De moed om te zien

Wat ben ik toch blij en dankbaar met mensen die het kunnen verwoorden, dat wat ik voel en beleef. En wat ben ik dankbaar dat ik vrienden heb die mij dit moois toesturen. Zoals het boek ‘Als je wereld instort’ van Pema Chödrön. Ik ben nog maar op pagina 19, maar nu heb ik al zoveel gelezen dat aansluit bij mijn ervaringen. Zo lees ik hoe belangrijk het is om ‘tegen de scherpe kantjes aan te leunen’, de scherpe kantjes van het leven. Om zo het dualistische toe te laten. “Door in het nu te blijven, krijgt de vergankelijkheid een bepaalde intensiteit, hetzelfde gebeurt met compassie, verwondering en moed. En ook met angst. In feite ervaart iedereen die op de rand van het onbekende staat en helemaal in het nu is zonder aanknopingspunt, dat de grond onder zijn voeten is weggeslagen. Het huidige moment is kwetsbaar en zenuwslopend en tegelijkertijd warm.”

Wat HERKENBAAR! Ook ik ervaar geen aanknopingspunt, een intensiteit voor wat betreft mijn vergankelijkheid, maar ik ervaar ook moed, moed om door te gaan en deze weg te gaan en alles in de ogen te kijken. Na mijn hartstilstand heb ik dat ervaren: je kunt erbij blijven, bij de intensiteit, ook als er geen antwoorden zijn en geen aanknopingspunten. Er zacht bijblijven is mogelijk. Er volledig bijblijven….dat weet ik nog niet, dat voelt zwaar nog.

En verderop: “Het soort ontdekkingen dat we doen heeft niets te maken met geloof in iets. Ze hebben veel meer te maken met de moed om te sterven, de moed om voortdurend te sterven.” Ik kan het niet verwoorden, maar ik WEET gewoon dat dit waar is. Ik merk zelf dat ik ergens continu zoek naar een manier, een zienswijze, een houding om vrede te (gaan) hebben met de dood. Terwijl ik nu niet direct met de dood wordt geconfronteerd. Toch voel ik dat hierin een verdieping ligt van het leven en verdieping van de ziel. Het spirituele pad is: “Genoegen nemen met onzekerheid, leren je te midden van de chaos te ontspannen, leren niet in paniek te raken.” Wat is dat lastig, want ergens heb ik heel sterk de behoefte aan een papiertje waarop staat wat er komen gaat in het leven, ik wil zo graag de garantie dat ik 94 word. Zodat ik mijn kinderen groot zie worden en mijn kleinkinderen kan leren kennen. Wat vergt het een moed om met dat verlangen om te gaan en tegelijkertijd de onzekerheid onder ogen te zien en te dragen. Ik weet dat de woorden waar zijn, ik voel dat ze waar zijn, ik ervaar heel soms dat ze waar zijn, maar een stuk van mij wil het nog niet en kan het nog niet toelaten.

Ventricle vase

I have a new love: Pinterest! I also have an older love: Glass objects! I also have a new relationship with my heart as many of you know, and guess what I found on Pinterest this morning:

Ventricle Vessel by Tsunami Glassworks
made by Eva Milinkovic



Stunning! I guess I should own one of these....it makes it a lot easier to embrace my SCA, seeing the heart as such a stunning art object! That's what I would call: turning hell around into beauty.....perhaps the insurance companies can be talked into giving all us SCA survivors something like this next to the ICD's....

Neighbour



Van het weekend was het Burendag. Met een flink aantal moeders en vaders gingen we aan de slag om het speeltuintje weer een goed aanzicht te geven. Je kent het wel: bladeren harken, struiken snoeien, eindelijk eens goed vegen en al het onkruid verwijderen rondom de glijbaan en de wipkip.

De middag werd afgesloten met broodjes kroket en een borrel, een geslaagde dag én een extra gelaagde dag. Want die moeder die ik al jaren gedag zeg, met wie ik klets over de kinderen, de verbouwing en de bakfiets is ook de verpleegkundige die mij heeft verpleegd toen ik werd binnen gebracht. Vertelde zij me. Toen ik naast haar zat. En vroeg wat voor werk ze doet. "Ik werk op de IC." "In Woerden?" "Ik ken je hele verhaal." "....slik..."

Het was goed om met haar te praten, er weer een gezicht bij te kunnen plaatsen. Toch: zij heeft me gezien op het meest intieme en extreme moment in mijn leven. Dat zit je toch wel anders naast iemand. Ik was van haar afhankelijk. Ze heeft me verzorgd, zich ontfermt over mijn familie. En vervolgens heeft ze me weer laten gaan om zich te richten op de volgende. Het is goed zo......
Ze gaat wel een afspraak voor me regelen voor een nagesprek, dat vond ik een goede suggestie van haar. Haar man, die bij de politie werkt, kan ook daar regelen dat ik inzicht krijg in 'mijn dossier'. Het is tijd ervoor...

