The Next Day

Apologies to all those who had to learn the difficult news through the present blog. Last night, after recovering from the shock ourselves, Lara and I called a number of relatives and friends by phone to inform them about the status. We couldn't muster the courage to deal with the emotional burden of telling and retelling essentially the same story and accommodate grief on a one-to-one basis. I wrote the Doomsday post last night, but upon the advice of friends I held back and didn't post it until late this morning. But it had to get out at some point lest people would start to call around among themselves and not hear it from us directly.

Wednesday April 18 late afternoon

The response today was overwhelming. I was there with Lara for six hours today. Dozens of phone calls, mails and messages coming in. Taxing as well, for they amounted to farewells. I have so much admiration for Lara's stamina and wisdom. She has a kind word for every caller, biting back her tears at times, but gratified that at least there was contact.

Lara is serene and calm. 'With it' enough to discuss about this and the other thing. Including solving the Jumbles in the IHT. Then, around four, she slipped away as usual into sleep and fever, shivering slightly. Many phone calls and messages coming in during the course of the afternoon and travel plans solidifying. We are awaiting contact with the social team of the hospital to set up home care for Lara, hopefully before the weekend. As I write, around 6:00PM, she is waiting for the intravenous Dafalgan to kick in and take her temp down from 38.9C to about 37C.

Around 7:00PM I schnuggled up against her on the hospital bed, allowing her head to fall against my shoulder and we just talked, softly, about where she was going and where that would leave me.

I had to tear myself away around 8:30PM. Emotionally, by that time, I was slightly out of whack. As I was paying my parking ticket I was also talking to my sister over the phone; she is vacationing in Egypt. In the process, I lost my exit ticket, as I found out standing in front of the boom with two cars behind me. Never done that before. Then I had to negotiate a 25 euro fine for losing my ticket on the thin claim that I had been a steady customer for over a year. They reneged.

Then on the way back, I heard an unfamiliar beep in my car, one I couldn't find the source of. So I see this light blinking on the fuel gauge indicator. No gas left. Fortunately, about one kilometer up the street there is a gas station where I end up running on my fumes. Had I passed the station first, I wouldn't have made it home.

I have got to focus more.