisters-in-law, Irma and Leah, 

Good Friday, March 21st

Brother Noel gazes with Leiven as T'jeu talks with Uncle Martijn

We were blessed this holiday weekend by getting to spend quality time with Martijn's brother Jan, wife Irma and sons, Matthieu, known as T'jeu [pronounced T'chew] and Leiven, who live in Amersfoort nearby Amsterdam, as well as with his youngest brother, Noel and his wife, Leah, who live in Maastricht but haven't been part of family gatherings for over two years. Reconciliations are healing and holy. So Good Friday was really good.

The Thursday evening before good friends Frank and Jacqueline stopped by for gossip and conversation. Frank and Jan are old school day chums and Frank has adopted us into his own warm and encompassing circle. Jacqueline was a major part of moving in to this building a year ago, taking over the painting and generally helping us to settle in.

Saturday, good buddy Maurice Schoffelen transported me to an office center outlet to happily shop for my favorite things, like paper clips and hanging folders while Jan returned for a more private visit with his big brother. That night we entertained friends Yuri and Steven whom we haven't seen in almost a year. They divide their time between homes here in Maastricht, San Francisco and now, their newest abode in Brussels. 

Sunday, Easter Day, we enjoyed a quiet dinner at my mother-in-law, Geri's along with Marcel, Noel and Leah. But Martijn was feeling peaky and we left early. His pain has increased as has his overall discomfort in sitting, walking or laying. I'm generally trying to hold my own faltering emotions in check, now struggling to fight back bleak thoughts, instead trying to enjoy these moments since they are the only thing that is real in my otherwise abstract thought landscape. Mostly Martijn and I enjoy very quiet time together in this wonderful house.

I'm very grateful that my work for ECDPM can mostly be done from here allowing us to continue to be together. Tomorrow I head to The Hague, about a two and a half hour train trip, to meet the officials in the Dutch Ministry of Foreign Affairs who are major funders of ECDPM. Specifically I'll interview the Director General of International Cooperation, who plays an important part of the Ministry's development activities. 

Martijn's Reflections and Waiting for Tests

Martijn in January 2008, cafe atop the V&D department store, Maastricht

Life surely is one moment at a time.  Here we are savoring our small, precious moments of day-to-day activities. Martijn, thanks to the timely intervention of our wonderful general practitioner (huisarts), Dr. Maurice Bom,  is feeling more comfortable. Maurice paid a house call last Wednesday evening, the day our guests, Dave, David and Roberta departed. Two simple prescriptions, one to help relieve constipation, the other to reduce the swelling caused by the tumor, have made a big difference. Martijn's appetite has returned and he is determined to keep his weight up. This is important and good. 

The long waits for more tests, however, are not good. We are now scheduled for his PET/CT (cat) scan combination on March 28th. The biopsy was more than a week ago confirming that the cancer had returned. Now another long wait. These delays shake my beliefs that everything happens for a purpose - to teach us something. Rather I feel anxious and unhappy that we are forced to wait.

Yet, yesterday, a day filled with business related activities for me, I asked Martijn to begin to write me small notes with his famous, delightful illustrations (bet you didn't know about his drawing). Our intention is to build a small log of our feelings during this time. Yesterday's note contained a cute drawing of a cat face from a cushion we have that nestles on the couch in his study, and his reflection that: "I feel very calm and I think it has to do with my philosophy background." As always he enjoyed the stillness around him, but I was grateful to know that was made pleasurable with "the expectation that you will soon will come back and fill the space with another voice...." I share these feelings. I inhabit this space so happily with the knowledge of Martijn's quiet presence in another room. It is impossible to imagine it otherwise. 

Zero Gravity

Martijn, awaiting the new zero gravity chairs with his leg elevated the old fashioned way!

Good friend, Trish, tries one out. Lift off!

