BBP
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Peg Leg
The following story is not finished, and it won't be until the gips comes off on March 22nd. It's as factual as possible.
Peg leg.
Note: Aside from my sister and bosses, all people are named either by nicknames, or not at all. I'd like to stress that my experience with pretty
much anyone mentioned was highly positive. Even if they were forced to cause me stress, I've met nothing but lovely people during this ordeal. I leave
the other patients in the ward as important as their company was for me, as much to their privacy as possible.
Chapter 1: The Lengthiest Introduction Into Nowhere, Just Because I Like Talking
For the past ten years, I have been a spare newspaper deliverer. This means I don't get a fixed route. Instead, I have delivered everywhere on this
side of town. Fortunately, being a spare I only had to deliver in days of emergency: during summer vacation, epidemics, and during the
South-Netherlands booze and dress-up fest Carnaval.
This went on until 2008. The amount of deliverers became so low, that I had the same round for six months. The same went for 2009. I've been working
since last June. Initially it was a small round at about 20 minutes cycling from my house, with a particularly nasty drunkard who often shout indecent
proposals to me. These proposals were paid oral sexual activities. I'm not sure who he wanted to pay, and I didn't want to ask him.
Since November the emergency became even higher. One colleague was fired on the spot after he decided to stop delivering as soon as it started to
rain, then leaving his bags and bicycle outside, so all the papers got soaked. I took over his round. Conveniently it is the route of my own
neighborhood.
I live in a nice suburban neighborhood, on a 15 minute cycle trip from the town centre of the 5th largest city of The Netherlands and the largest
shopping centre in the area, but also on a 15 minute walk from the vast Campine heaths. It is possible to walk all the way to Belgium in the heath
from this point. It's beautiful.
Unfortunately it is what we call a Vinex-neighborhood. In the 90s a building law, Vinex, passed that stated that every new neighborhood must have
houses with (by Dutch standards) huge distances between them, the roads must be bendy to prevent boredom, and every house must have a garage.
Consequently it has the following setbacks:
1 The route itself is quite a long distance;
2 There are relatively many newspapers in this long distance;
3 In spite of that, many houses are far apart;
4 It's a rich neighborhood, so most families here have two cars. Virtually NONE of these put any of their vehicles in the garage: they'd much rather
put them on the driveway.
This means I have to squeeze past two massive cars to reach the mail slot. We have to put the papers in the mail slot around here.
The weather hasn't been gentle on the deliverers. We have had five snowfalls this far. Even two is a rarity. Especially the first one, which came
halfway December, was dreadful.
There was way too much snow to cycle through. I often had to stall the bike far away from the address. Not to mention that it's COLD. In total I spent
over twice as much time on my route: 3 hours in total.
The second batch came two weeks later. It is extremely rare that we have this much snow: consequently municipalities everywhere ran out of salt.
The third batch was still less severe, although still annoying. It started snowing on the 29th of January. There was still some by the 3rd.
Unfortunately it had been raining the night of the third, and it started freezing straight after. One of the streets I deliver at, Gulbersven, also
has a leaking sewer, so an extra layer of ice formed on top of it.
There are also interesting factoids about me that I like to mention. I am fortunate enough to have gotten away from hideous crash landings with
bruises, getting rarely more serious injuries than mild cuts, dislocations and mild concussions. I liked to think I was made of rubber.
Also I'm phobic. Most of them are mild, and several are bizarre. I'm very mildly scared of people in wheelchairs, dogs, digital numbers, eyes and
staircases. And phoning people.
My arachnophobia was more severe: I used to do a daily check in my bedroom to kill all the spiders I could find. I'm beyond that, but I can still get
skittish with them.
The only truly bad phobia I still have, is a fear of needles. I cringe when I see someone on TV getting an injection, especially if it's in a movie
with over-the-top sound effects. I feel sick when I hear a tattoo machine. I feel sick when I see piercings. I remember my last three injections as
bright as day. I vomited after the last two times.
The third one took place when I was 3. The nurse gave me my vaccinations, and missed the first time. I ran off, and returned to the waiting room,
hiding myself behind a bright children's book (Dick Bruna: The Apple, but in Dutch). They were looking for me for 20 minutes, eventually fearing I had
run out. But they caught me. I don't remember the rest, but Dad told me it took three people to hold me still.
I'm also a woman of principles. I love every human being, even if they make it very difficult for me. I will never watch The Sound Of Music, re-join
MySpace, shop at Aldi, buy non-fairtrade chocolate or buy a cellphone. Not just because of my phobia. I HATE those things.
[Edited on 17-2-10 by BBP]
[Edited on 17-2-10 by BBP]
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BBP
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Chapter 2: The Events Of February The Third, As Complete As I Can Possibly Make It, or Gravity Wins Again.
4:45: Alarm goes. I dress myself as quickly as I can, wear my black faux-army boots, race down as quickly as I can.
4:50: I grab my keys, take a sip of water, and leave.
5:00: Arrival at delivery station. I pack my newspapers, but am slightly dazed. I need 5 FD papers, but temporarily I'm convinced I need 3.
5:10: Head for my route.
6:25: I discover I am missing the two newspapers. Cycle back to station. I meet my bosses midway. They discovered the two extra FDs and give them to
me. I cycle back as quickly as snow allows.
6:40: I discover I miss two Volkskrant as well. Blast. Don't want to cycle back again, so I decide to skip one address.
6:45: I cross the leaking sewer. My rear tire slips away. I try to regain balance using my left foot, but that was a bad idea. I fall in the middle of
a very quiet street, landing in snow and ice, at 6:45. I start shouting and crying for help.
6:50: Even though I felt it went CRACK as I landed, I still hoped my ankle was only bruised. I put my left foot flat on the ground, but it can't even
support my knee. When Grandma broke her ankle years ago, she could walk with it.
6:55: I try to crawl to the nearest house, but the ground is too cold and my sweats are too chilly to get anywhere.
7:00: Alarms are ringing everywhere. People are waking up. On the nearest house, somebody taps on the window. I wave back. A woman comes and tries to
get me upright, but my ankle is too mashed. Her husband comes too, and she goes off to get me a blanket. The man calls the alarm number. The ambulance
won't arrive for another 15 minutes.
The man lets me call a family member, but my father has left for work. Since he works abroad, he switches off his mobile: it'll cost him extra money
if somebody in The Netherlands calls him. My sister Saskia is the only other relative I could call, but she lost her mobile that weekend in the train.
Who's left? My boss; but I don't know her number.
In the mean time, six Gulbergven residents are giving me blankets and towels to wrap myself in and sit on.
7:12 Police arrives. They ask for my ID, but I don't bring anything of value on my route. No problem.
7:15 Ambulance arrives. They drag me into the car (it's a long car, not a van) and ask for my data.
The male ambulance worker recognizes me. He was in my sister's class. Funny.
Since I have a UK size 9 shoes, I have enormous trouble buying footwear. I don't want the friendly health care workers to cut my shoes or socks: I
take them off myself.
They ask me if I want pain killers. The downside is: NEEDLES. I politely say no.
To my utter shock, they ask me not to travel by ambulance. After all, the injury isn't too serious, somebody else can take me. I explain there is
no-one.
They lie me down, strap me in, put an inflatable gizmo around my ankle to keep it straight, and start to drive.
It is dark. I'm lying down, in pain, driving backwards. I get horribly carsick.
The doctors ask me what my usual hospital is. I give them the name. They say they are taking me to another one because it's close by: St Anna in
Geldrop.
The ride is filled with Vinex speedbumps and bends. It is painful, and nauseating.
7:50 I arrive at St. Anna. I'm transferred onto a bedlike plank, and pulled into a small room. The nurses question me. I have to give my name and
birthdate several times. Then comes the worst of all: Who can we call? My father is unavailable. He works in Belgium and has his cell phone off. My
sister has just lost her phone. The hospital won't mail.
Nobody left but my boss. I give her name and address, they look up her phone number and ring her. She asks which newspapers I still have to deliver.
The nurse comes back to tell me this. I write down the desired information. Then I'm left alone, for 20 minutes. The clock says 8:35.
Twenty minutes is the length of a Simpsons episode. It's the length Dutch cookbooks suggest for cooking any vegetable. It is an eternity in a
hospital, a confined white room, with no interesting accessories whatsoever whilst being immobile on an uncomfortable bed. Reality sinks in. I'm on a
hospital bed with a broken ankle, all alone, my father and sister don't know and I can't contact them, my boyfriend is in Bulgaria and I can't reach
him, I have no friends in the vicinity... Adrenaline starts to wear off. I'm lonely.
There was some good news for me at this point. I hadn't eaten since my egg sandwich the evening before, so I could be operated the same day. Of course
my fear of penetrating the skin also means I am scared of operations, so this information wasn't helping me to make me feel at ease.
But first they had to straighten my leg. It could be "sensitive".
There go the alarm bells. The only time any other medic told me it could be sensitive, was when my dentist repaired a broken tooth and had to make
some grooves for the paste with his drill. He hit a nerve. As the Dutch proverb goes, I jumped to the ceiling.
Some time later, a friendly woman comes in. She is also familiar with my aichmophobia; probably because she comes to install the IV needle. She has to
draw blood, and they're done in the same go. Fortunately my veins are clearly visible. Not overly aesthetic, but convenient today. The Stingster tells
me to look away. She inserts the needle on the side of my left wrist. It's not pleasant, but no tendency to puke yet.