Last weekend it was neighbour-day. With a lot of mothers and fathers we took care of the playground. Sweeping the floor, getting rid of all the leaves and weeds. In the afternoon we had snacks and drinks and while talking to one of the mothers (that I have known for a while now) it turned out that she is a nurse at the intensive care unit at our hospital. "I know your whole story", she told me.
It was good talking to her, although things will never be the same again. Simply because she has seen me when I was so fragile. For her it's work, but for me.....it's more than just her job. She did suggest a meeting with the medical staff to talk about my case. Her husband, who works at the police, can also arrange a meeting, so I can get more insight in my story. I feel the time has come to take these steps.....

The body knows...

Vol goede moed ben ik aan meditatie begonnen. Leek me goed om meer te ontspannen, meer mijn lichaam te voelen en beter te leren ademen. Ik denk dat mijn lijf er ook blij mee is, want pas nu na twee jaar krijgt ze de ruimte om te laten zien en voelen wat er allemaal zit. En dat is een hoop! Ik dacht echt serieus dat ik goed op weg was met het verwerken van mijn hartstilstand, maar mijn lichaam heeft een eigen tempo en een eigen weten dat zich niet laat sturen.

Meteen al de eerste les voelde ik dat ik heel moeilijk in mijn lichaam kon zakken. Ik voelde een wattenhoofd en kon moeilijk meekomen in de geleide meditaties. Voelde me helemaal niet helder. Vorige week was de laatste meditatie op muziek, een soort tibetaans muziekje, heel rustig. Ik voelde de tranen stromen, tranen van een herinnering aan onze vakantie in Tibet, aan de zorgeloosheid die er toen nog was. Voordat ik kinderen kreeg, voordat ik ziek werd. De hele week heb ik hoofdpijn gehad en voelde ik me wiebelig. Heel langzaam heb ik af en toe wat aandacht gegeven aan de rusteloosheid in me, aan de angst. Gewoon door er af en toe naar toe te ademen een paar minuten.

Gisteravond had ik weer les en ik ging er al veel frisser naar toe. Maar tijdens de grondingsoefeningen ging het weer mis. Ik werd helemaal draaierig en misselijk, ik had helemaal geen zelf meer en vervloog gewoon. Ik voel dat er verdriet zit; een trauma haast. Ik voel ook dat ik op de goede weg ben. Dit dient zich aan, omdat ik er aan toe ben. Nu kan het en mag het. Ze zeggen dat het louterend werkt, wijsheid kan geven. Nou dat hoop ik dan maar! Hopen van Ganser Harte.

Last week I started with a meditation class. Just to relax a bit more and feel calm in my body. Little did I know that my body would react so emotionally. The first class I felt how disconnected my brain and my body are, and how my body has her own voice, her own pace. My mind? O yeah, she dealt with my SCA pretty well. My body? Hell No! She has been pretty traumatized and needs to heal slowly. I really need to take it slow, because otherwise it is way too intense. But this is the road to follow. What motivates me? The wisdom that all the traditions seem to promiss at the other end! :)

My happy second birthday



Gisteren ben ik twee geworden. De week ervoor 38. En wat een verschil met vorig jaar, in hoe ik me voel en hoe het met me gaat. DE dag was vorig jaar nog heel beladen. Dit jaar merkte ik dat het wel ergens in mijn gedachten en lichaam rondzong, maar het eiste niet veel aandacht op. Het begint te zakken, HET verhaal. Toch vraag ik me nog steeds af of ik er iets mee moet. Hoe verhoud ik mij tot alles wat er gebeurd is? Steeds meer zakt het allemaal: het is gewoon gebeurd. Niet meer en niet minder. Het is gewoon. Het was en het is.


Gisteren op de coach kalender, was het thema: Van Overleven naar Overleveren. Daarin lees ik een bevestiging. Het eerste jaar was overleven, het tweede jaar er één van overleveren, aan dat het gebeurd is. Dat ik de hoofdrolspeler was. Overleveren, met de stroom mee, het laten gebeuren.

Yesterday I turned 2, a week earlier 38. And what a difference in how I feel about my SCA than last year. Back then the day felt really heavy and sad. This year it was ok, just a little reminder in the back of my head. I do still wonder about how to deal with it all. More and more I am aware of a certain shift: from surviving to surrendering. It happened to me, there was no fighting against it, it was there, and now I am here. It just doesn’t get any deeper than this.