Martijn with Chris, cozy in the new chairs

Sometimes the best tact is to simply hang in there. While we await news from the hospital regarding the upcoming PET/Cat Scan availability, we just keep moving forward... or hanging upside down! A while back it was suggested the very best position for Martijn is with his feet elevated above his head due the condition of his lymph glands. After a lengthy search we discovered "The Perfect Chair" or the Zero Gravity chair which allows the user to recline much as an astronaut during launch reducing pressure to the spine and keeping the legs above the heart. Thanks to a very nice team at a furniture store in Aachen, Germany named Sequoia, we were able to import these beauties, made in Thailand, shipped from California to Germany to the Netherlands. Trish stopped by for a visit this past Friday and got to sample one. Today Martijn spent quality time with a close friend, Chris, from his university days. With so much in the balance it is simply marvelous to hang out with good friends. Our new chairs make visits more fun. Come try one. 

Savoring the Moments

Marcel celebrates 65 hard won years, March 6, 2008

There aren't sufficient words to describe the love, attention, affection and support provided by Marcel Winten, my mother-in-law, Geri's life partner. It almost is possible to overlook his steady presence in our extended family because Marcel prefers to inhabit the background in his quiet and self-effacing way. But he is truly the rock upon which our family is anchored. It was fortunate that Dave Hyde's arrival coincided with the traditional Dutch family-style celebration of Marcel's special birthday so that he could experience this most quintessential Dutch treat.

Aunt Eneke, Uncle Jan, Marcel and Aunt Sus

Here our family gathers in the cozy glow of my mother-in-law's living room, enjoying traditional Limburg vlaai (pie) and conversation.

Dave Hyde, David Meyers and Roberta Strickler, March 11, 2007

In a more traditional American moment, our great friends invade our kitchen to cook up some chicken and risotto magic. Martijn was ailing so we cancelled our fancy dinner reservations for this goodbye dinner to our guests as they took over all preparations and clean-up.

Maastricht's best kept secret- 5 star Schaefer-Hermse Restaurant Ceramique!

Who needs cramped seating and bothersome European smokers during an exquisite dinner? Not our happy crew. 

The Reading Room

A moment of restful reflection as Martijn, Dave and David contemplate world affairs in our relaxing 'reading room'.

In these days of doubt and fear for the future of Martijn's health we try to savor each day. Illness sometimes robs us of the joys of life. It is then critical that within capacity we live each day to its fullest. Enjoying the love and support of our family and friends eases the strain of focusing on the life-robbing cancer; rather, we are able to escape into the richness that their presence offers. Surely this extends the healing process.

Keep on Smiling

Martijn & his Mother Geri, at her home,  March 6, 2008, Marcel's 65th birthday celebration

Martijn, David Meyers, Roberta Strickler, Dave Hyde & Me

March 11, 2008

To understand bravery and spirit you are lucky if you know Martijn. His spirit is larger than most of our imaginations can fathom. It is as limitless as universe after universe. He teaches me about what it means to be a real human being, not a human doing. His first ambition is to make sure that his guests, his friends, his family are okay; then comes himself.

Due to plans made just a few short weeks ago when his health was going strong and his strength on the upswing, we invited our dear friends David and Roberta to stay here, coming for TEFAF, the huge art fair held in Maastricht and visiting other places of interest. When our other friend, Dave Hyde, asked if he should stop by on his way from Dubai back to Minneapolis, we said, sure, happily anticipating a houseful of good friends who had a common connection of having lived a long time in Chicago.

So it was with great sadness that Martijn had to bow out of most of our plans as his condition worsened extremely rapidly. Dave arrived on Thursday, the day the entire family celebrated Marcel's 65th birthday. We were pleased to attend and share the joy, but already Martijn was in pain.

Dave was perfect company, generously lending his ear and hugs, happily hanging out and just being. Saturday David and Roberta arrived. Originally we were all to meet them in Brussels for a day of sightseeing. Instead Dave served as my escort and the four of us enjoyed an afternoon. But I was eager to return home and so we had a nice dinner all together with Martijn. Sunday Barbara Greenberg and Pawel Kromholz had all of us for a big family style dinner at their home/art studio. Martijn joined but was greatly relieved to be back home that night. Monday only the four of us attended TEFAF, and Tuesday we cancelled a special dinner out while David and Roberta prepared a risotto and chicken feast.