But there's a problem. No blood is coming out. She lets it pull vacuum (ouch!) and puts another needle in my left elbow pit. It's oozing out, slow
like me trying to figure out double entendres. She talks to me about the pain killers. She tells me it's very important that I take them, so they can
put my foot in line without too much pain. After the IV and blood drain, what's a third? In the mean time, she gives me a piece of cloth to put on the
blood drain hole.
I'm rolled into the X-ray room. A Poe-Teletubbie soft toy dangles from an IV stand in the corner, in a feeble attempt to brighten up the gray chamber.
The assistant puts my foot as straight up as she can. The machine makes a picture. A red scanner traces my leg. Quick, no pain... That was easy. She
takes another picture from the side. The Stingster takes me to the previous room again, where she injects my pain killers. Some time later, I'm taken
to the Plaster Room.
A friendly, middle-aged gentleman shakes my hand and introduces himself. He calls for back-up. "Can you give me a hand with this straightening?" He
makes it sound ever so lightly. Another man comes in, a young one. He introduces himself. While the Stingster holds my leg, and while I hold the
cotton to stop the bleeding in my elbow armpit, the men get cracking. It's 9:40.
I move my right arm, which is still holding the cotton on my left. Left arm moves behind my head. I'm elsewhere now. There's me, there's darkness, and
there's pain. Excruciating pain. Unprecedented pain.
Whenever I saw somebody's fracture straightened on a medical programme on TV and I heard them whine, I thought they were overdoing. And here I lay,
with not-yet-working pain killers, outcrying all of them.
Fifteen minutes in the cold snow, alone, had seemed forever.
Twenty minutes alone in pain on a hospital bed in a room, had seemed forever.
And here comes my third eternity of the day. The shortest one, at under ten minutes, but the one I could never re-live again. It was the worst.It was
the pain of which you'd never want to know it existed.
Ten minutes later, I open my eyes after the pain stopped. The men are plastering my leg. The Stingster remarks that they are making a bit of a mess,
but I can't see it. After the plaster, they put nice dark-blue gauze on the cast. I want to remark it's my favourite colour, but all that comes out is
"blue". I'm sure they were already aware of that.
"Oh, you can let go of that now dear, you could've let that go ages ago!" the Stingster says, referring to the cloth I used to stop my arm from
bleeding.
My first visitors of the day drop in! It's Nel and Henk, my bosses. I have a lengthy talk with them, discussing logistics. They tell me they'll mail
my father. I tell them to write him to drive carefully. I tell them what happened and which houses I still need to do, and where the newspapers are.
One of the Gulbergsven residents was kind enough to store my bicycle and papers. And we have a friendly chat about everything and nothing. Forty
minutes later, I've calmed down and they leave. Then I have to wait 15 minutes for the nurses to bring the hospital bed and roll me to the ward, but
with a big chart on the wall listing how all minor fractures should be cast, I had something to do.
Then I'm transferred to a proper bed, with comfy mattress and adjustable back and legs. Getting in it is nasty, but I do get a glance at the plank.
They DID make a mess with the plaster!
The nurse rolling my bed has problems. The hospital is busy renovating. Orthopedics has been relocated to the second floor, but the nurse rolls me
around on the first floor before she realizes. Then she takes me to the second floor. I'm rolled into room 223, which I have to share with two lovely
ladies. The first one, across, is an 87-year-old woman who fell with her bicycle and broke her pelvis. She's bummed because she'll miss out on
Carnaval and can't stop talking about it. The second is a 65-year-old lady who slid with her bicycle in the snow and broke her leg just below the
knee. They hand me the local newspaper to read, which, believe it or not, was one of the things I most desperately wanted to do while waiting for the
ambulance.
It's nigh 11AM, and I have a good time reading. A nurse drops in to ask me whether I want an epidural or a full narcosis. Not liking the idea of being
conscious of the operation, I choose the latter. I'm given a dark blue operation jacket, with snap fasteners on either sleeve and on the back, which
is largely left open. Fortunately I can still wear my undies.
A nurse shoves a form under my nose. I need to sign it. What's it for? She explains: "When people get out of narcosis, they can get unbalanced, and to
protect them from falling we pull up the bars on either side of the bed. But because that is a breech of your personal freedom and privacy, we need
your signature before we can do that, otherwise we can get fined."
I'm also told I may leave later in the day.
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BBP
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12:25: I'm rolled to the preparation room. The nurses get lost and move me to the sleep room first. Then they move me to the waiting room, where I
have a nice chat with the nurses. A friendly middle-aged male with glasses has his buzzer go off. I recognize it as a waltz from Chopin. Nice! Takes
my mind off. I say "Chopin!" The man smiles at me, but as he is buzzed away, he leaves.
12:45 I'm at the preparation room. I talk to the nurse who arranges my IV about music. She puts patches on my upper arms and left thygh. More and more
people drop in. I'm getting increasingly nervous. A male, around 35, is trying to sell the mobile phone concept to me. The man with the Chopin
ringtone is there too. He sees a tear coming out my eye, and gently caresses it away with his left thumb. A plastic oxygen mask is put over my nose
and mouth. I can hardly breathe through it, and start to panic. The friendly Chopin man tells me to think of beautiful beaches and palm trees.
14:45: I wake up. In panic. My lower body is put on it's right side, but my upper body is lying on its back. It is very painful. I cry and look around
dazed, panicking. I notice the Chopin man again. His buzzer goes again, playing a tune I know well. I think... and say "Slavonic dance by Brahms...
no... Dvorak..." He smiles. I look around and notice a very cute fellow across from me, still sleeping. Few things soften my heart as much as sleeping
men; kittens, squirrels, and The Ugly Duckling.
Two women lie on my right hand side.
A bell rings in my head. I tell the Chopin man: "I was wrong. It was Hungarian Dance #5 by Brahms." Which it was. I primarily knew it from "Pigs In A
Polka".
The cute fellow in front of me is moved away. Darn.
15:15: I'm moved back to the department. As I'm rolling past the waiting room, I spot my dad. He made it! He walks along. We talk a little in room
223. Some time later, my sister drops in too! She gives me a huge package with two books, a Franka comic, chocolate and a puzzle book.
Dad told me he got very frightened from reading the mail. He immediately went to Geldrop, but he arrived just after they rolled me into the operation
theatre, so he had to wait. In the mean time he phoned my sister and grandmother. My sister said I broke my ankle in 3 places, and that my boss Nel
was very worried about how upset I was. I give her the details of two friends and my boyfriend, and ask her to mail and/or call them. We talk a lot to
the other patients and to each other, and we are having fun with the freshly installed high-tech TV system!
The St Anna system was only installed a few days before. We were guinea pigs and so we could test it for free! Later it would cost 5 euros per day,
which is nasty if you don't want it, since it holds everything. It has:
Television. All 31 channels available in the region by cable. It's digital TV, so channelhopping takes a while every time.
Radio. Some 30 radio channels.
Internet. Although loading takes a while, the mouse cursor is slow and using the keyboard is a drag, I could still notify forum friends and e-mail my
boyfriend.
Telephone. It couldn't call cellphones yet, and it only started working on Saturday, but the remote also was a phone.
Entertainment. The system had a vast amount of series and films installed. Quite a few were dopey Dutch shows, but there were some classics. I noticed
Casablanca and The Godfather in the titles. Some work to do! Yay!
During this time, a nurse lets me bite a wet washcloth around 5. I'm not yet allowed to drink, but she noticed my lips were very dry.
Around six, I get a glass of water.
Somewhere here, I'm given another painkilling injection.
Visiting hours run from 7 to 8PM. Room fills with visitors.
At 7:30, I'm given 2 rusks with cheese. I love rusk, and I love cheese. And I hadn't eaten since my egg sandwich the night before. However I took one
bite, then had to put it down. I just couldn't eat anymore.
Not much after, I have my Exorcist scene, which I sometimes refer to as my vomit party. First I start feeling sick. I ask Dad and Sas to find my puke
carton. They find it, but too late. The first batch has already come out, spreading over my operation jacket, bedclothes, bedsheet and pillowcase. Not
to mention my face and hair. A second stream does
make it in the proper location. My stomach calms down. I notice most of the puke is yellow, bile.
The nurses come rushing up quickly. Two friendly ladies tell me to sit upright. They take my pillow and refresh its case, remove the top half of
bedsheet from the mattress, remove the duvets, clean my face and change my shirt in the process, tell me to try and push my bottom half up and remove
the sheet, at the same time replacing it with a new one. I tell them they did fantastic work. They glow.
I take a sip of water to get rid of the taste. Not much after, I start feeling sick again. The carton is pulled in time to catch some more bile. A
fourth carton is pulled out and used. The nurses dispose of them. Two more cartons are brought up in case.
I decide only to sip some water, rinse and spit it in the washcloth to get rid of the taste.
I´m sick again. Where on earth does it all come from?
Later I heard from my 65-neighbor that a lady visiting 87 across really got sick from watching this.
20:00 The nurse gives me medication against sickness. My family is sent away, and all visitors leave. I fall asleep.