Leven als opdracht

Het blog van Jan Greven is me dierbaar, omdat ik elke keer weer iets krijg waar ik echt mee verder kan. Zo las ik zijn meest recente stuk “Het leven is een opdracht”. Waarin het (onder meer) gaat over het verschil tussen het leven ervaren als een geschenk en het leven ervaren als een opdracht.

Na de dood van zijn dochter is het leven voor hem geen geschenk meer, maar een opdracht. Dat gaf me inzicht. Inzicht in mezelf en in de thema’s waar ik mee bezig ben de laatste tijd. In allerlei boeken en tijdschriften die ik lees, wordt vaak gesproken over dat het leven goed is. Dat je vertrouwen moet hebben, moet genieten van elke dag. Van het weekend hoorde ik het weer op televisie: (presentator) “Nou je hebt veel mee gemaakt, je zult nu wel dubbel hard genieten van elke dag en elk moment.” De persoon aan wie de vraag werd gesteld beaamde het, maar ik merk dat ik die reactie ergens wantrouw.

Ook ik heb geprobeerd om het leven (weer) te zien als een geschenk waarin ik vertrouwen kan hebben. Maar het leven en de dood zijn twee grootmachten met eigen spelregels en eigen wetten. Nu na mijn harstilstand geloof ik er niet meer zo in. Ik wil het wel graag geloven, enorm graag, maar elke keer faal ik daarin beetje waardoor ik me onrustig en verdrietig voel. Gedachten die boven komen zijn: “Ja maar: het leven is mij toch voor de tweede keer gegeven? En een gegeven paard mag ik natuurlijk niet in de bek kijken en ik heb geleerd overal altijd netjes “dank je wel” voor te zeggen.” En natuurlijk ben ik dankbaar, ENORM dankbaar, dat ik nog een tijdje verder mag leven. Maar de zorgeloosheid is eruit. Het ‘for granted’ is weggeglipt. De glans is eraf.

Daarom voelt het als een geschenk dat ik aangereikt krijg: het leven is een opdracht. Daar ga ik eens een tijd op broeden. In het stuk van Jan Greven gaat het over Bonhoeffer en over zijn geloof dat de basis vormt voor zijn opdracht. Omdat ik geen kerkelijke achtergrond heb, kan ik daar niet zo ver in mee gaan. Ik sluit me aan bij psychiater Koerselman die aangeeft dat de opdracht aanvaarden ook betekent dat je je eigen lot aanvaardt. Weer opstaat na ellende, het leven weer oppakt.

Als ik de woorden zo proef, smaken ze helemaal niet zo zwaar. Het leven als opdracht, als een appèl aan mij om weer op te staan. Als dank voor het leven.

Dutch journalist Jan Greven lost his daughter in January this year (she died of SCA). He tries to find his way in life again, inspired by books he reads and writes about. This time he writes about how life lost it's meaning as a gift, and moved towards life as an assignment. This means a lot to me and is (part of) an awnser to my struggles. You know: so many people say life is a gift, that life is good and that The One is good in the end. After my SCA I kinda lost that trust. People tend to think that after this trauma, I must enjoy every minute to the max. The truth is that I don't and that I feel guilty about that sometimes. I was given life a second time and I am GRATEFUL, but it is hard to accept it as a gift. But as a kid I learned to be happy and say Thank you and just keep smiling. This time there is something wringing, so when I read about how life can also be an assignment it made sense to me. Life as an appeal to me. An assignment to step up, accept my fate and carry on. My way to saying thank you for life.

Guess where I have been?

Voluntarily? Not quiet! A good time? Yeah, kinda. We were invited to go to Eurodisney for a few days. Each time I told people I was going there, they got this look on there face, followed by the question: "Voluntarily? Cuz that is so not you!" They are right, I wouldn't have chosen this trip myself, but we had a good time with the whole family. My two girls in a hotel for the first time, having a buffet diner with tons of new food to taste. My oldest indulging in all the delicious french cheeses and me eating all you can eat Tarte au Citron, which is my all time favorite. Plus: lots of colours, lots of nice shapes, so lots of pictures were taken.

The trip did contrast with the book I read recently: Quiet, The Power of Introverts in a World that Just Can't Stop Talking, by Susan Cain. This book is so Me! Every word and every sentence. What I learned from it is how being an introvert is just who I am, by birth. At least for about 50 percent. The brains of introverts and extraverts just work totally differently. Introverts react strongly to stimuli/incentives from the outside world, they soon have enough. They become a bit aloof perhaps. I always say it's like having a big meal...I need time to digest it. I need to digest all the impressions from the world that I get each day which takes up a lot of energy. I have been saying this, and even more so after my SCA, but the world seems to go a couple of steps too quickly. I hate saying this, it makes me feel insecure many times, as if there is something wrong with me, that I am not capable of dealing with the world as it is.