Our visitors left today in a very poignant goodbye to Martijn. His condition is deteriorating almost by the day. Although he is keeping his brave face, the cancer has spread and most distressing, now his appetite is gone – the most dangerous thing that can happen in these cases. His medical doctor comes this evening to conduct a physical exam while we wait for the hospital to receive a certain chemical to conduct a full body scan to determine where and how many organs now are invaded. 

There is no good news here. The worse situation for me is seeing Martijn in real pain and distress. 

I will continue with my work for ECDPM since it doesn’t do any good for me to simply sit by, but as you can imagine this is a depressing and achingly sad time for us. Thank you for your comments, wishes, emails, love and support. Susan

The Last Leaf

William Sydney Porter, known in American Literature as O. Henry (1862-1910) was a prolific American short-story writer, a master of surprise endings, who wrote about the life of ordinary people in New York City. A twist of plot, which turns on an ironic or coincidental circumstance, is typical of O. Henry's stories. One of his most poignant is "The Last Leaf", the tale of painter who in a heroic gesture, saves the life of a character dying of pneumonia who is sure she will die once the last leaf on a trail of ivy outside the window blows away in the winter wind. Staying up all night the painter renders a leaf on the wall. She lives but the painter himself dies. Outside our home one of our newly planted thirty foot tall oak trees kept its lower branch of leaves all winter. I watched that cluster of leaves like O. Henry's character, hanging onto hope. Monday a week ago as I threw open our outer shutters I saw in horror that this cluster had finally succumbed to a terrible wind storm. It was the day Martijn asked me to feel the lump in his groin. Would that I could paint a last leaf to endure eternity.

Discouraging News

Martijn, February 14, 2008, our 12th anniversary

We were so hopeful just a month ago, but today Dr. Keymeulen confirmed that the cancer has spread to other lymph glands. Next week they will perform a full body scan to determine how far it has spread and what course of action can be undertaken. Lightening the blow today is the presence of our dear friend, David Hyde, visiting from Minneapolis. Dave stayed with us during the long wait at the cancer clinic post echo-gram and biopsy. Devastated describes my mood. We will post more information mid-next week. I almost don't have the heart to ask for your prayers as it feels, well.... But as always, we know you are there with us, and that does ease the terrible burden. Please take the time to tell someone you love, that you love them. Susan

Make My Day

Martijn, Carnival Cowboy, c. 1958, gunning for the bad guys

Cancer doesn't let one become complacent. Martijn, like the little sheriff pictured here, has been vigilant during his recovery, keeping a careful eye out for that 'baddest' of all bad guys, the big CA. So a few weeks ago when a troubling swelling in his impacted groin area hardened, he knew it was time to marshall his medical deputies into a posse. Today, we spent a bit of  time back the hospital, AZM, eliminating certain suspects. A big fear of Dr. Keymeulen was that the pressure of the lymph fluid or scar tissue had created thrombosis, hence phlebitis, a life threatening condition all surgeons want to avoid. One echo-gram eliminated that from the suspect list relieving all three of us.

Now Dr. Keymeulen will convene her colleagues to analyze what steps to take next. Martijn's swelling is not a good sign, and it interferes with his comfort and well-being. 

Like all good cowboys, Martijn will walk tall and face this culprit head on. And I am his faithful sidekick, there with love, humor and all the support I can muster. As always, we'll keep you posted and as always, keep us in your thoughts, meditations and prayers. 'Giddiup' and go get 'em!

Connecting and concern

Damian and Susan, February 25, 2007

Last week, Damian Gadzinowski, one of my University of Maastricht Master's Programme classmates paid a visit. It had been almost a year since we last met and it was good to catch up. Damian now works for the Warsaw satellite office of the European Institute for Public Administration, (EIPA), where we spent three months of our masters training. Since he's Polish, this means he's back on his own home soil after spending two years working in Brussels. We got to compare notes about work, our private lives and to reminisce about our student days. Its hard to believe that we're coming up to our three year reunion this June.

The past few weeks have been almost other-worldly. Martijn came down with the cold/flu that has decimated Maastricht, and I hear, the rest of the Western world. There are some other issues, too, related to the cancer and the surgery. Martijn has been so well and brave for the past months that it is very hard to see him in any distress. Tomorrow we head back to the clinic for a check up. Fingers crossed.