20:50 I wake up. The curtains around my bed are drawn, I don't know when this happened. I feel much better! Soon enough I grab the remote control, and
put on Casablanca.
Unfortunately the sound is quite soft, I can't put it any harder, and if anybody else talks in the vicinity I don't understand it anymore.
I eat the rusks.
21:00 The nurse comes in. She's glad to see me better.
However she brings little but nasty experiences. First she tells me that I have to get my body going again, which means I have to pee. She shoves a
potty under my backside, and I have to "let go". When I'm finished, she takes away the pot and cleans my private parts with a washcloth.
I still get a notorious medicin that almost every operated person gets: Fragmin. It is a thick substance that is injected below the skin. It prevents
thrombose. They're administered with a thick needle into the belly or upper leg skin. The stuff leaves bruises. And it can hurt.
I'm also given my first batch of pain killers: a capsule of stomach protector, two 500 mg pills of Paracetamol and 250 mg of Naproxen. I chuck back
all pills at once, but have to spit them back into the cup and take them one by one.
21:15 I lose my concentration on Casablanca and switch it off. I fall asleep.
Leaving won't be for today, but maybe tomorrow.
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BBP
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Chapter 3: Day 2, Thursday February 4th 2010: One Foxy Lady Lies Here.
0:00 I'm awake, kept awake by the snoring of my neighbor. A handsome fellow drops in. He introduces himself, and tells me to get some sleep.
5:00 I wake up again and switch on the TV. I watch Casablanca in full this time.
7:00 Wake up call Room bathes in light. My curtains are opened. I'm given my morning tablets: a capsule of stomach protector, 1000 mg of Paracetamol
and 250 mg of Naproxen. I'm given three doses of both painkillers per day. The breakfast lady comes in. I'm also given my chart, on which I need to
select my dinner.
7:15 My breakfast is a pot of tea, two slices of bread with cheese, a slice of "ontbijtkoek" (Dutch spicy cake, primarily made of rye and spiced with
cloves) and an apple. Even though I am very hungry, I just can't manage to eat. My ontbijtkoek barely goes in. The tea hardly goes either. I didn't
even try to eat bread.
On my menu chart, I select half a portion of red cabbage with apple, half a portion of potato/cheesecake, and half a meatball with a strawberry
dessert.
7:20 I'm rolled into the same X-ray room. The assistant notices I'm much less shaky. My foot gets more photos.
8:00. I'm bathed by two nurses. One is a twenty-ish female, the other a handsome twenty-ish male. They wash every inch, except my hair. The cutie,
Dimple, washes my left breast. My wounds are being re-dressed. A lot of blood has come from the cut on the right, it's even on the plaster. The nurse
cuts off quite a bit from the "sock" in it. The left one looks "good" according to the nurses, but the angle makes it hard for me to see it. Besides I
can barely stomach it. She cleans my wound with chlorine. She re-attaches new bandage, fixes them with more bandage, puts my foot in the cast, and
re-wraps it.
This is the procedure for every wound-cleaning. I won't repeat it here.
Dimple selects my clothes for the day. He gives me the shirt with a fallen Donald Duck on it, and my dark-blue undies. He's very entertained by my
shirt.9:30 I read the newspaper. I'm in it! An article about accidents because of slipperiness speaks of a "woman who fell at 7AM on Gulbergsven, who
had problems with her ankle and was taken to the hospital."
10:30 The doctor and physiotherapist come in. They give me my X-rays and talk me through the fractures. The front part of my tibia, that makes the
"bowl" the joint moves in, broke off. I also broke my fibula, and the connection between the two leg bones.
The therapist lets me walk to the toilet and bathroom doors with a small rack. And back again.
11:00 I'm allowed to go to the bathroom with the rack. However, two nurses must accompany me, take down my undies and make sure I'm seated, and pull
up my undies and walk me back again. It's slightly embarrassing, but there's nothing I can do about it. Fortunately all nurses do their best to make
me feel comfortable.
11:30 I eat the apple. It's great to have something in my stomach! And it stays in there too!
12:00 Lunchtime! I'm given tea and tomato soup. The soup is delicious!
13:00 The bed across is pulled away. We're getting a new patient!
14:00 My sister brings me e-mail from my friend and my boyfriend! I'm very happy to read it. She also gives me my diskman, with 4 albums: Primus -
Pork Soda, DAAU - We Need New Animals, Zappa - Waka/Jawaka and Zappa - One Size Fits All. I give her back the Aeneid she gave me, saying it's a bit
"much". I'm not in all that much pain, but it's like there's a lot of background noise while you try to concentrate.My sister takes photos of the
X-rays, me and of the view outside.
Proudly I show off the X-rays and the newspaper article.
I also get the Volkskrant of today. The boss gave it to me.
A friend phones, we chat.
16:00 The new patient is a 35-ish male, father of two lovely young kids. He has a hernia. His wife sits by him all the time, and like all mobile
people in the ward, she ends up doing various chores for us.
17:15 Dinner is served. It's delicious! Everything is! Unfortunately, because I was so sick when I ordered it, I don't get much. The serving nurse
says she'll "see what she can do". Later she comes back with instant mashed potato, carbonade flamande and beans. It's not as good as the previous
meal, but I eat it.
18:00 My nausea has stopped, so my IV is removed! The needle will be stuck there for longer, and it's not in a convenient location.
19:00 Visiting hours again. I tell my sister to update my boyfriend on my condition. I get upset in the last 15 minutes of the hour. Dad has finally
given me a hairbrush. I needed that.
Apparently I will have to leave tomorrow. The hospital first needs to arrange my home help to dress my wounds every day.
I have a better night's sleep, but still I wake up at midnight.
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BBP
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Chapter 4: Day 3, Friday February 5th, 2010: The Electric Chair
0:00: Caretakers rush in for unknown reason. The handsome chap from yesterday closes my curtain so I don't wake up every time the door opens.
7:00: Breakfast, which is tea, 2 rusks with cheese, and an apple. And painkillers.
8:00: My first shower! I'm finally able to wash my left hand. It's delicious!
It is awkward that two lady nurses have to attend the shower, but the warm water is very soothing.
My wound is sprayed carefully with water. It doesn't hurt. The right wound has leaked a grisly green fluid.
My IV needle is removed.
8:20: All wrapped up, I return to room 223. My bed is shoved to the corner, in its place there's a blue chair. If you grab the arms and throw back
your weight, the leg support rises and the back comes down. Because of the simultaneous move, it is impossible for me to get out of it alone. Moving
in it is nigh impossible too.
9:00: I ring for somebody to take me to the bathroom.
9:10: A nurse walks in. She'll have to get somebody else to accompany me. Apparently she forgets.
9:30: Physiotherapist comes in to help me with my exercises. Eventually he takes me to the bathroom. I have to go back all by myself.
10:00: One of the nurses hands me the TV-remode and headphones.The 87 lady across is going to a home.
12:00: Lunch. They're dealing out kroket (/dutch meat snack) sandwich, but I don't like this snack and opt for the chicken soup, a bun with cheese and
tea.
13:00: Physiotherapy with crutches is very unstable. The doctor tells me I'm not allowed to do it on my own.
13:30: I watch The Little Princess, starring Shirley Temple. I have to switch it off when the visitor arrives.
14:00: Dad comes to visit. He tends to forget that my leg is a very sensitive area and sometimes puts stuff on it. Even the newspaper hurts, but when
he put a bag on it I sure could hit him.
15:00: Nurse drops by with the drinks. I get hot cocoa!
16:00: We get a new patient. A 22-year-old lady with an abcess.
17:00: Dinner: meat ball, potato/cheesecake and cauliflower. The cauliflower has been cooked to death and is quite miserable.
19:00: Visiting hour. I'm still in the chair. It's getting very painful: my heels hurt and are growing blisters. My backside hurts.
Dad lets me call Granny. He also lets me text a friend who we couldn't reach.
20:15: Just as Dad is about to leave, my friend calls. We chat and he will stop by tomorrow.
We discover the TV phone works! Dad tells me he'll call me later in the evening.
20:30: I'm finally put in bed. The nurse moves my bed, but accidentally pulls out the plug of the remote in doing so. Now the phone, TV, internet,
radio and entertainment won't work. Spend the remainder of the evening chatting with other patients and solving puzzles.
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Chapter 5: Day 4, Saturday February 6th, 2010: Moving
7:00: Slept all through the night, which is rare, but delicious. Same breakfast as yesterday. But no painkillers.
8:00: Because shower is a wee bit too much difficulty, I decide to wash myself in bed. The wound is still leaking, but much less.
I have a discussion with the nurse. She wants me to sit in the chair, but I explain it was quite a painful experience, and I don't want to do it
again.
With the TV broken, I finally read the Franka comic and the book my sister gave me. The book opens with an introduction about how people read
less-and-less, and it ends with a 1950s Dutch reading encouragement slogan: "Don't wait until you've broken a leg to have a reason to read." Best
laugh of the week!
I also watch over my neighbor's shoulder to her TV. Particularly Animal Planet with cute kitties.
10:00: Physiotherapy goes so well I'm allowed to go to the toilet by myself. Yay! Progress!
12:00: Mushroom soup. Somebody is sent over to fix the TV.
13:00: Hernia is allowed to go home.