The book also talked about work a lot. About how you need (every now and then) to step out into you un-characteristic self, which is not bad as long as it is founded on a good set of beliefs that give you energy and focus. When reading that I realized it is time (let's say Time!) to look into my beliefs, my values, my fundament. It may seem natural to some, but I have not been in touch with my own fundament for a long time. Not working from my beliefs and having to step out of my introvert nature too often makes me feel a foreigner sometimes.

And I wondered: what if I had died that day? Did I have a good life till then? Or was there (are there) still some unfinished business to do? Am I proud of who I am? Are my actions and my beliefs in balance? Am I living the life that I would like to look back on when I am 85? If I am missing something, then what is it? There is not one awnser, but one is there for sure: I would like to connect more. With myself and others. I need to find a way to work with people on a way more personal level than what I am doing now. Will keep you updated.



Heart Energy

Twice a year I have to go the the hospital to have a check on my ICD and it's data. This last Monday I took the train to the AMC Hospital in Amsterdam and was met by a very friendly nurse who followed the procedure.
After that it was a long wait this time to meet THE Professor. He looks like a professor, he talks like a professor....and you can take it both ways. On the one hand I can tell all his cells in his body are absorbed with knowledge about the heart. He breaths cardiology, goes to bed with it and wakes up with it. On the other hand it is hard for him (and many with him) to 'translate' his knowledge to a normal level for a normal person like me.
I feel that they take my case seriously. I know that they know who I am, I am not just a number over there. But for me my SCA is about emotions, for them it's about a mechanical thing, like a car that stopped working.

Another hard thing is that every time I go there I feel that there are new 'diagnoses', new suggestions to be made. This time the professor said to me: "You do have some rhythmproblems, but these ones are not life threatening. These ones won't prevent you from turning 100 one day. These ones don't have anything to do with your SCA!"
"Huh...??? What are you saying, what does that mean?"
"Well we don't know what caused your SCA. We still don't, but it could have been a virus on your heartmuscle for example and not so much some genetic failure in your heartrhythm. The problem we have now is that your ICD does not know the difference between these rhythm problems and 'real' problems with your heart. So this causes some 'noise'. We will talk about this in our team and we may be able to treat you a bit better with some other medication. Treat, not cure."

I walked out the hospital 5 minutes later, feeling totally empty. All the energy was drained from my body. Why, I am not sure. This 'diagnoses' are not completely shocking, although I did think: "but this means that I might have (had) two different things". Being there just makes it real. Super real. For many days on I can 'forget', feeling almost 100% recovered now. (Spring and Summer coming definitely helps to gain more energy) My next visit to the hospital will be different: 1) my husband will be joining me, 2) I will take a day off and do something FUN to get rid of the more negative energy and regain some of my joy for life!

Just some thoughts again on SCA

This morning I read the great blog Heart Stops from a fellow SCA survivor. It shows really well the paradox we/I are in. On the one hand I also feel a deep gratitude for being a survivor with hardly any brain damage. On the other hand being a survivor is also sometimes hard. Like last week, being at the beach, feeling the wind and the sun on my skin. It hits me hard to realize that I am not 'just standing there'. It feels like there are Capital Letters everywhere, shouting to me: YOU ARE STANDING ON THE BEACH!!! YOU!!! This is NOT to be taken For Granted!

It still feels like a lot of things are new in a way. Every 'first time' is something I am aware of. The first time on the beach, the first time I saw the leaves coming in spring, the first time I saw the same leaves falling in autumn. At those times I also realize that there will be a time that it will be my last spring, my last autumn. Hopefully I will be very old and grey and wise and with a certain resignation.

I sense a certain anger in my body...death knocked on my door!!! Why me? Why not me? Are life and death so arbitrary? THAT I find so shocking! If there is no higher plan, then what is there to sooth me, to embrace me, to comfort me? This is what I struggle with. It is like Irvin Yalom says: it is like staring at the sun with you eyes wide open. Pretty painful sometimes.

So that's the paradox I guess, I am alive, but by being so I can spend hours upon hours being aware... But I do want to thank Marty from Heart Stops, for also thinking about the not so lucky ones and sending condolences to all families who have to bury their loved ones.

