KARMA - - THURSDAY 28TH AUGUST - SUNSHINE COAST UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL

 

It was only while sitting waiting for surgery admission that we noticed the brand of my Mother’s ex wheelchair, was “Karma”.   The irony of that particular brand sent us reflecting on whether indeed the “Karma” that we were experiencing was of the good type or the other, and for the life us, we couldn’t see anything bad (apart from the obvious) that we had experienced getting to this point.  

Even the fact that despite our misgivings at the time, that wheelchair had been stored in my brother’s garage since our matriarch’s demise, turned out to be a masterstroke of decision making on his part.   At every turn our experiences have been positive, none more so than when the surgeon visited on his rounds yesterday morning, his face beaming and announced “your foot is now straight”.   He followed up with “Did you know you have five broken toes as well?”

We are not sure what possesses anyone to stand for several hours untangling other people’s nerves and tendons, all the while wrangling bits of bone to point them in directions they were reluctant to point, inserting bits of wire, screws and plates along the way, but he assured us it’s great fun and very satisfying, and we are more than grateful for that...

…  Now we are home, together again, one week since we landed in Aus, one of us in a position that she will remain in for the next two weeks, recumbent in a state of quasi-traction, the other busily ensuring that everything in her peripheral vision at least, is kept in the manner to which she is accustomed, while our house slowly accumulates all the accessories of a rehabilitation facility.

The prognosis such as it is, will be subject to progress over these coming fourteen days, and we will both be working to ensure that Doctor's orders are scrupulously observed.

All going well, he says everything should be functioning as it should within eighteen months.  

On the one hand, this is a little disappointing, but objectively it’s far better than nineteen months, or for that matter not at all.  

As for that Karma thing?  Well there's probably not going to be a lot to report on over the next month or so, unless the progress from crutches to walking hopper to knee scooter is riveting for some, so we'll all get to spend a bit of time doing other things!

“LIFE IS JUST A BOWL OF ALL BRAN” - - SATURDAY 23RD AUGUST - KOKSIJDE TO DICKY BEACH

 

As the Small Faces reminded us “you wake up every morning and it’s there, it’s all about, enjoy it…”. I wonder if any of them had ever flown across the breadth of the planet, because if they had, they’d know it’s not just in the morning that you wake up, as your body clock refuses to accept messages from your brain. 

Here we are upside down and back to front, 16,344 km from where our phone last saw her AirPods, after losing a day and not sleeping for a couple more just for good measure.   We can’t thank the airline staff enough for their assistance on the way.  Despite our concerns, the means to overcome every obstacle seemed to materialise just as we needed it.

As we opened the front door of our house, we were of course confronted by the last obstacle between us and life at home, the staircase to our actual living space. The other of us made simple work of scooting up our stairs on her bottom while holding one leg above her shoulders in a manner somewhat reminiscent of a young contortionist we had once seen perform in Mongolia.   

We were grateful that our now completely depleted stocks of adrenaline had done their job and would have a chance to recover in their own good time, we could take a deep breath, relax and have a good lie down, or so we thought.  The time was just after nine, it was Thursday morning, so there was no harm in seeing if the Doctor had a cancellation.

By three, we’d caused said doctor some consternation, and had been referred to a specialist, by eight (PM) the specialist had reviewed our Dutch documents and ordered scans.  By midday Friday, barely twenty four hours after landing, arrangements had been made for one of us to have a nice rest in hospital along with another round of surgery on that miscreant foot of hers.

On the one hand, this was a bit disappointing, as the time clock on healing starts again next Tuesday, but on the other, it would appear to be another in a very long line of great luck that circumstances have allowed us to arrange hospital admissions, digest a ream of paperwork, obtain a wheel chair, shower seat other mobility accoutrements and a new pair of crutches, all before the sun had set for the third time since our arrival, even while our somehow keeping our heads just clear enough to do the job.

It’s fair to say that even with two of our brood to help with the heavy lifting as well as everything else, the reserve tank of energy is sitting on empty.  With just a dash of the same luck, when we wake up tomorrow it will be very late in the morning, perhaps too late even for a bowl of All Bran, and once again we can get on with enjoying all that we have around us.

TIME FOR SOME REFLECTION - - TUESDAY 19TH AUGUST - KOKSIJDE

Normally, at this time of our travels, we’d post an image of an aeroplane taken somewhere in transit.   

More correctly, normally we’d only be halfway through our travels so that wouldn’t be anywhere near happening, yet here we are, relaxed after a nice snack in the Brussels Airport Lounge, somewhat discombobulated, unsure of how it all came to this!

We expect that our changed logistical circumstances may well prevent an update for a week or two so here we sit, ruminating on the events of the past month or so, completely overwhelmed as we think of the support we received at every turn by dear friends and complete strangers.

We are sitting, thinking thoughts of gratitude and affection for all who have provided help and wishes over the past few weeks.   It’s been a funny time, we’ve enjoyed almost every minute of it despite the obvious impairment.  

While we don’t want this to sound like an awards night speech, we can’t begin to thank those who have changed their plans just to be at our side, whether that be to cheer us up a bit, to help us on our way, or to lend a hand in the starvation prevention department.   

Normally, at this time of our travels, we’d sign off till next time, but perhaps that would leave far too many well-wishers on something of a cliff-edge.  There are still so many questions as yet unanswered.

Will she recover in time to once again take command of the good ship Joyeux in a summer time in the future?   Will his culinary skills improve sufficiently so that they survive until that summer?

The answer to all these questions and more may well be coming soon to this very blog.

