The Verdict

I and my mom went to the neurologist today to obtain the results of the multiple exams she had to go through. The verdict came like a sledgehammer:

 'The lombal ponction fluid was not normal. The presence of anormal protein was detected. This and the results of the memory tests and all the other circumstances lead to the conclusion that she has Alzheimer's disease".

Now, this didn't come out of the blue. The aggravation of my mom's symptoms let little hope left for any positive diagnostic. Nevertheless, it knocked me down. While my mom sat there frozen, I melted down in tears. I cried and said that I was not able to face this. 

The doc stayed calm and said  that what needed to be done now is to get some help and support. Yeah, as if this was available.

I am fucking alone with this nightmare.

He also made a prescription for some Alzheimers medicine that does reduce a bit the symptoms. "but it's not funded by social security," he said. I know. It was recently taken out out of refunding eligibility because it is, citation :  "a comfort medicine" 

Holy fucking shit. The damn asshole who made that decision obviously has no clue what it is like to depend on even the tiniest relief.

I said to prescribe it anyway. We'd pay it.

My mom took it all with relative calm. She is shattered too, I know, it but it is hard to tell to which point she is really aware of the tragedy. I try my best not to show my grief too much. But it is incredibly hard, when all what you want to do is to cry and have someone to talk out  all your grief.

D-Day at American cemetery and memorial in Epinal

 Already 80 years!

The history of D-Day has been present in my life through tales, films, and commemorations. I find it hard to believe that such a long time has already passed.

My mom was born in February 1944. When the largest armada in history arrived at the coast of Normandy, she was only three months old. But the world she would grow up and live in was shaped right on this day. And not only hers, mine too. This is why I like to say we (our generations) are the children of Omaha Beach.

The outcome of this day has affected everything that has happened since, including the type of books we read, films we watch, and music we listen to. But most importantly the kind of opportunities and freedom we would have.
The world that was left in Western Europe after WW2 was certainly far from perfect. There were a lot of things still to gain a lot of rights to fight for. But so far, it was the best era we could be born into, this I am convinced by now.

80 years full of joy, sorrow, tears and struggle, love and victories. 

We could not go to Normandy to commemorate this day, but what we did was visiting the American cemetery in Epinal. The atmosphere is so dense and strong that you can almost hear the whispering of the spirits in this beautiful place.

All these young men who came from over the sea and who never had the opportunity the live the life we had. 

* We *  are their children. 

I brought some roses and small lilies from my house yard. Destinated for them all, but to lay down under only one cross. Which one? I let my intuition guide me. An energy took me across the field and drew me to a grave, where I finally stopped, knowing I was right. It was the grave of Richard M. Badgett jr. from Kentucky. Died On October 28, 1944

Dear Richard. We never met, you are from another time and another place. Still, I owe you so very much. Dear father of my world - a world that is about to end, but which was the best one we could have ; I thank you and I hope that some day, some place, we will meet. And then you will tell me all your stories.

Berck

Today was my arrival day at Berck sur Mer. I am at the hospitals Hotel for tonight and tomorrow I will enter the clinic. My initial thought was that the surgery would happen tomorrow, but it will actually take place Wednesday morning.

What a strange yet fascinating world here. Sand in the streets that are in the shadow of huge dunes which face the sea. The clinic has the look of a 19th century hotel for treatment purposes. For sure a very interesting place.

In the past days, I was busier looking after my mom's needs than preparing myself for this trip and the upcoming surgery. The most important thing was to ensure that she has all the necessary information and can find it whenever she needs to. She was becoming increasingly anxious, but I hoped I could manage it all in a way that nothing would trigger any stress for her.

On the road to Berck I sent her Whatsupp messages every hour. First I thought that all is okay, that she can stand the stress this way, but well - no.
 At some point she started to ask where I am, half an hour after my last message and then asked "when I return home". Needless to say that that  really knocked down. 

If it starts right away when I am not even arrived at  the clinic, how will things evolve when I am really under surgery? I am afraid that she will not be able to withstand the stress. But What can I do?  I know that it was probably wrong to let her alone at all. There is an aide coming for two hours oin tuesday, but surgery is on Wednesday and this day she will be alone all day long.
I feel awful guilty

One more step closer

The day of surgery approaches! 

I had a call with the anesthesiologist today. According to him, the entire intervention could take 2 hours. "But it's a much less risky surgery than your thyroid removal."

In fact, the clinic isn't in Amiens as I thought before, it's even farther away, in Berck sur Mer. An old 19 century building directly located at the seaside. I'm pleased that the location for my life-changing experience has some style.

Back at home I will try to make good use of the necessary time of rest and recover. I have to think about many things and try to shape the future within the narrow limits available. There are a lot of things that no longer work for me. I cannot get rid of all of it, but I may at least close some ways and open new ones.

At the moment, I am facing a period where I am being criticized by everyone. Although criticism is usually justified, it's becoming more difficult to endure. I wish someone would say something kind to me for a change. I came to realize during my Covid infection that I am truly on my own, without any support, and I accept that. But I still have to get some practice.

Willow Trees

The new Georgie Postcard is ready to be printed! It is named "Georgie and the little ship". But it could as well be titled "Georgie and the Willow Tree". 

I have been feeling a deeper connection with Willow trees for a while now. I really don't know why. I love their tense presence, their connection with water, and how their foliage and branches mingle under the soft summer wind.

On one of my last trips with the Donkey I camped on a site called "the willow grove" It was unforgettable and  in my mind, I often travel back to the very special place.

I may explore the secret world of willows more deeply this year.

The new Postcard

The Light in the Willow Trees at "La Sauleraie"

Another step forward

Today, the clinic gave me all the documents and a prescription for a blood analysis. Along with that, the questionary about my health, weight and height, all that stuff they usually ask. I have a vision meeting scheduled with the anesthesia doctor as well.

They even booked at the hotel for me to stay the night before my admission. I will travel to Amiens on March 25th and enter the hospital at 26th to undergo surgery the same morning.

So things finally got real. After all this time it feels - unreal. Although I am looking forward to it, I also have the usual fears that everyone experiences when having surgery.

I visualize how I will be on my way home on march 29, with my flat chest, free and happy. With a spring and summer ahead of me full of liberty and light.

Liberation Day

Today, the clinic in Amiens called me to let me know that they have finally  a spot for my Mastec. I have been on the waiting list for more than a year now.  At times, I didn't believe anymore that the whole thing would become real. 

All of a sudden the whole world looks different. I had a massive motivation boost. And in the same time I am fearful. What if it is just an illusion? I have waited for that literally since over 45 years now. In silent suffering.

Could it really be true that March 27 will mark the end of that era and the start of a new life?