Just some thoughts on SCA

I really like these new words...Sudden Cardiac Arrest. I don't know why. Because I am Dutch, the English language doesn't come naturally and I learn every day. I always talked about having had a heartattack, but I didn't, I had a SDA. Learning about it, made searching the internet a lot more interesting. Finally I found fellow survivors.
You know, I don't really feel like joining groups at the hospital. There are several out there, but mostly they are for people who have some serious brain damage and some serious emotional problems. Eventhough it took me a year to recover (and still not back to the old me), I feel that I don't need such a group. But I do feel a strong need to share, to talk about it over and over and over. And since I know nobody who had this, I do feel lonely every now and then. Having had a SDA also fueled my philosophical brain. What I struggle with are questions like: I am a survivor and it feels like a gift. Who am I to recieve such a giant gift? And why did the woman who was living only a few doors down the road die? What's the difference between us?

You know, I don't really believe in a God who has a plan. I guess I am strongly influenced by philosophers like Heidegger who write about Being and Nothingness. I very much liked Zen texts that I read at Uni. There is Being....without any question.....and it goes on and on and on.....without a plan, just random? Lets say there is no plan, that every thing just happens without a cause or reason...even then I want something to hold on to. This brings me to thoughts like: "what is the core essence that unites every single being?" "I survived and I live in such a rich world with such abundance...why me? It feels so unfair to all the people who did die. I sometimes struggle with being a survivor. It is so hard to wrap my mind around it. I survived!!! I catch myself often, thinking "of course I survived." But these thoughts come from a place where my own death is almost impossible to imagine. Of course I live, of course I will be 96 like my granny. Of course all those people who die young did something different in there lives, like smoke, or eat the wrong food, or have bad genetics. But me? Hell No! I didn't do all those things and have good genes so I will live! That also gives me a feeling like: "you all tell me that something really bad happened, but I don't remember a things, so Yeah Right! Why should I believe you?" And then it is only a small step to the bathroom mirror that shows me my scar every day. My ICD is there because there is something going on.

So I can not really put my finger to it. What is it that I am struggeling with? Am I expecting from myself to have a 'Lightbulb Moment' and start living my 'Best Life'? Honestly, haven't seen many lightbulbs yet? Advice? Anyone?
I guess the road I was and still am walking on is a good one. I already knew that wisdom is realizing that we know nothing. That there are no real certainties in life, except the fact that we will all die! :) This reminds me of one of teacher who asked us one day: "Ladies and Gentlemen: why are you here?" "Well, we would like to learn about philosophy!" "Wrong!" "Because we want to get a degree and payed good money, so we'd better get what we payed for!" "Wrong again:
There is only one reason and it is: You are here because you are going to die! If there is no death, you would not be here. You would be doing other stuff. Or maybe you would do nothing at all, for eternity will make you lazy, will make you roam around in life." And of course this is so true, but now that I am writing this, questions arise: "How do I relate to eternity?" "How do I relate to mankind?" "How do I relate to history?" I guess it all comes down to: "What is the meaning of life? What is my meaning of life?"

Medische update

Gek hoor, naast alle dagelijkse dingen: genieten van de kinderen, gewoon huishouden, weer steeds meer werken en klussen aan ons huis, is er ook nog steeds het medische circuit waar ik voorlopig nog in zit. Ik moet ergens niet vergeten dat mijn hartaanval pas 7 maanden geleden was; het voelt echt al veel langer terug. Bovendien vergeet ik soms haast dat ons leven werd opgeschrikt door zoiets groots. Hoewel: vergeten is er niet echt bij, het zingt altijd wel ergens op de achtergrond. Maar omdat het dagelijkse leven gewoon zo snel gaat met zoveel dingen erin, neem ik niet altijd de tijd om stil te staan.

Een paar weken terug waren we in het AMC. Eigenlijk kunnen de artsen nog niets zeggen, behalve dat ze bij het genetisch onderzoek geen Long QT 1 en Long QT 2 hebben gevonden. Er is wel heel duidelijk iets mis met de elektriciteit van mijn hart en het lijkt ontzettend op Long QT 2. Voorlopig zitten we dus nog op de weg van dit syndroom en de verwachting is dat aan het eind van de zomer het onderzoek kan worden afgerond. Dan wordt ook gekeken wat we met onze twee kinderen moeten doen. Kijk, als er bij mij genetisch niets gevonden wordt, hoeven zij ook niet getest te worden. Maar er is wel duidelijk iets met mij aan de hand, wat ik kan hebben doorgeven. Dat is voor ons als ouders heel erg spannend. Ergens hopen we gewoon dat ze bij mij een defect gen vinden. Dan kunnen ze vervolgens de kinderen ook zoveel beter onderzoeken. Nou ja, afwachten dus maar.
Over een week krijg ik nog een inspanningstest en nog een echo van mijn hart. Dan nog een bezoek aan de revalidatiearts en de neuroloog. Ondertussen nog contact met de bedrijfsarts, dus genoeg bezoeken, gesprekken en onderzoeken die ons eraan herinneren dat er wel degelijk iets ergs is gebeurd. Ik weet nog niet goed hoe ik me er toe moet verhouden. Ik voel me namelijk helemaal niet ziek. De vermoeidheid van de afgelopen maanden slinkt dagelijks. Ik zie er gewoon helemaal normaal uit. Het ziet er naar uit dat alles weer gewoon kan worden. Maar daartegenover staan nu nog een paar 'maars'. 'Ik voel me niet ziek, maar ik heb wel degelijk wat.' 'Ik zie er goed uit, maar...' Soms best lastig om mee om te gaan. En omdat de toekomst onzeker is, in de zin van dat niemand kan zeggen of mijn hart ooit weer op hol slaat of wat dan ook, kan ik het verhaal van mijn hartaanval niet afronden. Ik kan niet zeggen: "toen werd ik ziek, maar nu ben ik weer genezen en dat is zo en zo gegaan." Nee, het verhaal blijft en wordt steeds vervolgd. Nogmaals: ik weet nog niet hoe ik me daartoe moet verhouden. Het maakt me in ieder geval soms heel verdrietig. Dan voel ik me gewoon soms zielig. Hoewel ik me over het algemeen gelukkig kan overgeven aan het leven weer en het gewoon kan oppakken. Wordt dus vervolgd.