14:00: Visiting hour is quite busy! Dad stuffs me with apples, bananas, apple juice, orange juice, chocolate and coffee rolls, and postcards from
grandma and him. Nel and Henk give me a postcard, flowers and a box of chocolates. My friend gives me chocolate and candles. Since I don't see my
friend very often, he stays a lot longer than the afternoon visiting 45 minutes. He leaves at 15:45, after a lot of chatting and doing chores for all
the patients.
15:30: As there's no new patient rolling up and the TV can't be fixed, my bed is moved to place 2 instead of place 4. This means I'm now at the window
side, at the back of the door. 22 now lies next to me, and 65 across from me. 22 explains how I can e-mail with the TV-set. It's a painstaking task.
First you have to select the input field, then the Keyboard button on the remote. A keyboard appears on the screen. Using the arrow keys, you can
select the desired character, then press OK on the remote. Even the simplest message takes forever to type, but it kills time. I write a brief note to
my boyfriend and write notes on three forums, killing a good hour.
17:00: I discover the system has Looney Tunes.
17:30: Dinner. I have boilt potatoes, a plasticky omelette and mixed vegetables. Not pleasant.
19:00: Visiting hour.
20:00: I watch The Little Princess.
22:00: A nurse comes and thinks it's a good idea to tilt my bed at an angle for the night. She puts my footside up and I have to move up my headside
to prevent nausea.
For the next few hours, I try to sleep but feel dazed, I try to move my leg again and again, to no avail.
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Chapter 6: Day 5, Sunday February 7th, 2010: Zzzzzzz
1:30: I give in and call the nurse. My hip and knee are painful from the extra weight. She tilts back my bed. She also gives me the rack so I can go
to the bedroom. I share one with 65, but that means the rack is sometimes out of reach. I manage to get back to sleep, but the morning comes too
soon.
7:00: Breakfast. Afterwards I'm weighed, making me nice and depressed.
8:30: I get to have another shower! Most of it I get to spend alone. My wound is leaking much less. When I come back, the blue chair is there again.
I'm put in it.
10:00: I'm finally told the reason why I have to stay the weekend. It is my own squeamishness for injections. The hospital arranged somebody to wrap
my wounds, but it took more time to get somebody for the shots. That's because insurance doesn't cover it. I'm not forcing myself. I'm not going to
give myself shots, this far I should be happy I don't vomit every time anymore.
12:00: Lunch. Beef soup. Because they take up so much space, I give some chocolate and the coffee buns to the nurse bringing around the soup.
14:00: Visitors. With me in the chair, there's ample room for dad and sis to stay.
15:00: I go back in the bed.
17:15: Dinner. Penne. Unfortunately the method of boiling, cooling down and reheating just prior to serving is a good way to kill penne.
18:00: Bed 4 is removed. It'll be a woman with hip problems. The operation runs late and she'll be brought in the next day.
19:00: My last visiting hour with visitors. We discuss the Eurovision Song Contest, which will be on this evening.
21:15: I decide to torture myself and watch the Dutch Eurovision contest. 5 unknown artists will perform a cruddy song. The same song every time!
After all 5 candidates I can't take anymore and switch it off.
23:00: The cursed song rushes on and on in my head. Not even the diskman with DAAU's Broken can give any solace. HELP!
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Chapter 7: Day 6, Monday February 8th, 2010: I'm Going Home!
7:00: After another bad night, breakfast is welcomed. This time I'm not given my dinner menu. Hmmm...
9:00: A nurse, with apparent considerable experience, puts me in the most perfect way. With my legs higher than my knee, knee higher than hips, and
nose at height of toes. It's brilliant!
12:00: Vegetable soup.
13:00: I discover Tom & Jerry on the St Anna Entertainment.
14:00: Visiting hour. Dad won't come 'round this time, but I watch cartoons instead.
15:00: The physiotherapist removes me from my perfect position. I'm mildly cross. I get chocolate milk from the nurse.
16:00: New patient is an old and dazed woman who just had a hip operation.
17:00: I'm not getting any supper. 22 gives me her vegetables and dessert. The nurse rounds me up another meal with rice, which is mighty tasty.
18:00: I'm going home! Dad brings me a wheelchair. Putting my foot on there is troublesome, since my legs are too long. The nurse puts my foot on a
pillow. After packing my stuff, giving the juice packages to 65 and saying goodbye to the fellow patients. Leaving takes an hour, but I have some good
fun rolling around in the wheelchair.
Getting in the car is a little tricky, but I manage.
19:30: There's one border separating me from my home: the door. My one leg is not going to jump that high. I turn my back to the door, sit on the
step, and have to shuffle on my
butt until I reach my bed in the living room.
20:00: I read the envelope with patient information, all the stuff they injected... Whew! I had an opiate! Other stuff in the envelope is an
appointment card for Feb. 15th, when I'll get a special cast to walk in. There is also a care resignation form for home help, a recipe for the
pharmacist, and information for my GP.
23:00: I fall asleep.
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Chapter 8: Tuesday, February 9th to Sunday, February 14th 2010: Rear Window
Dad brings me breakfast right after he gets up, which is 6:30. After that, he won't be home until 6PM, so I tend to have to go without lunch. I do
manage to make myself tea, and I can serve it clumsily using a Donald Duck chair with caster wheels. In the mean time, I wait for my home help, and
wait for Dad to come home. What to do in my mean time? I forum. I write on this. I watch Rocky Horror. I sleep. I read the newspaper and look outside
at the birds.
It locks me up. The Hitchcock DVD box I got is lying on the ground, so I can't play any of the films I still need to watch from those. I can get a
drink, but I need to drink it in the kitchen (or make a mess while serving), so I have to try to roll the Donald Duck chair along while balancing
myself on the rickety rack.
All the time I'm stuck in the living room/kitchen/toilet. Our lavatory is too small to accommodate my leg, so I have to keep the door wide open and
sit sideways on it. I feel locked up. On occasions I can jump into the curtains like a little kitty.
Tuesday: Dad drops in the recipe at the pharmacist's. All it says, is that I need Fragmin, the thrombose injections I hate. I call them later to check
that it will be delivered.
All seems to be going well.
Around three, a 30s lady, comes to do my intake and refresh wound bandage. She explains all the dealings, hygiene matters, privacy matters, she
interrogates me about everything.
In her report I later read that she thinks I'm nervous. And I'm reminded of the difficulty some people have with Dutch spelling.
She can't wrap my wounds. The hospital told me that the home help would bring the bandage, but the lady claims otherwise. She calls the pharmacist to
be sure, and then St Anna to make them call the pharmacist.
Later in the day, a cute fellow brings a large bag and a small bag. It has wound wrappers, bandage tape, latex gloves, cleaning wads and chlorine, but
no bandage. The home help will just have to re-use the same one every time.
Fortunately a nurse was already scheduled to give me an injection at 7. This is because Fragmin must be administered every 24 hours, so you can't
change the injection time too often. At the hospital I got the sting at 21:30, but on Monday I got one just before I went home, at 7. The care will do
that in one go during the week, between 11 and noon, but not on the first day yet.
So there was a nurse going to gome anyway, and she'll have to wrap my wounds as well. The wound is dry.
Wednesday: Home help turns out to be the mother of a girl I was friends with in elementary school. We chat nicely. She gives me the prick in my belly.
It leaves a HUGE bruise and hurts for the next three days.
Dad is home late. He has a political debate.
Thursday: A younger help, she doesn't wrap the cast as tight, which is more pleasant. I don't feel the sting at all.
Dad is home late again, for another political debate.
Finished reading Agatha Christie's Sleeping Murder.
More snow.
Friday: Same nurse as the day before. She puts the foot bandage (that secures the wound patches) slightly off, so my heel is bare. It hurts a lot and
sands across the plaster.
Saw a squirrel. In the snow.
Tonight is a performance of Pat Metheny, which I'll miss.
Saturday: A male nurse this time. Dad mistook him for a girl.
I miss the carnaval parade.
Sis comes in the evening. We watch Hitchcock's Rear Window, about a man with a broken leg who is stuck in his apartment for weeks and starts to play
voyeur.
Sunday: Snow again.
Same male nurse came.
Played Trivial Pursuit with my sister, and won. Read a Steinbeck short story.
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Chapter 9: Monday, February 15, 2010: The Longest Day
The day of my walking cast! Or so I was told anyway.
I wake up at 6, when my dad and sister wake up. Sas has to go home to Amsterdam early so she can get to work. I try to sleep on a little. Had a decent
rest this night, after two hard nights.
Walking out the door goes easily, and even the grit front yard is overcome without trouble. I lie down on the back seats and brace myself. Dad took a
day off especially to take me here.
We arrive well in time, and somehow manage to find the way to the plaster room. In the waiting hall, a Turkish woman with three daughters is doing her
best to control them, but of little avail.
Eventually we're shown in. An amusing piece of paper with the text "Shins: part of the body that finds your furniture in the dark" graces a closet.
The view on the 4th floor of the snowy village of Geldrop is baffling.
The leg brace is cut open for the last time. The plasters are removed. A 30-ish doctor with a shirt that says "BONESETTER" lets the doctor look at the
stitches in my left wound.
They look great apparently, even if I can hardly face them. After some waiting with the unpleasant background noise of crying children next door,
BoneSetter gently removes the threads. Little pain, but I can't help but feeling nauseous afterwards. The doctor puts my bed down and lets me lie
until it subsides.
