Preparations for Tomorrow

It's almost midnight here right now and I'm really impatient for tomorrow.

So, let me check one more time if everything's in order.

Yes -- the flowers are neatly arranged and the decoration is pretty I think.

The champagne stands in the fridge and my best dress hangs already ready to wear it tomorrow to celebrate the “special” event!

Oh oh, I almost forgot something!

I still have to polish my fingernails!:):)

Now that this is fixed I'm going to sleep.

I still wish you all a good night and have sweet dreams!

Till tomorrow.:)

It's a Special Day

To day May, 25 it would have been Pipke's fifteenth birthday but sadly -- it could not be.

She has fought so brave until the bitter end but she could no more, her passing away was inevitable. If our love could have saved her, she would never have died.

This picture of her was taken on her birthday last year. We were grateful on that moment that she pulled through once again (for the 18^th time).

Look at those sweet eyes, how the years are showing.

We were so happy that we could have her among us yet one more Summer.

Actually you had to hold your animal friend in your arms when it was time to put it to sleep to know what it means that someone says: happiness is pets.

Her loss was heartbreaking - but after the initial sorrow I now have her wonderful memories.

I will remember Pipke with great gratitude for being my faithful mate, my best friend my everything.

And now after so much sadness something to cheer up!

I want to end this post with this funny note. LOL.

Isn't it funny, It's really appropriate *for us.

Now I'm going to see Pipke's film pictures. I'm looking now at a sunny day, we are cleaning the pond and Pipke is cheerful and lively. She was in the prime of her life. These were such happy days folks! (I will show these film pictures later in her life story.)

Looking at these images can make me smile again and I'm really looking forward to next Monday, the day that I will reveal my surprice.

See you.

Fran

PS: is this correct or must it be: at or on?

In Dutch we would say: at us.

For the Last Time - Sifting Through Ideas

It's not that I am inconstant but I think I'm going to chance my *plan again (*how to publish the story).

Some comments on my blog and also emails from my blogger friends have brought me on a better idea. Actually, once before I had already thought on that idea, although -- mine was a little different, so I was still doubting.

The suggestions from my blogger friends made me sure that the new idea will work.

So – thanks to you my friends I have now made a dicision.

I can't tell you yet what my "new plan" is, but I will reveal it on Monday, May 31.

I hope to surprise you.

Meanwhile, stay tuned!

Till soon

Fran

A Little Angel with Wings of Lead

This title will raise many question marks. So – I will make it clear to you immediately.

This little Angel was I.

In my post: "why it took so long", I've told you about my illness.

One of the first symptoms stands still imprinted in my memory and printed a stamp on the rest of my life.

It was not only this first experience of my illness which I do remember so well, but also the “hardness” of people on that particular day had a big impact on me.

I must have been almost 10 years old. I, and also four other girls, was chosen to act as an Angel in a ceremony of my school's proclamation.

Oh – I was so proud and eager to wear a beautiful angel gown and also large angel wings covered with white feathers.

A few days before the ceremony we had a few short repetitions and it seemed that it would become a beautiful spectacle.

Then came the day where I was so looking forward to. First we got dressed. Our angel gown was made of white shining satin. It was really marvelous. Thereafter they attached the angel wings on our shoulder. They were large and although they were covered with white feathers, they seemed pretty heavy to me.

Meanwhile the ceremony had started, and while the music sounded heavenly, we – the angels, had to mount the stairs very dignified with folded hands.

Oh – I was so proud to stand there at the podium.

After a while, we had to sit on our knees in the praying position with our hands folded on a small platform at a podium which was situated more than three meters high.
After almost twenty minutes sitting there, on a hard wooden board floor, oh – my knees started to feel so painful.

I really got problems to stay in this position. I also could no longer hold my folded hands up. I started to get so much pain in my whole body that I was almost going to faint.

I couldn't understand that the other girls could sit on their knees so long – without having problems. Also my shoulders started to ache.

Those angel wings were so heavy for my little body. It became too much for me.

It seemed almost if I was wearing “*Jumbo” wings instead of “angel” wings!

Because I was afraid that I would faint and fall down from the platform I went to sit on my behind ... and oh oh ... that I better could not have done – that spoiled the total picture, the grand finale!

One of the five angels was sitting down on her bottom and leaning on her arms.

So now and then I tried to sit upon my knees again, I tried again to be a real angel, but I could endure the pain no longer. So, for the rest of the ceremony (almost thirty minutes) I sat there on my bottom, with painful shoulders and frightened that I would faint.

(Actually – now I still can't understand why there was no one wondering what was happening to me, why no one came to help me.)

