I still remember vaguely from morning, that the boys woke up and were preparing for the day, but I kept on sleeping. The next picture is one of my friends knocking on the glass-door of my room from the terrace. I opened the door, and the freezing cold air blew into my face. He asked me if I wanted to join him, but I said a firm no. I didn’t want to go anywhere. He went back skiing on the mountain, and I went back to sleep. I only woke up a few hours later. I haven’t had such a good long sleep for a very long time.
It had been a long hard week already, and it was only Thursday afternoon, but I knew the pleasant part of it was going to start, because we were going to go skiing with my friends next day. Wednesday morning we had brought father to the Oncology Institute to stay there for the first time, after another very difficult night. It was a relief to me, after the previous days, when he had been feeling really terrible. He could hardly sleep because of the pain and the water in his lungs again. My mother was really stressed out after those horrible nights they had suffered together. It was a relief to all of us – maybe even to father – when his oncologist told me to bring him in the hospital and let them treat and take care of him there. She told me that they were going to clean his lungs and fix whatever they can. So my father had got into good hands, my mother was able to sleep again, and I could go on my trip more peacefully, with less worry.
Last evening I felt quite good, but I couldn’t fall asleep until very late, so I knew waking up this morning will be difficult. And it was, especially because I knew today was going be a very hard day. I started at the hospital in the city, meeting with my father’s oncologist, in order to talk about the results of the latest CT-scan and the things to come. Meanwhile my father had to go to the nearest hospital from their home with my mother, because he had water in his lungs, that had to be drawn out. I decided to turn off every communication tools, until I can talk to his oncologiest. Then I wanted to go home to them and tell them about the certainly bad news.
God can see my soul, I am fighting so hard day in and day out, to keep myself together, to live a healthy life, in the middle of elemental storms attacking from all directions.
I’ve read a book of a psychiatrist, who had a patient, a young woman. She was always complaining whining, although she had everything to be happy, to live a successful life. But instead, she was always blaming others for her misery and failures, and never did the things she sould have done. He asked her if she had ever seen a disabled child trying to draw. The woman didn’t understand the question. He explained it to her: the child grabs the pencil so strong that it almost breaks in half, his little eyes google, they want to fall off their places, his vein wants to blow up in his neck, his tongue lolls out of his mouth. He hasn’t got much from God, but he uses every little drop of what he has, in order to create something on that paper. He is fighting with all his parts. And what does the woman do? She got everything, but all she does is crying that nothing works for her. If one day this little child meets God, I can see, that he is told: “Good job, little boy, you really did everything you could.”
It’s been a year now that we are fighting persistently with my father’s disease, that is increasingly difficult for the whole family. And the worst of it all is that no matter how hard it is, no matter how we are all running out of strength and energy, we all know that it is always getting even worse. The worst is yet to come: the results of the latest CT, losing all our hope terminally and irreversibly, telling my father that he is going to die in weeks or months, waiting for death to come, and finally his death and his funeral, and everything that goes with it. So I think I can surely state, that the worst is yet to come.
It is Saturday afternoon, I am home at my parents, we are just after lunch, and we are setting out with my mother for the neighbour city to settle the phone-subscription of the family. I am already tense and nervous enough, even the crowd is frustrating to me at the plaza. Getting closer to the store, I am getting steamed up, but I restrain myself, and tell the slightly complicated story about what we want to arrange here. I also show the authorization paper, that we wrote so that my poor sick and weak father can stay at home. The girl interrupts me immediately, claiming that they only accept authorizations signed by a public notary. We didn’t have that of course, because getting that is far more complicated and troublesome than coming here with my father. This was the point where something broke in me. I turned back to ask if I can sign the papers in the name of my father, but they refused it, because it is too risky for them to let that happen. My mind went blank, I knew that I can’t think and cope any more. We went back home with my mother, and told the bad news to father. Then we decided (actually they decided because I wasn’t in the state of making decisions) that we don’t have a choice but to go back together, with my father.
It is Monday morning. I went to sleep yesterday with the feeling that I am going to have a great day today. And it all started accordingly. I woke up nice and refreshed. I arrived at work on time, everything went perfectly. Until my stomach flinched, when my boss asked me about the delay of my document-management project, for which he hadn’t given me enough people to work on it for a year now. It was really hard to keep calm and balanced, but after that everything went back to normal.
I came home late to work some more, then two colleagues came to me to talk about our private little business venture. I went down to open the garage for them, and I saw that they had put a wheel clamp on my car, in front of my own garage. I saw that someone had put a black bag on the table that permitted parking. I went completely out of my mind, I lost the ground under my feet, my heart started pounding. I spent the whole meeting not really knowing where I was. Even an hour later, when I was going to the post office to pay the penalty, I had to take deep breaths to be able to control myself.
All this on a day that seemed to be so perfect, for a while…