I take good advantage of the situation by giving my leg a thorough scratch.
A bald doctor with glasses is going to put on the plaster. I'm told that, in a week, I can try to put a little weight on it. They'll give me a special
shoe for it.
But all that is to change in a few agonizing minutes.
After the surgery, the nurses re-used the plaster that was put on there before the surgery, to keep my foot in place. Apparently I should have been
given new plaster.
The brace I had, put my foot in a slight tip-toe position. This caused my calve muscles to shorten significantly. Twelve days after the surgery my
foot can't be put in a proper 90 degree angle anymore. And the doctor tried so hard...
That hurt. That really hurt. It doesn't compare to the initial straightening, but it hurt quite a lot all the same. My calve muscles are stretched too
far to be bearable, like molten cheese or strings of spaghetti, but less tasty.
Eventually the doctor decides to let me rest a little, then come back and see how far it gets.
Not as far as is needed. Next week I have to go back, and then I'll get my special plaster. Damn it.
14:00. While my father is out for a cycle, I discover my period has started, a week too early. I can't wait for Dad to come back. I crawl upstairs to
my bedroom, to see what a mess my family made of my bedroom. My Tim Curry VHS Collection is all over my knit pile. Clothes are everywhere.
My hygiene products are on the top shelf. I need to stand up. How?
Eventually I manage with an old kiddie chair. I change myself and take the products downstairs, manage to put them in the toilet, hop back into the
living room and sit down. How on earth am I to manage that extra bit of worry over the course of the week?
In the evening, with snow, I have to dispose of the first bit of mess. The worst part is manoeuvring the rack past the bicycles in the shed. But I
managed.
Also I crawled up an additional time to my room, to take my fingernail clippers and files.
In the afternoon, Dad calls the hospital. I still need to take Fragmin. Today I get off though. Whew! I did move around a lot today, so I'm not yet
worried about blood clots.
In a tribute to Rear Window, I pen "Here lie the broken bones of B.B. Ploeg" on my cast.
In the mean time, a train collision in Belgium takes 18 lives.
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Chapter 10: Tuesday, February 16th to Wednesday, February 24th 2010: Ten Days, Not Ten More Days, Describing Inane Boredom
Tuesday: Home help came on time, for just an injection. Pulled down 4 Dogs Playing Poker from my bedroom, tried to watch it, but it's just too
boring. Watched some comedy with Tim Curry, and Rocky Horror, did some more browsing on YouTube. Read newspaper about train crash, managed to solve
the crossword. Discovered I once bought a game for next to
nothing that really turns out to be valuable. Found 2 clues to the Saturday Volkskrant cryptic puzzle.
Wednesday: Folded laundry. Had a sweet e-mail from my BF. Published the first 8 chapters of Peg Leg. Had some fun browsing YouTube and looking
at old Tim Curry-interviews through the Wayback Machine. Friend mails to ask me to help writing on an article. Finished watching 4 Dogs. Also watched
Rocky Horror. Took some knitting material downstairs, with 2 patterns: one for a cable-knit headband, and one for a hat. Tried making the headband,
failed miserably and pulled it to string. Had a go at the hat with a circular knitting needle, but it was a drag to work with, so I quit. Tried the
headband again with the same results. Feeling down.
Thursday: Washed my hair. Played around on YouTube. Started on my headband with more success. Played Gabriel Knight 1 and got killed twice by
mummies, then I had it and quit.
Friday: Dad is off to sweep the market place for his political campaign. I had a little extra sleep. Played GK1 again and got beyond the
mummies. Played Grim Fandango.Home help came rather late, past 12, but it was the same girl who came on Thursday and Friday last week. She's great at
injections, I didn't feel this one at all.
Dad came home for a short while, had a small political discussion with him. I did some more knitting and discovered I made a nasty mistake last night.
Dad unfortunately did not get home until 20:30. He was exhausted, but still made me a little cheese soufflé.
After knitting more and making still more mistakes, I pull out all of today's work and then some, right before the nasty error I made on Thursday.
Saturday: Same home help as Tuesday. I made an ass out of myself forgetting her name twice.
Dutch cabinet Balkenende-IV collapses. Heh heh heh! Looking forward to the Monday newspaper. Went upstairs and showered in the bathtub. I feel great.
I finish Grim Fandango and play some music. Walking on crutches is going better and better. Hopefully I'll have mastered it by next Thurdsday.
Crawl up the stairs to find my video of a now ended Dutch satirical show named Kopspijkers. We're looking for one quote that goes:
"Do you think there'll be a Balkenende-II cabinet?"
"Oh yes, and a third, a fourth, a fifth..."
"Really?"
"Yes, but they'll all only last for a couple of months." Kopspijkers predicting the future. But there's 6 hours worth watching. Gulp.
I write and mail a small report on my visit of De Efteling last December.
I finish knitting my hairband. It turned out very well!
Sunday: Up late. A new lady for the shots. Watch bobsleds. Unfortunately, my father falls ill and spends most of the day sleeping. Looks like I
have to bake myself an egg.
Bake my egg around 7, and decide to heighten my protein intake with a liver sausage sandwich. I soon find out that this sausage was the culprit: Dad
had food poisoning, and several hours later I barf my egg back up into the toilet sink.
I keep telling myself I'll feel better tomorrow, but right now my oesophagus burns.
Finished watching all Kopspijkers, didn't find the quote I was looking for.
Fortunately my friend phoned.
Monday: Had a bad night, ended up vomiting every hour. Poor Dad is sick too. It was nasty getting up for the home help, another fellow. I just
lied down afterwards, didn't walk him out. It took quite some time before my stomach was settled enough to start my PC routine. After that, I ducked
into bed again after that. Today I only ate an apple and a cracker, and that cracker felt like way too much.
Tuesday: Great sleep, dreamt of music. Read the newspaper. Initially I felt too sick for anything, but I'm all-right now. I even had a little
bun with chocolate sprinkles and apple juice for breakfast. Spent some time on YouTube. Home help was the same as on the 19th, who gives the good
injections. Watched Rocky Horror. Ate an apple. I reinstalled my favourite computer game, Gabriel Knight 3: Blood Of The Sacred, Blood Of The Damned.
After playing GK1 so much, Tim's acting on it takes a little swallowing.
I brought some Donald Duck comics downstairs. Few things can cheer me up like dear old Donald, and he's helped me forget much misery before. Taking it
downstairs is not easy, but I manage somehow.
Wednesday: Next to no sleep, my leg just wouldn't feel right. Had the final shot, the lady took the home help files with her. I watched Duckman
and played GK3. Had tomato soup for lunch. I watched Psycho and convinced myself once again that it is one of the greatest films ever made. Heated the
oven for the ham. My first proper meal since Saturday was terrific!
I set up a hat with the circular knitting needle I failed miserably with several days back. I already made 4 rounds, so I'm making progress!
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Chapter 11: Thursday, February 25th 2010: Return Of The Bonesetter.
Today the newspaper's late, but my boss delivers it herself, along with a card with greetings from all my collleagues! Lovely!
It's the big day: the day that I'm given a shoe! Dad brought me to the hospital again. We arrive at the hospital not long before 1, and we're helped
more or less at the same time as two others: a young boy with a broken wrist, and an older woman.
We're taken into the Cast Removal room. This has four plank-beds, that can be separated with curtains. Fortunately I get one at the window. so I can
enjoy the view of the village again. It's very picturesque, showing some of the landmark buildings of Eindhoven, and the pretty little houses below.
It's a lot warmer than ten days ago, over 10 degrees Celsius. My coat is a bit too warm for the occasion.
First the boy with the wrist is helped. He's, understandably, very scared of the saw, and he cries a lot. It's not the most assuring thing just before
you're helped in a similar way for the first time.
After the boy is freed from his setup, he is crying because it's uncomfortable now that the plaster is gone. He's removed from the hall, and then it's
my turn. Gulp...
There are two people working in this room: an older, somewhat creepy fellow with blonde curls and glasses with a shirt that says "Casting Director",
and a younger man with the word "Bonesetter" on his shirt. It's a different one from the Bonesetter of the 15th, but I know him anyway.
"Hey, I know you! You straightened my ankle on the 3rd!" Fortunately, he answers politely "Oh yeah, that was on the ground floor at the first aid.
You'd remember such a thing, huh!" He didn't seem to recall me though. That's one embarrassment I'm saved from.
Bonesetter removes my temporary cast with the saw. It's a bit larger than I had imagined. It vibrates harder too! But I barely notice the saw, except
for the bit near the wounds. After that, he cuts the bandage bits at beginning and end. He tries to open the cast, but he can't. "I'll go get the crow
bar!"
Uh oh.
Fortunately the crowbar is a lot tamer than it sounds. It's about 25 cm long, shiny chrome, and looks like a stapler on one end, like a garlic press
on the other. Swiftly, the white muck is cracked open.
As my cast is removed, I'm surprised at how thin my leg has become.
BB: "Look at how thin my leg is!"
BS: "Yes, that's normal, now that the swelling has decreased..."
Dad: "Shall we do the other leg too?"
BB: "Yes, down from the hip please!"
I give my leg a good scratch. It's so good to touch your limb after such a long time! Of course it will now be a month before I'll see my leg again.