A few weeks ago I went to the hospital. The doctors still can not say much about what is wrong with me. There is something wrong with my heart, but it is still unknown. I am getting more tests soon and will see some more doctors in the next few months. In the meantime I am picking up my old life again. Working, taking care of the kids, seeing friends and all. Because things go back to normal so easily I forget many times that this is not to be taken for granted!!! I did crawl through the eye of the needle. I still don't know how to handle all this. I will never get better. It will never go away. That is big. I am worried about the health of my two children...Big Sigh...Not easy...
To be continued...

Merry Christmas Everyone

Merry Christmas my dear readers!

Today we had a good first Christmas day with family coming over for dinner. The sky was blue and now, as I am sitting here, writing, the snow comes falling from the sky again. It is so pretty! Adding to the pleasure is our warm house and cozy living room...I like winter, but I am not really into the cold that much.

These last days of the year also make me think of the year behind us. And man, what a year it has been! But even though I am looking back, I am more and more aware of how my heart attack has fueled some new things for the future. Nothing really dramatic, but I can tell there is something shifting inside. I can only feel it every now and then. When I am not too tired and not too afraid, or busy with trying new things, like working again.

I can tell that, after things get back to normal a bit, I have reached a new level. Not necessarily higher or lower, just a little different. I am way more aware of the fact that we have to live Now! That some people need (and let not spare myself: I need it too!) a kick in the butt sometimes! Good lord...all the worrying about all the little things...makes me impatient.
I can tell that I let the world hear my voice stronger than before. The people who know me, know that I am a bit introvert, sometimes a bit shy. These past weeks I found myself being a lot more assertive in stores for example. And the best part of it: without feeling too self-conscious or guilty of whatever. I feel like: who gives a &%$#!

Also I feel a lot less concerned about things needing to be a certain level. "Christmas dinner for 8 people?" "Let's keep it simple and easy". "Cleaning the house?" "A bit here and there will do!"
Perhaps it is because the articles and books about 'mindfulness' that I have been reading. Perhaps all the words are sinking into my subconscious and do some work there...I don't know. Fact is: I like life a lot better, living it the simple way.

That's also what this picture is about for me. I came upon this Maria statue on a cemetery here in my hometown. It reminds me of how we are all connected. I see a mother of ancient times and am reminded of the fact that there will be mothers in centuries to come. It is all about caring for each other, loving each other, loving life, living life, treasuring the small and the grant.

It tells me how we are all embedded in the great embrace of Being.

Meeting my rescuer: Part two

A few days ago, I got a pleasant visit from another rescuer: a Motor Cop who was at the scene very quickly. He was wondering about how I was doing so he drove by for a little visit. I must say: I really appreciated this. He told me he had done CPR many, many times before, but my story was one he kept thinking about. Simply because I am so young, with two small children.

Another part of the story apparently keeps a lot of people wondering: During CPR I kept coming back to life a little. My skin tone got a lot better and my pupils grew larger and smaller. Nobody seems to understand why this happened and what this all means. Perhaps I need to ask my cardiologist.

What's important for me, is to feel, really feel, how many people cared for me. Worked their best for me! It gives me (extra) faith in human kind!

Meeting my rescuer

A couple of days ago I met one of my rescuers. I had been told that two people did CPR on me, a man and a woman (B.). I met the woman this Tuesday evening.

