{"id":2050,"date":"2025-11-09T11:09:48","date_gmt":"2025-11-09T10:09:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.data-pro.nu\/?p=2050"},"modified":"2025-11-09T11:18:46","modified_gmt":"2025-11-09T10:18:46","slug":"%f0%9f%a9%b5-kankerlicht-de-dag-dat-alles-klopte","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.data-pro.nu\/en\/%f0%9f%a9%b5-kankerlicht-de-dag-dat-alles-klopte\/","title":{"rendered":"\u2047 Cancer light \u2013 The day everything was right"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>\u2047 15:33 The bell that no one wants to hear<\/h3>\n

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 this, sometimes seriously, sometimes with humor, but always really.<\/p>\n

\n

Life doesn't call in advance to ask if it's convenient.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\u2047 An unexpected resting point<\/h3>\n

The days between surgery and radiation feel like a thin strip of land between two seas. Behind me the violence of cutting and stitching, before me the wave of what is yet to come. Every day the pain is a little less, but my energy remains fragile. I have to use it sparingly, as if I were a battery that no longer charges up to one hundred percent. Tuesday the mask will be fitted that will clamp me on the irradiation table every day. That thought alone makes my throat dry. So these days, these breaths, they feel precious.<\/p>\n

\n

Who knows what's coming, learns to breathe differently.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\"\"<\/a>\u2047 Noordwijk in November<\/h3>\n

We got in the car with the whole family, including Steijn. To Noordwijk, see the sea, feel the wind. November doesn't sound like beach weather, but the sun thought otherwise. We sat outside at a beach tent, without a coat even, face in the light. The rest at fries, I kept it at a smoothie. No coffee for me, but the warmth of the sun made everything right. We talked, laughed, watched the sea and the passing beach people. The sky was clear, the light friendly. No hospital, no plans, no future that weighs on us. Just now.<\/p>\n

\n

Sometimes happiness is nothing more than sunshine in November.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\u2047 Check-in and charging<\/h3>\n

After lunch we drove to our hotel and checked in. I immediately reassured myself. I learn that resting is not a luxury, but maintenance. My body asks for it kindly, but compellingly. Lie down for a moment, close your eyes, breathe back into a normal rhythm. It's strange how something as simple as lying flat for an hour suddenly feels like a strategic move. In that hotel bed, surrounded by the gentle buzz of my family, I thought: This is good. No hospital smell, no appointments, no obligations. Just live, without an agenda.<\/p>\n

\n

Rest is also a form of fighting.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\u2047 Pancakes and family\"\"<\/a><\/h3>\n

Around five we drove to the pancake house at Valkenburg airport. My parents arrived a little later than us, but soon the whole table was full: Myrthe, Frank, Sterre, Hilco, Naylah and Valko. The atmosphere was warm, the conversations were self-evident. I don't see my nieces and nephews often enough, but they are amazing people. There was laughter, sharing, giggling. Sylvia, meanwhile, looked at me with that look that says: \u201cYou waited too long with those painkillers.\u201d And she was right. The pancake with ice cream was surprisingly good to do, but the after dinner dip came mercilessly. While the rest ate quietly, I was already in the car, charging for the final part of the day.<\/p>\n

\n

Sometimes love is someone who knows you better than you do.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\u2047 Soldier of Orange<\/h3>\n

Then we drove on to the TheaterHangaar. The rest walked in, I stayed in the car for a while to save energy. At the beginning of the show, I went in, right on time. And I'm so glad I did. What a show. Everything was right: The music, the decor, the light, the story. For a moment I forgot my body, my throat, the mask that will soon enclose my face. I sat there, looked, felt, lived. At the end of the performance I sank into a chair, Sylvia got my coat, and we took a picture together. A reminder to fall back on when things get harder again.<\/p>\n

\n

There are moments that leave you empty, but in the most beautiful way imaginable.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\u2047 On the way back to our hotel<\/h3>\n

On the way back to our hotel it was quiet in the car. Not the awkward silence of fatigue, but the warm silence of satisfaction. Everyone was tired and satisfied, and that felt just right. Outside the night passed by, inside only the soft humming of the road sounded. I thought about how strange it is that happiness and vulnerability go so well together. It's like they need each other to really exist.<\/p>\n

\n

There is no greater medicine than the realization that you are alive.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\u2047 For now<\/h3>\n

Today we enter Leiden as a family. We don't know exactly who is going to do what, but one thing is certain: we want another day like this, just one more time together, without a hospital, without a timetable. It is still possible, and that makes it all the more valuable.<\/p>\n

\n

Gravity can have light. And light sometimes weighs surprisingly much.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u2047 15:33 The bell 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 feel sorry, but to 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