Weak and Strong

Monday 28 May

Cough and nausea are the two manifestions of Lara's condition that require the most attention throughout the day, and sometimes the evening or night included. Coughing may bring on reflux and enhance queaziness. She has to carefully triangulate between those two and her  meals. Medication has to be taken in step. Motilium Instant and Gaviscan ( a kind of Maalox) beforehand, Carbobel (carbon absorbens and Methenamin) afterwards, and Litican intravenously twice a day. Coughing syrops come in two varieties and are taken according to the time of day: baume pulmonaire not more than three times a day (makes her lightly drowsy) and a lighter syrop (Thymo Septine) that soothes the throat.

After every meal (if she decides to eat at all), she struggles to keep her food down, knowing that losing it doesn't help her overall condition. Coughing rips through her chest and her whole body convulses; it wears her out. Once she slides into sleep, it stops.

Her appetite is declining overall, and when she makes an effort to eat, she often has stomach troubles, losing her food. "I wish I could still look forward to breakfast", she says, but she doesn't any longer, except the company. That said, she found this morning's cappuccino superlative - "like in the old days".

Her weight is getting less and less, and so is her energy level. Weakness is progressing. Everything wears her out, even a telephone call, or reading the Paris Match. She has to regain some oomph by taking a nap and by spacing and shortening the few visits she will commit to. Her weekly visits to the hospital for transfusions are not matched by a surge of energy. On the contrary, the day-long trips wear her out instead, and even the next days too. "What are we trying to achieve here?", she asks herself. She would rather spend those two days in the company of people dear to her, saying her good-byes and enjoying life to the extent there is still something left to enjoy.

Renouncing any further hospital visits was not a decision that came lightly. We discussed it between the two of us, and with doctor Willemot. Almost all friends and relatives agreed with the decision. We all understand its graveness. Lara's overall blood levels will decline, including hemaglobin, and as a consequence transport of oxygen will be impaired, resulting in even less energy. Weariness will rise, sleeping hours be prolonged. Extrapolate that and you find a precipitated demise. If that end result is inevitable anyway, why not make the most of the time you have left? We will discuss particulars with the doctor tomorrow.

What is lifting her spirits up can be a variety of things. I browsed through some old photos on my PC and dished some splendid ones out for her to see: vacations together, family gatherings, events, personalities. Some of them I sent around to to friends and relatives, and that again brought about a small avalanche of photoes from other people's archives. Some went fifteen years back and we really had to think hard together.

Surprise visits and tokens of friendship is another medium. Yesterday, for example, Darka Topali came by, having taken the train up especially from Luxembourg. She is a former colleague of Lara's from her days at the Center for Human Rights in Geneva. Lara didn't feel up to seeing her face to face. Darka left wishes and presents behind from her and two other collegues, who still feel very attached to Lara. Again, it shows she has more friends than she dared to believe. A strong asset.

Around tea-time today, my son Bouke and his wife, Merel, arrived from Breda with our granddaughter Madelief. Lara just loves her role as 'oma' and regrets she cannot fully play it out on her two granddaughters. We all observed the one year-old walk about the room and grab a hold of all the interesting things in a new environment.