But before he puts on a new cast, he sprays my leg with soap. It looks just like fake snow. "Hey, fun for Christmas!" I say. Bonesetter gives me a
washcloth and lets me clean my leg. He also does my sole, which is very tickly.
"In a minute we're going to put your foot straight, that may be sensitive..." Bonesetter informs us. There's that word again...
...and it was no lie. Both he and Casting Director try to put my foot straight, in a 90 degree angle. There's a pillow under my knee that is supposed
to bend my leg: it's easier if the knee is bent. At the same time, all my muscles tighten. I groan and squeeze in whatever is available: my father's
hand, my hairband, the plank...
"No, relax!"
"No, YOU relax!" I think, but saying it is a bridge too far.
"Breathe in and out calmly, don't puff, that's for something else..." Bonesetter jokes. I didn't hear the last bit, and I get cross when I see my
father smiling at it.
After a while, it is in the correct position. My achilles tendon is at its tightest, and my calve muscles ache. It hurts. It HURTS! Bonesetter asks:
"What colour cast do you want?"
It was hardly something I cared about at the time, though I'd planned to say green. Bonesetter went to the back, brought back the blue plaster, and
wraps my leg. Once it has set a little, he gives me a little plastic shoe, shows how it wraps around your foot, and attaches it loosely. I'm not
allowed to walk on it for another two hours, while the cast sets, and I need to keep crutches at hand for the first while.
Bonesetter walks away after lowering my seat. I hoist myself back into the wheelchair, and look at my X-ray on the computer screen. We ask Casting
Director if we can go now.
"Oh sure!" He shakes our hands. "Thank you for the hurting!"
Afterwards, Dad treats me to tea, and we head back home.
The road home is long. For some reason, it is extremely busy, and it's only a one-lane road (small towns...), from which you can't escape once you're
on it: you have to go
straight for a few kilometers. Slowly we inch forward. Some impatient people turn and drive across the grass to try and find another route, but
thankfully my father stays in
line. All the pulling up and slowing down puts extra stress on my leg.
Eventually we make it. After some time I pull my shoe tighter on my foot. I often set it on the ground, sometimes I even dare to put a little more
weight on it, but while my tendon is stretched out I'm careful.
I knit 4 more rows on my hat, then cast off to see if it is big enough. It is, and I put it back on the needle. I knit 4 more rows, finish the Donald
Duck comics, and while Dad's out, I watch Rocky Horror and Simpsons. A friend of mine phones. We chat for well over an hour. She'll come over next
Wednesday.
After she's hung up, I hit the sack. There's some swelling in my foot.
Dad comes in a little late, and very excited. His debate went very well and he got a beautiful bouquet of flowers.
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Chapter 12: Friday, February 26th to Sunday, March 21st 2010: Four Weeks Of Leg.
Friday 26-2: Dad has another meeting today. He'll be home very late, as he has an appointment with a colleague afterwards. I'm very worried that he
won't come back.
Read the newspaper, and sit behind the PC playing online games and reading forums. I play GK3 and take a shower, play keyboard, bring a Donald Duck
ordner downstairs, update my website, boil and eat 2 eggs and apple sauce, watch Simpsons, knit some more... Fortunately Dad comes home OK.
Saturday 27-2: Had a nice good night of sleep. My friend drops by to visit me. He signs my cast. I also play a lot of keyboard and spend a good two
hours with Gabriel Knight 3. Dad has another debate, but as his party wasn't planned in, he got home early.
Sunday 28-2: I play more keyboard, play more Gabriel Knight, finish my hat and get iffed when my father is working way past healthy bedtime.
Especially when he uses the paper shredder. We have an electric one that makes a lot of noise, and I was just about to fall asleep finally when he put
something in there. He wrecked it too, and then spent some time repairing it. Ugh.
I also started on a similar hat as the one I made before, because I had a lot of wool left anyway. I'm halfway already!
Monday 1-3: First day of March. Sirens go off at noon. Dad put the trash out, and I got some extra sleep.
Finished GK3 and took a shower. Dad had another meeting. Grandma phoned, we had a nice chat. The storm turns out to have caused some damage in the
backyard: a conifer has blown over.
Tuesday 2-3: Been outside in the garden on crutches, to check out the storm damage. I couldn't pull up the plant, I'll have to ask my father.
Dad made it onto television and he asked me to watch said episode, but I couldn't find it. Installed a screen recorder, so I could record some Gabriel
Knight 3 videos. It's what you get when you're bored.
The programme was completely miserable. Tried to de-install it, but that was a nasty task and I had to restart the computer.
Wednesday 3-3: The big day for my father: elections for the municipality.He takes me to the ballot box. I do my civil duty.
Watched Blue Money.
My friend came to visit me, we had a very cosy day with pizza dinner. Dad had to go to the party party, which started at 10PM and ran until deep in
the night. I did hear him come in, but I was too far gone.
My sister has a new cellphone. And a new MP3-player, since she lost her old one. That's my sister!
Thursday 4-3: Dad stayed home. He didn't wake up until very late. I made my own breakfast and started up the PC myself. Started on another hat, a
green one, using the same wool from my notorious vest. I've started playing Phantom Mansion again, an on-line SokoBan-like game.
Friday 5-3: Finished my green hat. My sister came over and stayed up very late, which is always annoying.
I also showered. For some reason the water barely came out, which was very vexing.
Saturday 6-3: Started on a new hat for my sister. She's made an argument with my father and spends the day sitting up in her room, annoying us. I did
the first washing up in over a month. When sis comes down, she has cooled, fortunately. I have a crutch day and only walk on crutches. I try to
shower, but the water isn't coming properly out of the shower head: only a little, and only cold. I hop back freezing. Evening is spent watching
Hitchcock's The Man Who Knew Too Much.
Sunday 7-3: I'm up first. I open the curtains, hook up the PC and make breakfast for me. Dad comes in when I'm about to start eating. The plan is to
take me upstairs, but my dad prefers it if I continue sleeping in the living room. Again it's a crutch day. When I sit on the couch, Dad trips over my
leg. It hurts like hell, but there's no serious damage.
My sister's hat messes up. I pull it out and start over again. The result looks great!
We watch a manga my sister got called Paprika. We switch it off after fifteen minutes. While my sister makes soup, I watch Spirited
Away.
Later that evening, we play Trivial Pursuit. I win with the question: "What is the sequel to The Three Musketeers?"
Monday 8-3: Sister leaves for Amsterdam again. I'm having a bad day. The crutches broke quite a few capillaries on my left hand, by consequence it's
sore, and I'm back at the rack. Somehow, today, I just don't feel like anything. Even the shower doesn't feel good.
There's a little bit of the last snow floating from the fluffy clouds. My boss calls to check up on me, and to tell me about the latest mishaps at the
delivery station. Henk fell during his round and bruised all his ribs.
My meat had gone bad. Fortunately I didn't eat much, but I'm careful all the same. Dad and I opted for an early night, we went to our beds at
21:30.
Tuesday 9-3: After Dad had left, I went back to sleep again. I feel much better. I read a little, took all my Donald Duck maps upstairs and brought a
new one downstairs, I played some Frank Zappa and played keyboard.
Watched Rocky Horror. I cycled on the hometrainer. And I did the full washing-up while my father was away at a business meeting.
Wednesday 10-3: Tried to get more sleep after Dad left, but failed. Got on my Internet routine, lunched, showered, played keyboard, had tea... Dad got
home kind of late and as a result, I ate cheese souffle.
Thursday 11-3: Again I failed to get some sleep.
Meanwhile, the Rotterdam municipality voting is getting a lot of negative heat. We have our own Florida! One party, LR, didn't like being only the
second-largest party and demanded a recount, which is happening now. And it's found out that this party, LR, has urged its members to get as many vote
authorisations as possible: they even rounded up people to do the LR voting for them! The prosecutors are now checking into its legality. In other
words, the newspaper was very entertaining.
Friday 12-3: No newspaper. Didn't do much special: showered, played keyboard, and I cycled 2 km on the hometrainer.
Hans van Mierlo dies and Wouter Bos resigns from politics.
Saturday 13-3: Somehow I just can't wake up. Read the newspaper thoroughly. Desperately trying to stay awake.
Tried to find out how to get to the dentist using the bus. It's quite complicated.Going by bicycle sounds ever more appealing. I try to make it to the
bus stop by crutches. It's not far, but I'm exhausted when I get there... and I need to get back. Eventually I make it, but don't ask how.
Later in the day, my father is taunting me by putting horrible music on, so I decide to bring the four hospital-CDs upstairs. When I open the living
room door, I lose balance and drop two of them. I put too much weight on my ankle. OUCH! My Waka/Jawaka jewelcase breaks.
Sunday 14-3: Pi-day. Had another bad night's sleep. Rotten fridge!
Dad bought a book especially so that he could travel by train for free. He's off to visit my uncle, who is in hospital with heart problems. He's out
for the day. I do my usual Internet rounds, I shower and play keyboard, listen to Type-O-Negative, cycle 2.6 km on the hometrainer, read Donald
Duck... For dinner I boil two eggs.
And I install Freddy Pharkas on my PC. It was on my To Play list.
