“It is bad…Cancer… Not sure which type… Metastases everywhere…Acute problem with the spine… MRI is scheduled for today… Followed by a puncture procedure… Based on those results, we will get to know the type of cancer… In the meantime, spinal stabilization is warranted.”
[long pause]
My father does not have an outgoing personality. He occasionally shares a photo of a (German) coffee and cake combination which he (believes he) deserves during his frequent road cycle rides. Somehow, he hardly ever needs more than 10 words to strikingly describe (in writing) the situation he is in. Take his message from June 23, 2019 for example: “Life is heavy for a 63-year old man”. This message was accompanied by a picture of an enviable ice cream sundae, which I felt like downplaying by replying with a link to a disgusting video of a person devouring a disgracefully large plate of foie gras. Please do not ask why. This video just came to my mind when I saw his contribution to our family group chat. Apparently, I have my wicked ways and peculiarities, and I am clearly not afraid to show them.
Back to my father. My dear papa is a seemingly quiet and moderately talkative person. Until recently. More specifically, until two weeks ago. On Friday the 28th of June, he shared with us the text that is presented in quotation marks above (which was originally in Dutch of course). Since then, he shared with us more words in the family group app than he did in the five years before. And every time when I look at the sentences above, clearly written by a person in despair, they leave me speechless. I do not know what to say. I do not know how to react. I do not know what to think. I do not know what to do. I do not know what…, how…, if…, why… Heck, I just don’t know.
But what did I eventually do when I read his life-altering text? I called my partner, my father, my brother, my sister, and… my mother. For those who do not know yet, my father’s text did not apply to his own situation nor to that of my dear grandmother. No, it applied to the situation of my mother. The person who is the pivot of our family. The best-natured person I know. The person who probably deserves it the most to skip the line at Heaven’s gate (FYI: this is a reference to an enchanting song of one of my mother’s favorite musicians, i.e. Daniël Lohues). The person who Lady Fortuna assigned to be my mother. The person who raised my brother, sister, and me. Or just, mama.
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Pfff. I really thought that I would have addressed all kinds of research-related topics by now when I started blogging. When looking back on my last contributions, however, I realize that practically all of my contributions are somewhat related to my personal issues, or challenges if you will. Moreover, I am pretty sure that most of my upcoming contributions will be of such a nature as well. There are obviously many research-related topics that I want to address in due time, yet these are of lesser importance at the moment. Well, maybe my current personal issues are in some way related to my professional life as well. The fact is that I had difficulties in making the decision to go abroad to gain postdoctoral research experience for a very specific reason. Namely, that I realized that my parents would not live forever and that I felt like seizing as many good moments as possible with them, which would be rather easy when I lived close to them. My mother was actually one of the persons who convinced me to abandon this idea and to dare taking chances and risks in life. I fully embraced her opinion, which I by the way still do. However, at this very moment, I cannot help but realizing that the corresponding decision to move to Switzerland would lead to a feeling of utter unhappiness. In turn, this decision led to me making a very important and good decision in my life. And both things already happened within four weeks after I made the move to this beautiful country.
</intermezzo>
I read my father’s text message around lunch time, and I almost immediately decided to focus on my work in an attempt to suppress my emotional distress. I was, naturally, fully aware that this would only work temporarily and that I could probably not avoid getting struck by grief or maybe even a panic attack at some point. I thus figured that I simply needed to exhaust myself by working until I really could not work anymore, which ought to have helped me catch some sleep that night. I furthermore reasoned that that night would probably be the most difficult one, so I had to get it behind me as efficiently as possible. Then afterwards, I would be able to work towards Thursday the 4th of July for which I already had plane tickets to go to the Netherlands. All in all, it seemed like a good plan which just had to work. And surprise, surprise, it actually did…
…NOT…WORK…AT ALL!
The moment that my plan fell apart, was the moment that my partner called me when I just got home from work that evening. Specifically, my plan fell apart when she forced me to realize that several tumors in the lungs, tumors in multiple lymph nodes, a tumor in the liver, a tumor in the spinal column, and abnormally enlarged adrenal glands equal bad news. Very bad news. Okay, our mother is a strong woman, a never smoker, a very rare drinker, and, most of all, she looked like she is doing absolutely fine (she still does by the way, which is so bizarre). Thankfully, however, my partner convinced me not be fooled by what we all can see on the outside. The scans do not lie, and they reveal that an inconvenient truth lies underneath her skin which is real, urgent, and absolutely frightening.
So, my eyes where finally open. And as expected, I went completely nuts, already a few seconds after I hung up the phone. I can probably write a book about what happened that evening and what went through my mind, but I will keep it short for once. I will summarize my feelings from that evening and night in the following words: I never felt so alone in my entire life. Nine simple words. Thirty-nine characters in total. It could have been a text message that was written by my father. However, he would have probably only needed one word in this situation. A curse word. One that passed my lips multiple times on that cursed day in the Summer of 2019.