We shall have to see.

THE MANNER TO WHICH SHE COULD EASILY BECOME ACCUSTOMED- - MONDAY 18TH AUGUST - DIKSMUIDE

No sooner had one of us drifted off to sleep last night than he was awakened by the first grey sky of dawn.   Feeling a little cheated but none the less having things to do, people to contact, places to go, he reached for the computer.   Before he could say “it’s probably breakfast time”, he’d checked in for tomorrow’s flights, confirmed the driver and wheelchair instructions, and given Dave and Thijs fair warning that we “might” be half an hour late.  By then onto his third coffee, with the last load of towels already in the dryer, he was ready to face the final countdown.

The other did a wonderful job of hiding her frustration at not being able to take part in the kerfuffle, although the angst of not being able to help was telling to those aboard who’d known her for more than half a century.  

As we shipped her from tidy part of boat to not yet tidy and back again she not once complained.  Sighed perhaps, groaned a bit under the effort, but generally spent her time quietly worrying enough for both of us as to how exactly we were going to get her ashore when the time came.

When the time came, albeit an hour or two later than we might have predicted, but with everything more or less shipshape and “good enough” to leave, Thijs miraculously appeared seemingly out of thin air with a wheelchair he’d conjured up using some sort of boatyard magic.

After bundling her into Dave and Ria’s car, with what will be all of our possessions for the next day or two, and arriving safely in their apartment carpark, she had to face her next test.  She has not actually “walked” more than a few steps on dry land with the aid of crutches in five weeks.   Figuring it would probably be no more difficult than using them in a confined, rocking space that is the boat, with just a little assistance she found herself ensconced on a rather sumptuous couch in a living room that would be her place in the world for the next two dozen hours.

We had done it.  We’d packed up, and were on our way and it was only mid afternoon.   Without warning, now within spitting distance of boarding a flight home, all of the events of the past weeks enveloped us with an enormous aching tiredness.

So we did what any sensible person would do, and settled in for a lovely, completely therapeutic snooze.

WHEN THE GOING GETS TOUGH - - SUNDAY 17TH AUGUST - DIKSMUIDE

Some people see things as they are and ask why?  The other of us sees things as they could be and quietly suggests that if one is to be finished all his jobs by midday tomorrow when the boat is due to come out of the water, now would probably be a good time for him to pull his finger out, as the saying goes.

He on the other hand, had everything quietly under control, he thought.   With two washing machines on the go, a dryer chugging away in the Harbour Master’s office, a vacuum cleaner that won’t say die, and an early morning wash of the outside of the boat complete, ably assisted by last night’s precipitation, how hard can this packing and wintering business possibly be?

Thanks to his carelessness in over catering the green curry a month ago, dinner was defrosting itself while the mountain of chaos slowly became a mole hill.

By the morning, there would be only the last few jobs to do, just a few minutes that both silently understood would turn to hours, but she would sleep soundly unworried by the approaching deadline, he would also sleep soundly to tired to worry about anything at all.

COMING DOWN- - SATURDAY 16TH AUGUST - DIKSMUIDE

Normally we give ourselves a week to pack and clean and regroup.  This allows us to take into account the vagaries of the weather as well as those of our own.

By the time we had run a few small errands this morning involving hardware stores and boatyards, and had our last farewell hugs, we were down to less than two days, with the half day of our actual departure in reserve.

By that time the rain had set in, accompanied by that kind of emptiness that fills a small boat when a month or more of what felt decidedly like partying despite the obvious distraction sitting foot up in the corner, suddenly comes to an end.

Nothing we did or said could motivate us to get started, even the one with the motivation stick was reluctant to reach for it let alone wave it in the other’s direction while he sat staring into space, deep in his wonderings and procrastination.

A man (and woman) has to eat, so a slightly less than quick walk downtown to drink in the last of the town for the year, and to pick up some bread and maybe a nice piece of cake seemed in order.

The cake, a whopping slice of Mokka Cream, was just what the doctor ordered.  As we lingered much longer than we normally would over our late morning coffee, we wondered together whether the doctor order rest as well.

There’s no point in washing anything in this rain.   

Perhaps one of us can get it all sorted in a day?

HIPPOPOTOMUS - - FRIDAY 15TH AUGUST - OUDENBURG TO DIKSMUIDE

It’s a testament perhaps to where our minds were, that on a near perfect cruising day, when everything went right, there were no delays anywhere, every bridge and lock opened for us metres before we arrived, and as far as we can recall the sun shone brightly all day, that the only image that illustrates any part of it, is the one taken to remember where the car was parked in Bruges.

The first bridge opened at eight this morning, and with a full crew aboard to keep the breakfast and coffee coming while underway, we were there precisely on time.  Entirely as planned we were safely in our berth in Diksumide by ten past lunch o’clock, the boys set off for Bruges by train to retrieve the car and the girls did whatever girls do when left to their own devices for the afternoon.

Today was a holiday for most, and a minor inconvenience for those intent on foraging for dinner when all of the convenience stores are closed.

Fortunately, the station in Bruges is large enough to contain one of those “Mini” convenience markets, which even by mid afternoon held enough fresh produce for Pat to apply his magic later in the evening.

We discovered the car right where we left it right next to the column with the hippopotamus on it, which was fortunate, as not long afterwards we discovered that all of the columns had the same smiling hippo, the meaning of which may well remain one of life’s great mysteries.

As the evening closed in, we were enjoying ourselves immensely I think, all four of us, ignoring the hippo in the room; the countdown clock ticking away in the corner was down to the number two.