Monday 15-3: After another bad night, I turn back on my side after Dad made me breakfast. Fortunately I get sleep, and I wake at 10:30, after some
good rest. Read the paper, did my usual Internet rounds... I dug up enough inspiration to start on a little story. I made my first paces on my own!
Tuesday 16-3: I don't hang around much after Dad leaves, I go straight to the shower. Then I listen music and play keyboard. I remove the guitar from
its bag and try to fit my crutches in there. The end comes out a little, but it's no big deal.
I walk a lot! From my keyboard all the way down to the computer! Whee!
I try to see if I can cycle outside, after all the hometrainer exercise. It's no problem! Except my bicycle did sustain some damage from the fall.
Racing through the streets of my neighborhood for the first time in well over a month makes me feel ten: young, powerful and full of mischief!
But there's a downside to everything. Today my period started and I do feel very sick from it. Not to mention I have routine checkup with the
dentist.
The dentist was, as usual, good to me. No cavities, just a quick tartar removal after 45 minutes of waiting.
Fortunately I had a book with me, which I nearly finished.
My bicycle did sustain some bad damage. There's a nasty wobble in the rear wheel and I fear it needs to be replaced.
I spend the evening as usual, finishing my book, playing Freddy Pharkas and watching Simpsons. Went to bed early.
Wednesday 17-3: A twelve-year-old girl who had been missing for a week, was found dead, buried in the garden
of a neighbor.
A Dutch nurse will likely be acquitted after serving sentence for wrongful imprisonment. She was found guilty over statistical evidence that was later
found to be false, and charged with the murder of 7 and three attempted murders.
At least, that's the outside world. I'm inside, making the occasional trip to the garden to dispose of the mess, trying to write on my story, solving
puzzles, reading...
Thursday 18-3: Dad is off to The Hague, for politics and for visiting Grandma.
In response to my boyfriend's mail, I do my best to make nice pictures of myself. It's hard, and I'm not very happy with the results, but I look
allright on them.
Uploading them was even harder. Apparently our PC suddenly was on an unknown network. I restarted the PC immediately, but when the asshole who did it
tried to get in on our account again, I shut down the PC for a few hours.
Friday 19-3: Had a hard day. I was gloomy and cried a lot. Went to bed early.
Saturday 20-3: Woke up late. A hacker has messed with our websites, replacing them with his own homepage. I could restore my own PackardGoose and
bonny.ploeg.ws reasonably quickly, and sent an abuse complaint to MSN regarding two of the three e-mails in the new index. Dad restored the rest of
the sites. The e-card section is still down.
My keyboard practice went bad. It's just not my day.
My boss called. She will call her boss for me, so we can get the insurance forms.
The Exorcist was on, but I missed it, it was too late, and I'm sure it'll be on TV again. I did watch another Hitchcock: Torn Curtain,
starring Paul Newman and Julie Andrews.
Sunday 21-3: I reported the hacker to his authorities: his server, and Hotmail. Hotmail blocked his accounts, but I haven't yet heard from the server.
Dad went to the flea market and bought a VCR. He has to digitize a number of videotapes for a colleague, and for some reason they didn't work with the
video we are now using for that purpose.
The new purchase didn't work either. Dad resorted to installing our regular use VCR and using that one. Again he is getting stripes by the score. He
records quite a few... and it honks up the PC.
I finish reading another book.
In the evening we watched another Hitchcock, Marnie. It's a great film! And: Sean Connery!
Also I doodled a lot on my cast. It now has, aside from the inspiring Rear Window text and the names of my sister and my friend, there are
some lines of poetry and a nice dragon. Well, as nice as you can make it in four marker colours on sandpaper-like material, but hey! Who could resist
such a canvas?
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BBP
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Chapter 13: March 22nd, 2010, Oh Sweet Day Of Freedom!
I couldn't get much sleep at night. And I had a bad dream. Oh dear...
As I'm waiting in the hospital main hall, I meet a nice guy who is also suffering a leg injury and condemned to using crutches.
Of course, I'm not so much condemned. I brought my crutches because I'd be needing them after the cast comes off.
Outside the cast room, there is a bit of a line and we have to wait for over half an hour. Magazines are ample, but most of them are for women. I may
be of the female persuasion, but I'm hardly in the target audience for most magazines. I page a little through a Top Gear. My father is bored, and I
pass him some feminist reading material as a joke. Oh, what fun-loving people we are.
Again the BoneSetter who also straightened my ankle is on duty. My cast is however removed by another worker, an elderly gentleman. He's amused by the
dragon I drew, but he has no choice but to cut off its tail.
My leg is GROSS. It is a little thinner, much less muscular, the pores are bloodred, there are a few bruises that haven't healed yet, but worse: the
skin is all flakey. That's how much skin cells a grown human sheds in a month. Ewww.
He helps me into my sock and shoe. What a service!
Anyway, I can't go home just yet. I still need to get an X-ray, and they're out in the basement, while the plaster room is on the top floor, and quite
a bit away from the lift. It's very nasty to hop all the way, particularly since using crutches is quite heavy anyway, and the floors are more
slippery than a polished pumpkin peel. We eventually make it without accidents, but for the way back, Dad arranges a wheelchair.
A handsome doctor takes my X-rays and lets the next woman in. She also chats with me when we go back with the lift, and when we're both waiting to be
let in again.
Again, the same doctor brings me to a cushioned plank. He lls the doctor and asks what is to be done with me now. He can look at the X-ray from a
distance. The man on the other end apparently thinks I still need a cast, but the doctor helping me decides against it.
After all, it's been seven weeks! I need to come back in two weeks to have a check-up on April 7th, after my birthday. In the mean time, I can wear an
ultra-tight sock for extra support.
We go back home. Bang on cue, a mechanic rings the bell. It's time to check up on the heating system. Of course what I need most now is a bath, but it
has to wait! In the mean time Dad gets cross with me because I'm spreading little skin flakes all through the house. I'd be glad to vacuum it all up,
but it'll have to wait.
Finally the mechanic leaves. And Dad is going to the GP, so I can relax all I want in the tub.
I don't let it run very full, about halfway. It's enough! I scrub my leg and have a great time, being alone with my leg, giving it a good scratch... A
lot of skin flakes off. My right wound has closed up nicely. The black crusts fall off and leave a beautiful skin. In fact, most of the skin comes
off, anyway.
After I'm finally done playing with my leg and the rubber duckie, I lay back and relax for a while, but I decide to cut my tub visit short when I see
how many flakes are floating in the water. It's far from pleasant.
My keyboard practice is going lousy again. I really need more sleep at night.
Dad comes back from the doctor, all good. We eat early since he has a meeting, and do the last bit of recording.
Dad comes back early. The host of the meeting had to cancel the event, and forgot to let my father know.
Naturally he is cross.
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BBP
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Chapter 14: March 23rd to April 6th 2010: One Whole Year Older.
23-3: Quiet day. Finished Freddy Pharkas, did the washing up...
24-3: Another quiet day, replaying Freddy Pharkas, did the washing up, and did some vacuum cleaning. I took a nice long bath. Dad had another meeting.
I went to bed at 10, but left the light and PC on. Dad came home at 23:30, I'd already fallen asleep and was only half responding. He went to bed at
midnight.
25-3: Dad woke me up once again, much too early.
Robert Culp passed away. I only know him from Voyeur, but I made a video walkthrough of that. Consequently I have some 30 videos of him on YouTube.
I walked all the way to the Action store. Bought a hat, long gloves, underwear and tea. It was a long walk, and I had to rest twice, but I made it!
And then I found a letter in the mailslot, at the wrong address. Walked all the way there and delivered it correctly. I met Henk on the way and we
chatted a little.
Dropped in for an early night.
26-3 Yesterday's walk really helped. I can now flex my foot further.
Restarted playing Gabriel Knight 3, did the entire first day in one blow and had to update my site again.
27-3 Dad has a political meeting in The Hague, so he brings me along to visit Grandma. She's lovely, but unfortunately due to 50 years of smoking,
she's attached to an oxygen tube. We chatted a lot and she made me a footbath. A neighbor always puts her spare jigsaw puzzles in front of her
basement door, and today she got a nice puzzle ball, which she gave to me. She allowed me to rummage through all the other jigsaws that have been
piling up in her basement. We brought some 15 with us.
Journey home was perilous, Dad was very sleepy, but fortunately a radio interview with one of my biggest heroes Kamagurka made the two hours seem much
shorter.
28-3 Summer time, an hour less sleep.
Solved the puzzle ball. Had a very bad night's sleep, cried a lot.
29-3 Went back to sleep after Dad left, and woke up at 11. Read the renewed (to tabloid size) newspaper, solved the puzzles, set the microwave to the
correct time. Solved several of the jigsaws I was given. I had a hard time at a specific one with lots of sky.
30-3 Stayed up, showered and cycled to the second-hand store in Geldrop. It's a trip I used to make every two weeks, through a beautiful nature area
to a fun destination, but with my leg up in the air, well... I didn't find much, though I'd expected the place to be flooding with goodies. Bought a
copy of The Worst Witch and a game.
I also went to the supermarket and bought peanuts. They have disappeared from our supermarket and Dad goes nuts without them.
I solved more jigsaws. Dad finally took the mattress upstairs, so I'm back to sleeping in my own room!