Oh I was so glad that the ceremony was over. So, I came down the ladder off the podium together with the other girls, when suddenly I heard a very vicious voice. It was my teacher. She was yelling and shouting very furious, pointing her finger at me: “hey....you there” she yelled.

The rest you can guess. There followed a real flood of abuse.

It frightened me so much – how angry she was – without asking me “why” I went sitting down that the most shameful thing happened to me. Purely out of fear I peed in my pants and wet, my socks, my shoes, and also my beautiful angel gown.

Oh -- I was so embarrassed! I cried – not only because I had so much pain but also because she was so cruel to me. I had always been a very exemplary child, this was the first time she had a problem with me and it happened against my will. I had not planned this. I felt myself so guilty. I had ruined not only the total picture but also my beautiful angel gown!

What must have been a beautiful experience for me, and I was so looking forward to, ended for me in a “real nightmare”.

She gave me no chance to explain it. She was only very furious at me, she was so insensitive! Even being such a little child I could not understand that someone could be so heartless and “this” experience became the base of my sensitivity for the rest of my life! I became a very sensitive person especially towards everything that's defenseless, that's vulnerable or in need, because I experienced it: I was vulnerable and in need, and even on that moment I couldn't count on my teacher's apprehension.

On these two pictures taken one month after my angel experience, you see me as a lively happy and healthy child, but it's not all what it seems because: at this very moment I was ill again.

(Oh folks, I almost can't believe it. This is now already 57 years ago ... and I still run.)

This day my father came to visit me on my summer camp and he took these pictures. While all the other girls were playing outside, my father had to wait to see me because I was sleeping upstairs in the middle of the day because I felt myself so tired.

Also, the outside of my left ear shell was covered with large blisters and it was very painful. So they had to wake me up.

( Actually, I can't remember that they went to a doctor with me, but probably it was because I never complained.)

And now – that I became so much older more and more I must think back on my mother.

She had not an easy life. She had to raise three little children while she also had to run a garment store. She worked very hard in her life.

She also became ill at a young age, and then I (who was only 9 or 10 years old) had to take care for her. She must have been 38 years when there went something wrong with her blood (with me the same thing happened in 1998). As I already told you, my father kept me home from school several times (for almost a whole week) because my mother had to have blood transfusions or needed help because she was too ill to stay alone at home.

It must have been a hard time for her and now I understand “why” she was never present when there was a school play or a proclamation at my school!

It was not easy to understand this as a child, and on that area I always felt myself a little ignored and even a little neglected.

Nevertheless -- now I know that she did all she could!

I still can see my mom sitting, playing the piano in the Sunday afternoons when I was little!

These were very happy moments: while she played the piano we sang all together the refrain of the popular war song titled: “It's a long way to Tipperary”! (Actually we sang a funny slang version of it.:) In my mind I still can hear how funny that sounded.)

But after playing some time her hands started to tremble. She began to wring and rub them, but it didn't help. She couldn't play further because she had too much pain in her hands.

So after some time she started to play less and less, and after only a few years they moved the piano to an other room. From then on the piano stayed closed, it only went open so now and then for my little sister to playfully strum on it.

From then on my mother played no longer the piano!

Anyhow after so many years I still feel myself guilty because we all teased her, we all said “there was always something” with her. We couldn't understand that she had problems, because often you couldn't see that there was something wrong with her, that she was ill. We only saw her taking painkillers, the one after the other like it were candies!

Therefore as a tribute to my mother: here's a picture of her playing the piano in happier and better times, still healthy!

Born in 1915 -- died in 1976

I hope she forgives me … now I understand!

Now I also feel (a little) what she must have felt, but she was much worse than I.

I am the one who came better off, I'm already seven years older than she became!

PS: I promise you (before you get enough of it, and I could understand if you do), this will be the last time that I talk about my illness. There are more pleasant things to talk about.

Now I'm going to sift trough ideas for Pipke's life story and I have a very good one!

Have a guess?

Till soon

Planning the Future

I had a dream …. but unfortunately!

Until now – that dream will not come true, but I reconcile myself with it, I can't expect mirakels. Probably my aim was too high!

As I wrote on January 14, 2010 in my post: “Starting to Doubt”, I planned to donate Pipke's life story to a Charity Cause for Animals, but unfortunate it seems that I was not the only one who made such proposal to them. They said that it's their policy to regretfully decline all such offers.

I do understand that they follow a policy and that they can make no exception.

Some answered very polite and I was really pleased to hear that they found it a “*heartwarming” story. (I've only sent them a few parts of the story of course.) To hear *this made me really glad. Pipke touched their hearts, and that's my aim, to touch many hearts, and to share what we've experienced with others.

Now I'm planning how I will publish the story as a book on my blog.

It became a long story, 175 pages (in a normal book size) not all pictures and film pictures included.

