18 March 2017

just one day

Spring is just around the corner. The spuds are in the ground. Pulsatilla, almond trees and the little quince tree are busy flowering. The hedge is greening and the blackbirds are messing through the compost. Sitting outside for my solitary lunch today I spotted a butterfly, a painted lady (Vanessa cardui) just like the five we released last summer and decided that it had migrated back to us. And why not.

I am in a strange place. Hovering in between my spectacularly crashed house of cards, aka rehabilitation program, and the dreary reality of upped meds and a week of diagnostic testing ahead of me incl. hours pretending to read meaningful literature on my phone in waiting rooms.

In other words, the immunologist suggested I was not exactly fit enough for three weeks of six hours/day of physio and massage and jogging under water and whatnot and gave me the sternest of looks across her monitor and a short snappy lecture on treatment priorities and the dire potential of my current display of B - symptoms.  Of course I crumbled like a stale pretzel and almost apologised.

Part of me feels like a fake (what if these symptoms are only figments of my imagination?), while the remaing pitiful rest is trying to run away from admitting that I may have asked for too much.

That whole patience stuff? I'll never get it.
Whereas R - bless him - insists that I have been here before and will crawl out of it again,  successfully (with the help of the next round of monoclonal antibody therapy).

Meanwhile. I cycle along the river. Thirty minutes (or 6 amazing km) at a time pushing against the wind.  I may not be able to walk with two legs but who cares. Keeping up appearances. My mother taught me as much.

PS. I am not in pain any longer. Not really. Just finished week 12 of sick leave and the German health system based on the principle of a society of mutual solidarity (as opposed to charity or lottery or profit margins) is paying 90% of my salary. However, the required paper work is incredible. Who reads all these forms? Is this meant to be a new form of therapy?


  1. I have missed you. I am glad to find you here, mixed news and all.
    Listen to your husband. He knows you best.

  2. I am happy you are cared for in a society of mutual solidarity. It sounds so civilized. As for the rehab, it likely seems like too much because you are at the beginning. I look forward to hearing about how your strength returns as your work your way through it all. Remember you have that stubborn side. Let her come up for air.

  3. You are out cycling 6 km! That's the best news, that and the return of the Painted Lady. Your strength and motivation will carry you. I agree with R. Did you ever do the iChing? I was reminded the other day of one of my favorite hexagrams: Perseverance Furthers. Take care, Sabine.

  4. Bless you and R! I am remembering the image of you on the bus in Ireland and R cycling to catch up with the bus. Perseverance furthers! So good to know that the pain has subsided and that you are cycling by that beautiful river. That you are moving forward as circumstances allow.

  5. Right now I can't exercise beyond taking short walks. I don't know if I'll ever again be able to enjoy hiking and swimming. It does seem like your exercise regimen is a bit strenuous!
    Hope that you are continuing to get better.