I had thought a lot about the people who were there when it all happened. Because we live in a pretty small town I realized that we could all run into each other in the city center. One of the first days I spent by myself I went for a walk. This woman came up to me saying she was so glad I made it. I didn't recognize her, but it turned out she works in the hospital bringing food to all the patients. She had seen me for a few days and heard my story and was really impressed. It was really good to talk to her and to be able to get a fuller picture for myself.

The man (a volunteer fire fighter) who helped me told the police that he was alright with the situation and he didn't feel the need for further contact. The woman agreed to meet me right away. It was so good to see her. It wasn't emotional or anything, a little awkward perhaps, but really nice. She told me about how she had taken first aid classes for years, also because she works at a daycare. She was so grateful to have been able to use her knowledge. But she also knew only 9% of the people who get CPR this way make it alive. For her it was really important to see me, to know I am alright. Last week we passed each other biking, at exactly the place of my accident, but she didn't want to stop me then. And I didn't recognize her yet.
(Funny thing: for both of us it was the first time we biked by The place!)

The evening of my accident she was a little late when she left work. She jumped on her bike and passed me just a few minutes after I fell. A guy (E.J.) who was on the scene first knew her pretty well so they (and a few more people) were talking about what to do. She then noticed I stopped breathing and started doing CPR right away. Then the fire fighter came out of nowhere and, almost like a team of professionals, they all did what they had to do. How lucky can you get?!

B. and I talked about how strange it is to be brought together by something like this. She is my age. We could be friends. She saved my life! I tried to say thank you. She tried to say your welcome. But words couldn't express what we felt.

I realized that she was with me during a very intimate moment in my life. There are just very few moments like this. When things are (literally) naked. Touching the fundamental things in life. I felt like this when I gave birth. But being close to someone dying is also very intimate.
I remember when my grandfather was on his deathbed; we only talked about things that really matter in life. All the unnecessary words, feelings and emotions just withdrew.

I also realize that life goes on. I can't always think about the accident or about how lucky I have been or about how there have been angels all around me that day.
Today one of my best friends came over and we barely talked about the accident. We talked (during a fantastic lunch) about our children and the upcoming birth of her second girl. It was great! Slowly and step by step I am moving forward!

Just a few words

Today, five weeks ago, I got a heart attack. I survived, but she did not. Just a few houses down the road she was a mother like I am. With two kids, just like us. With a husband, family, friends, just like us. With an insanely beautiful house, just....not like us, not yet anyway.
A few words to commemorate her.

Last year on October 18th I told my husband that I would test drive the car we got for a few months from my parents in law. So I drove around a little only to return an hour later, with the street full of police cars and ambulances. We didn't think that much of it; probably some people who got drunk and in a fight while going to a club or so....

A few days later my friend L. was over for a nice afternoon with latte's and talks when we saw a funeral procession going by the house. It made us fall silent for a while and talk about life and death a little. Then the 'home town newspaper' fell on the doormat and then it hit me.
She died. I didn't know her personally, but her name was almost like mine. Her age almost like mine. Her living situation almost like mine. And it gave me a lump in my throat. I thought about her quiet often during the weeks following the news.

Fast forward to late august of this year when I hit the pavement. Tons of people sent me cards and came to visit. So did my lovely aunt and uncle last week.
We were having coffee and were talking about the whole situation when my aunt started telling about this woman she met a few weeks earlier. Her husband and my uncle (and a bunch of other people) used to study together in the 60's and 70's and once a year they meet for a day. This woman told my aunt that her daughter had passed away last year, all of sudden, just gone in her sleep.
My aunt mentioned her name. Mentioned her age. It made me hear an alarm bell in my head, so I told her about the woman in my street. After which it all turns out we were talking about the same person. And it also turns out that she probably had the same kind of condition that I am having. Probably, because the doctors can't test her to be sure.

The past few days I have been thinking about her again a lot more. Trying to grasp our stories. She died. I didn't. That kind of stuff. But I can't grasp it. It is as it is. I wrote her a letter in my journal this afternoon. A letter from a mother to a mother, a wife to a wife, a woman to a woman. I think I don't really believe in a plan from above. In something 'meant to be'. Like 'she left us for a reason'. And if so it must have been involuntarily.

I will try to live my life to the fullest. Do the best I can. And to think about her every now and then. Her story makes me remind myself of the fact that there was an angel on my shoulder. That whatever is out there didn't want me yet. That I am given some extra days on this planet. GRATEFUL is how I feel!!!

Update: life with an ICD

Quiet a few people ask me how I am doing after my heart attack. Thank God I can honestly say that I am doing better and better every day. The tiredness is slowly going away, so I have more energy to do some fun things in and around the house. Like decorating a bit and making photo-albums of my two girls.

