15:33 The bell that no one wants to hear
It was a call on Friday afternoon at 15:33. I was just preparing a kwis beer tasting. In a few minutes my afternoon changed from light to heavy. Since then, I've been trying to write down everything that happens. Not to get pity, but to keep my head and heart together. These blogs are my way of understanding, sharing and showing how I deal with them – sometimes serious, sometimes humorous, but always real.
“Life does not call in advance to ask if it is convenient.”
⁇ The suit of preparation
For a PET scan, you need to wear comfortable clothing without metal elements. That sounds simple, until you realise that ‘comfortable’ has suddenly become a medical term. No zipper, no button, no nail. As if I had to prepare for a flight, but without a destination. Sylvia, my unshakable logistical miracle, has ordered something that is somewhere between a house suit and a training suit. Soft, warm, and frankly: suspiciously inviting for a nap.
“You know it's serious if your outfit is approved by a hospital device.”
⁇ Love with a laundry label
When the order arrived, it felt like a birthday. Carton tearing, plastic tearing, dust feeling. Only there was an aftertaste to it: I would rather not have needed this gift. It was sweet, caring and painful at the same time. Sylvia, of course, meant well. She always does. But somewhere, deep down, it felt like she was wrapping me in something soft to keep the harsh reality at bay.
“Sometimes love is a house suit soft enough to wear a truth.”
The Humor of the Absurd
I catch myself thinking about what the nurses will think. ‘He matched his outfit to the scan!’. A thought that is both embarrassing and reassuring. Humor works here as a kind of mental airbag: It catches the blow just enough not to break. Because somewhere between the down-to-earth instructions (‘no metal’) and the underlying fear (‘what are they going to find?’), something of lightness must remain. Otherwise it suffocates.
“Sometimes laughter is just breathing with extra context.”
⁇ For now
For now, this is where I stand: between house suit and hope, between preparation and surrender. Tomorrow I'll lie still in a machine that knows more inside than I do about myself. And as I think about that, I put on my new outfit and I decide: If I have to wait for clarity, then please be soft and in style.
‘Heaviness may have light. And light sometimes weighs surprisingly much.”
English (UK)