So – I was thinking that: it will be easy for you that it will be possible to follow the story as you follow a story in a book. To make that possible I think it will be the best that I classify the story separately under: “Pipke's life story”, and in order that the story evolves I will add a character.

I'll give you an example: “Pipke's life story a”, “Pipke's life story b”. In this way it will appear in the sidebar and it will be possible for you to follow it easily.

(I hope that this explanation makes it clear for you.:)

Anyhow, do know – that I'm not at all a writers talent, I only tried to do my best and I hope you will take that into account, but actually – I think in this case it's “Pipke's story” that counts, that's the most important.

The subeditor has only corrected my grammar mistakes, she didn't change the text, otherwise it would have been no longer my story.

I've worked on the story almost half a year and I started to write on it when Pipke was still alive, when I didn't know “the end” yet.

I never could have thought that it would be such a traumatic experience for me.

To share her story with others will ease the pain of her loss.

So, I hope you'll all be there when I start the story.

This will then be a “BLOG BOOK”:) instead of a real book, and I hope you will appreciate it.

I will let you know the exact date.

Till soon

PS: Do you think this a good plan?

Let me know if you have a better one to publish it on a blog.

Find the Way to Waylon!

Only a few days ago I discovered a very special blog dedicated to a very special dog.

His name was: Waylon.

It's such a very touching story that I want to share it with you. (See link under in this post.)

I saw a beautiful slide show about him. It brought me to tears.

As a tribute to this lovely dog, I've chosen this day in particular to publish this post because April the 18^th is the anniversary of his dead. He will be missed for ever!

This is a part that Tabitha wrote about her dear friend:

WAYLON

April 9, 1997- April 18, 2006


Forever in my heart.

Words could never describe how I feel about Waylon. 


He was more than a dog, more than a best friend - he was part of my soul, part of who I am.

I wish you strength today Tabitha, I know you will need it.

To the followers and readers: may I invite you to go to this blog and click on the picture above at the right side to look at the beautifull montage.

I'm sure Waylon will also conquer your heart!

Why it Took so Long

Long I've hesitated “if” I should talk about this.

I've written and finished this post already in July last year. If I want to explain you why it took so long time before I started to learn to work with the computer and began to surf on the Web, then I must broach a subject that many of you rather don't like to read about and that's: illness.

There are more pleasant subjects to talk about, but illness is a part of my life.

What my illness is: till now – no doctor can tell it, and I consulted many.

They “assume” that I have an autoimmune disease, that my immune system is over active and that it attacks my own body. The only thing that I can do against it is to take inflammation inhibitors, but they only suppress the symptoms, they don't cure. So – I don't take them often because the side effects are sometimes very heavy. Of course I also can take painkillers, but that's bad for my stomach, therefore I take them not too often.

So I try to live with it and make the best of it.

I have many types of symptoms and I will not enumerate them all. I shall try not to go too much in detail.

The first symptoms started already at a young age, (although at that time they were very mild).

One thing is certain: I'm not alone in the family. My mother had the same problems. (When I was a young girl, my parents kept me home from school to take care for my sick mother.) My sister who's five years younger than I, is the “worst“ case in the family.

She was only 38 years old when she had to give up her work completely. She had periods that she had to sit in a wheelchair because she could no longer walk. She worked at a bank office where she had to sit for long times in the same position on her desk, and this became a very big problem for her.

For me: that's also “one” of my problems and “that's” why it took so long time before I learned to work with the computer! I've always postponed it, I've always avoided to sit still too long .

Because of this, I had to give up most of my hobby's such as: oil painting, needlework, home decoration, gardening etc.

But – I consider myself lucky – I still can run!

I even think that “running” is my salvation!

It seems as if my body needs oxygen and that's what I'm getting when I run. I have to move my body without using too much force.

The power of my muscles (especially in my arms) is deteriorated, I can't carry heavy objects. When I work, I must always work with the breaks on. When I don't listen to my body then I have to pay the bill later. Sometimes, when I have done too much (and that's already not much) it can be that at once: I can't stand on a leg or raise up an arm. It can be also that: without having problems the day before, when I wake up the next morning I can't get out my bed without help and then I can't even putt on my own cloths.

Sitting behind the computer can be very difficult for me because after a while my whole body can start to feel very painful. Then it can be that I can't keep my head upright … and I must lay down, and yes, since I've started to work with the computer I had to pay the bill many times.

It's so difficult to find the right balance between rest and work because working long and also sitting or lying still for long time isn't good for me.

Because of this my social life is really restricted, and sometimes I can't go to a restaurant or a theater. It has been, that I went to a theater but then afterwards I needed a whole week to recuperate.