Writing about the loneliness I experienced, now already two weeks ago, still sends the shivers down my spine and brings back the tears in my eyes. These strong emotions are, however, not only evoked by the feelings associated with how horrible I felt back then, but also by the fact that my loneliness inspired me to make one of the best decisions, if not the best decision in my life. That is, I decided that I could not wait until the next Thursday to go back to my family. I needed to go as soon as possible. Or even better, I needed to go directly. I thus set out to find a somewhat satisfactory travel option which would bring me back into the arms of my mother. This endeavor was quite challenging and forced me to be quite creative, partially due to the idiotic and villainous no-show policy of a well-known Dutch aviation company which robs you from your return ticket if you do not take the first flight of a two-way ticket.
Anyway, I eventually managed to book a trip to the North somewhere around four in the morning. In the meantime, my supervisor proved to be very supportive and informed me by e-mail (well passed my normal bed time) that I would be granted all the time I needed to be with my family. I furthermore found some time to pack my bags, clean my studio (yes, I am a son of my mother), and drink about two liters of water to compensate for all the water I lost in the form of cold sweat and tears that evening. And by the time I could get to bed, I actually felt pretty good. I was even looking forward to the two hours of sleep which I could still get before my train would leave from Genève-Cornavin train station. Unfortunately, I was (and still am) stupid and decided to open the sun blinds of my studio when I was brushing my teeth. I was immediately confronted with a spectacular view on the north side of the Mont Blanc that was caressed by the light of a rising sun, and this view evoked an incomprehensible feeling of pure happiness. Needless to say, I could forget about catching sleep that night, and I sat down behind my desk and gazed at this majestic mountain (almost) until my alarm went off at 5:55 AM. Admittedly, I could have set the alarm 15 minutes later, but 6:10 AM just does not look as nice as 5:55 AM. For me, a little eye candy in the morning can bring joy, even on a very sad day.
So, the wheels on my train went round and round starting from 7:00 AM on a warm and sunny Saturday morning. Via Bern, Basel, Mannheim, and Dortmund, I arrived in Ahaus, a German village close to the Dutch border, shortly after five in the afternoon. On platform 1 of Ahaus’ train station, I immediately fell into the arms of my partner, my mother, my father, my brother, my sister, my brother’s girlfriend, and my sister’s boyfriend. I tried to show a brave face to the world, but my voice cracked, my eyes got watery, and I lost the ability to produce coherent sentences. “Car?” “There?” “Good.” And then my emotions hit my mute button.
At that very moment on the train station, I looked at my mother in a way I never did before which is a way I will never ever look at her again. I looked at her as a dying person. During the car ride to my parent’s place, I furthermore touched her shoulder with the idea that I needed to seize every opportunity to do so while she is still with us. However, I immediately decided that I would not allow myself think in that way anymore, not even once. What probably struck me the most, was the realization that I primarily traveled to the Netherlands for my own selfish reasons – apparently, I have major abandonment issues – rather than for supporting my mother and family in the first place. I felt like such a bad person when I realized this, and it took me quite some time to understand what happened there but also to convince myself that I am not all bad. Alright, I should not exaggerate here. I know that I am not all bad, and I definitely wanted to see my family as soon as possible to provide support and to stand tall together. Still, the action I took to see my mother before the doctors would start treating her was mostly prompted by my desire to keep seeing her as my mother and not as a patient. My subconscious mind decided that this could be achieved by taking the first train or flight possible, and I must admit that I do not regret this decision at all.
Let me put on my seven-league boots and bring us to the reality of today. I purposely am not touching upon any development regarding my mother’s situation via this platform (for now), as there is a group chat that is hosted by our family in which updates are shared in a centralized manner. For now, I would like to end with stating that I had a fantastic week with my family, and no one can take that away from us. With a good feeling, I furthermore traveled back to Geneva last Monday, and I think I have never been more productive in my work than I was this week. Of course, I should mention that I did not do any lab work as I am in a writing phase at the moment, but still, writing requires inspiration, and inspiration can only hit me when I have a clear and open mind. Furthermore, I feel so blessed with my work and my caring colleagues. Both my work and colleagues currently give me the energy to support my family in the best possible way. And yes, tough times lie ahead of us, and there will likely be many moments that I hate my life, the world, the Mont Blanc, the birds in the street, the Swiss chocolate stores, et cetera, et cetera. But for now, I can truthfully say that I am a happy kid who wants to do nothing more than placing my energy in the service of others, notably of our mother, our family, and all our loved ones.
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