Last week I had another EEG of my brain (I didn't look like the guy in the picture though). It was hard for the assistant to get all the electrodes in the right place due to my very thick hair. I helped along as good as I could and we had a bit of a laugh about it all. At first glance they told me it looked alright and I am seeing a neurologist about this matter in a few weeks.

A few days before there was a meeting with the rehabilitation doctor. I had a million question to answer about whether I felt over emotional or the opposite etc. He said I am doing extremely well considering the time between the accident and the appointment with him. I just gotta ' keep calm and carry on' and see how I am doing as I go along.

I also had a talk with the medical officer about getting started at work. He was very reasonable which made me feel a lot more relaxed. I had been dreaming about this doctor being a total jerk wanting me to get started full time right away. We decided to meet at October 25th and then from there on see what I going to do.

In the meantime I am enjoying all the lovely cards I got. The second chance there is for me in life. Now that the 'cloud of tiredness' is gone (almost) I feel the need to dive into books, to indulge in ancient wisdom, to cherish good conversations with friends and with strangers, to embrace life as it comes my way. To WRITE. I need to write a lot more!!! I say this in CAPITAL letters to remind myself what I seem to forget to easily!
Talk to you later!

Little update about my life....after

I have been home for more than a week and I am doing pretty ok. Feeling very tired is sometimes hard, but when I just keep things calm things are fine. My wound has healed very nicely and the ICD is hard to notice in my body. So I am not complaining.

I have been thinking a lot about what has happened. Michiel, my husband, told me more and more about the evening and about the first night after my heart attack. That was hard to hear. Apparently I looked a bit epileptic and I didn't recognize anyone. Can you imagine? It drives me pretty crazy, knowing that he has seen me like that. That my mom has been standing by my bed, not knowing whether I would make it till the next day. Not knowing if I could ever talk or walk again. Michiel told me that at one point he just had to leave the room. I feel so sorry for him! It must have been horrible. Then I think about my mom, hearing the news and racing to the hospital. Not knowing what she would see. She and my brother has been there as well. Oh my God! Thinking about it makes me cry!

Am I weird about thinking more about my mom in the first place than about my children? They could have lost their mother, which drives me insane thinking about it. But my mother could have lost her child, that makes me so incredibly emotional. Thinking about one of my daughters in the hospital, me standing by their bed, not knowing about what is going on.......it must be the hardest thing in life to loose a child. Thank God I am still here! I feel very blessed! But I don't have this ' I am going to change my life around ' kinda feeling (yet).

Maybe I just shouldn't watch my feelings so much and just take them as they come my way. We went to the neurologist and she said that my brain will be healing for about a year. She also advised me to take things slow. Tomorrow we will see a cardiologist. So more information comes soon.

Thanks for all the wonderful e-mails! Love to hear from you all!

The day my life changed forever

Well, my life did change forever on thursday august 26^th. Let me tell you how.

I had worked all day and went home to pick up the kids from daycare. We have a 'bakfiets', which is a bike with a large wooden bucket in which the kids sit. I was biking home and everything went well. Until I woke up in the hospital a few days later.

Apparently I had a heart attack (can you believe it? I just turned 36?!).
Anyhow, I was very lucky that the moment we fell, there were some people who knew how to do CPR. They started immediately and called the police and the ambulance. They were at the scene very quickly and I was rushed to the hospital. I was in IC for two days during which they couldn't really tell what was going on. There were moments when I didn't recognize my husband and I was just screaming and pulling out needles because I wanted to leave. Thank God, after a day I woke up feeling much better and much to everyones relieve I could still talk and walk and move in proper ways. A little bit of my short term memory has been lost, but everyday it gets better. I can read a book now and remember what's in it.

After I was stable, I was brought to a normal room in the hospital. A few days later I was brought to the AMC Hospital in Amsterdam, where they installed an ICD. The next day I went home, with a few appointment in my agenda for the next weeks. The doctors think I have a Long QT Syndrome, which is hereditary. But no-one in my family died young. On the contrary, everybody gets really old. So we'll just have to wait and see. They are doing an extensive genetic analysis.

I feel extremely calm and quiet inside. Sometimes wondering: is this ok? Shouldn't I be crying about my life almost lost? I guess psychologically it comes at it's own speed. I am not scared about all the emotions, but it seems now, that everyone around me is a lot more emotional than I am. Perhaps when things calm down a little, that my emotions will flow.

For now, I am very tired. So I sleep a little after lunch. Today I am going to town, a 15 walk all by myself. Nobody home today, just me, myself and I. Going to have some lunch in a cafe. Enjoying the wind in my hair and the fact that I can sit there by myself.

But I am grateful! VERY GRATEFUL! About the second change I got!