Sometimes I can't even drive the car, it can be a real torture. Then I can't keep my feet on the pedals because after a while I get cramps in my legs or feet, and that makes it even dangerous to drive.

What makes my problems worse: I like working, I like doing things!

But, I have the “luck” that sometimes I have no problems for months.

Then it seems like I was never ill before.

What makes my illness “incomprehensible” is that: in 1988 (then I was 45 years old) I even had a few months that I could run almost 285 km per month! I still can't believe it and I even thought that I was wrong. For this reason I looked it up, and yes … it is true!

Now I'm almost 67 years old and if I'm not ill, I still run 6 km every other day. After I've ran I must rest and then I sleep at least an hour or so. If I can't run, then I try to walk the same distance, and then I can feel myself so much better. I started to run 29 years ago.

You must know, in earlier times I could move mountains! I was the interior decorator and the paperhanger in the family. I papered my own place and also several rooms of my parents and my son's house.

I made the curtains and the roman blinds, for several rooms of my home and also for my son's whole house. Sometimes I also made my own cloths.

During the construction of our new house in 1994, we installed the electricity and we built our garden house ourselves. I was my husband's “assistant” electrician and bricklayer, I liked working together.

But then came1998, the worst year in my life!

Already a few months before I had felt myself very bad and exhausted. Going up the stairs felt like climbing up a mountain and I could run no longer
I was hospitalized that year in January for a whole month. Doctors assumed that I had had an internal bleeding because my hemoglobin, haematocrit and also several other blood values were critical low.

I was very ill at that time, I had constant pain in my whole body. I couldn't sleep from the pain and I felt entirely exhausted.

By matter of speech: my whole body was turned inside out – they did so much research on me, but they couldn't find an internal bleeding.

What they found was that I had (and still have) deformed and enlarged red blood cells.

In fact, I was glad at that moment that they found “something”, but because they found nothing else their research went into a whole other direction!

They asked my husband if I was maybe someone who was “mutilating” herself!

Maybe I was someone who was cutting herself!

That would have been an “easy” explanation for my blood loss. If they can find nothing then it's all in the head!

It made my husband really furious.

So, after staying a whole month in the hospital I could leave without a statement for my problems. I had to take very strong iron tablets and I had to keep rest. Every three weeks I had to go back for a blood control.

It took almost half a year before I recovered and that my blood results were OK.

In the years afterwards, other doctors discovered that there was much more going wrong in my body.

I had a magnesium deficiency (or magnesium leak, that's how my doctor – an endocrinologist – calls it). Magnesium can't get into the center of the blood cells. That explained why I had (and still have) so many cramps and also felt sometimes so exhausted. Until 2 years ago I had to go frequently (at least every three weeks) to the hospital for one night to have a magnesium *intravenous infusion (drips over 12 hours). In spite of that, my magnesium level will never become optimal and I shall have to take magnesium supplements in very high doses for the rest of my life. The lack of magnesium makes that my hands and arms often tremble and that I can't concentrate myself so well. I also can't cope so well with stress.

Now my iron level is much too high and my sugar level goes much too low and recently I had a vitamin D deficiency.

One symptom is not painful but very annoying: heavy equilibrium defects. Then it feels like I am constantly sitting in a merry-go-round. Then I sometimes fall, and feel so sick that I must vomit. Then I lose all my self-confidence and then I'm afraid to go outside the house.

In fact: there is almost no organ or system in my body that had not to deal with my illness.

But I will not give up, I'll keep on fighting.

If you are still reading this, then that's very kind of you to stay here and to endure this all. It was certainly not my intention to be pitiful!

In fact – I consider myself “lucky”, because I know that there are many people who are so much worse than I am. I – I still can run!

One positive outcome of me being sick is that: if I had not been ill, then Pipke would never have lived. Why – I will tell you this later in her story.

Now I shall close the shutters of this “unpleasant” post because it was already more than enough.

I'd hope it didn't annoy you too much.

To finish I would like to give you this advice: take care for your body – listen to your body – you have “no body” in reserve! Stay healthy!

Thank you for reading my story and I wish you all a good health!

(* I don't know if I translated it correct. They administered the infusion with a catheter in the vein, I hope you understand me.)

PS: I decided to publish this post after I encountered several blogs about people who also have health problems. They are much worse than I am. They suffer from FMS/CFS or ME. One blog especially touched me very much because I recognized many things.

I – I stopped consulting all kind of doctors because there's no doctor who “knows” what's really happening. They only “assume”. So – if they can't cure me then I rather work on it myself.

I listen to my body and take no more medicines that they prescribe, it's almost poison.

They do more harm than good.

For those who suffer one of these above mentioned illnesses:

I wish you all much strength.

Also I know what it is: not being understood by doctors.

Take care and big hugs!