31-3 Woke up at 9, took my time getting up, read the newspaper, played GK3... I keep updating my GK3 homepage, wow! It's so comprehensive!
I started on a jigsaw of a pretty German village in Sachsen.
1-4 April Fool's! I get tricked into thinking Tim Curry is to retire, but in return I fooled three people in thinking I'll close down my forum. Plus I
pulled Dad's leg twice.
My Sachsen jigsaw proves to be too much. There's sky, there's a large section of tree, and all the pieces look alike! I gave up. Then Dad had a go,
but he gave up too. He counted the pieces and says 2 bits of edge are missing.
I look up a hazelnut cake recipe, to bake on my birthday.
2-4 Found back the two missing jigsaw pieces. Started on another one with boats. It's a painting, but it's very solvable all the same, finished it on
the same day too!
I went to the grocers to buy ingredients for my cake, but the only hazelnuts they have are unroasted and packed in small containers, so I'll have to
spend 6 euro on the nuts alone. The supermarket hazelnut cake costs about as much, so I give it a miss and buy an instant-mix of apple crumble.
3-4 I'm very down and break down in tears over my keyboard.
Dad bugs me about what he should get for my birthday. I have no idea! I spent two bloody months inside.
Sister comes home late, consequently we eat late.We all watched Hitchcock's Family Plot. I'd seen it before, but forgot much detail. Sis has gotten
addicted to a word scramble game on Facebook. I play it with her.
4-4 My 27th birthday! Unfortunately I'm still down.
I come down early, at 10. Dad is still busy putting up decorations. I make myself a little breakfast. The newspaper hasn't come in.
My sister comes down at 12. I'm busy with one puzzle, one of those Triomino things that is driving me bonkers. Eventually I manage to mess up, even
though I did a methodical attempt, writing down everything.
My birthday gifts aren't plenty, which is natural since I didn't ask for anything. My sister gave me a Moke CD, a Chet Baker CD, a DVD of Mahler (the
composer biopic), plus she has a gift she ordered, but that had not yet come in.
Dad gave me a "kwartet" card game (which is similar to Go Fish, except we make a neat pile with 2 players and use no pile with more players) with
cartoons on all cards, a book with song lyrics by Drs. P, and a How To Do Stuff book, which teaches everything from basic knitting to jumping of a
cliff, mixing martinis, CPR, giving birth in a taxi and frying tarantulas.
We played kwartet several times, and Trivial Pursuit (I won) and Cluedo (I won, it was Professor Plum with the candlestick in the lounge).
I baked a nice apple crumble.
My sister goes out to buy a newspaper. In the TV guide, I see I missed Howl's Moving Castle. Drat.
One of my friends called, but right when we were about to eat. I called her back afterwards but she couldn't be reached then.
The BBC also gave me a birthday present: Jonathan Creek. I had to record it and I missed the first ten minutes.
5-4 I solve the frog puzzle, discovered I was THIS close to the solution the day before.
We all have fun with the cryptic puzzle in the newspaper, which we manage to solve.
I spend much time on the phone with the friend I couldn't reach yesterday.
6-4 The newspaper crossword is unusually hard. I find about five words on my own and have to get Dad to help me find the rest. Internet really helps
here.
Cycled to a second-hand store, found nothing there. I went on looking in shops and finally found hazelnuts at the Turkish supermarket nearby.
Watched the Jonathan Creek I recorded. Rediscovered Worn Down Piano by the Mark & Clark Band.
Dad repaired my bicycle. He replaced the rear wheel. The original, well... My bicycle is pretty old, Dad bought it for me at the second-hand store
when I was in desperate need for a new two-wheeler for my route. It's very old-timey, has beautiful old stickers, and has lovely original features.
Such as the white tires.
Unfortunately it had rusted throughout, and we didn't find out until much later how badly.
Initially my front tire kept on getting flat, even after I replaced it. It turned out the wheel was so rusted, chips of metal were puncturing the
tire. Dad cured it by sanding the wheel and painting it. Since then, I have had no problems with the front wheel, except for one leak caused by stray
glass.
The pedals were very squeaky. At one point, the pedals became stuck altogether. I used sillicone lubricant to get them going again, but eventually
they'd get stuck again, not to mention the horrible mouse noises. Some of the metal bits on the side of one pedal broke off while I was working, which
was troublesome. It was then I realised how bad the condition of the metal was. I let the bicycle repair man install new ones (we performed such an
operation ourselves once many years ago, and that cost us so much in drills that broke off that having a professional do it is cheaper), and then
those problems were gone, poofed out of existence.
The rear wheel has the heaviest load to bear, and this caused many flat tires, even explosions (which makes your heart race when that happens on a
quiet morning at 6AM).
It had enormous trouble with the spokes. One was out, and several were loose, when we bought it.
One day, a colleague who brings the evening paper, had his bike stolen outside the delivery station. He had already loaded it with newspapers too!
Since then, Nel makes us lock our bicycles. Unfortunately, I'm a bit forgetful. I broke 4 spokes by moving my bicycle while the lock was closed! They
just... PANGed out! That's not right!
I folded the spokes in whenever there was a loose one, so it wouldn't bother me whenever I was cycling. With such an old and heavy bicycle it's not
easy to install new spokes, so I just used it. Either way, my wheel was made of stainless steel, so having a spoke less won't result in instant
deformation, the way it does with aluminum wheels.
For my birthday, one of the few things I asked for was a new rear wheel. I didn't get one, but when Dad decided to check up on my bike, he realized we
still had one from an other bike, he decided to surprise me and install it. That was nice!
In total, my bicycle had 7 broken spokes. Guk.
My bicycle may be older than me. It may be a little too small for me. But it's sturdy and has a great character! I love my bike. I named it Pitje
because it's so energetic.
There's one nasty thing: That stocking, that tight elastic that was supposed to support but I ended up preferring barefoot... the stocking... I may
need to return it. But I haven't seen it in 10 days. Where could it be?
I search the lounge. It's not there. I am totally convinced it is not in the lounge.
I search my bedroom. I can't find it. I am totally convinced it is not in my bedroom, and that it's probably still in the lounge.
I search the lounge again. I can't find it. I am totally convinced it is not in the lounge and that I missed it while browsing my bedroom.
I search my bedroom again. I can't find it. I am totally convinced it is not in the bedroom and am at a loss for where I put it.
I search the lounge. I can't find it. I am totally convinced it is not in the lounge, and I don't want to dig through my bedroom again.
Much later, while I'm in bed, I have a brainwave. I also put clothes in the laundry basket. It might just have sneaked along.
And, what do you know, it's there! I was right! It was not in the lounge or in the bedroom!
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BBP
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Chapter 15: April 7th, 2010: And that's the end... NOT! Oh no...
As the weather would be lovely, 16 degrees Celsius with no rain and much sun, and as both our bicycles were in great condition, Dad and I decided to
cycle to the hospital.
Dad's bicycle wasn't in the pantry! Uh oh...
Bad memories pop up from the time in our old house, when Dad had left the shed door open for the dryer, but came home much later than expected, only
to find my new bicycle had been stolen. It was a birthday present, I had had it for 6 months and I was mighty proud of it. Not surprisingly I was
heart broken.
Fortunately, after opening the door to the backyard, we rediscovered that this neighborhood is much less unpleasant than the old one, and the bicycle
was still in the yard.
Phew.
It's a beautiful little cycling trip, through the rural area where Vincent van Gogh grew up, through the natural habitat of a very rare species of
toad. Most of the trees aren't yet fully bearing leaves, but all the same it is a gorgeous setting, disturbed only by the sounds of the nearby
highway. Occasionally, a visit to the area gives a nice bird spotting: swallows, buzzards, pheasants, and many others I am not able to identify.
We're greeted by a friendly nurse at the 4th floor, close to the plaster room. Dad and I have to spend a considerable time waiting. I read some
Reader's Digest, which is hard to digest. Particularly the jokes.
Eventually I get a short talk with the doctor, and a handsome trainee. The doctor doesn't do much. He asks me to demonstrate the flexibility of my
ankle. After I remove my footwear, he moves my foot around a bit.
He is slightly worried about my limping, and says it won't cure by itself. He refers me to a physiotherapist.
He inspects the X-rays from two weeks ago, tells me the bones weren't completely healed there.
In two months, I have to come back. Then the swelling will be gone, they'll have another X-ray and the doc can tell me what will happen from there. He
tells me that the end of the plate in my fibula ends a little later than the bone, and that might be irritating. If it is, they can then decide to
have out the hardware.
And, as an added bonus, once the swelling is gone, I will be able to feel the screws through my skin. Not a pleasant thought.
After we're done at the hospital, we cycle to the second-hand store in Geldrop. It had only been 6 days since my last visit, and indeed I found
nothing.Not much happens the rest of the day.
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BBP
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Chapter 16: April 8th to June 1st, 2010: Muddling Along Across the Deep Blue Sea
Thursday, April 8th: Teddy Scholten, Dutch singer and TV personality, winner of the 1959 Eurovision song contest, passes away.
9-4 Boyfriend sends a sweet e-mail, I write back.
10-4 Bad night's sleep.
Had my first brush on the Saturday supermarket mayhem since the accident.
I start on playing more songs on my keyboard: the old Bach menuet which slipped from motor memory, and waltz opus 64.2 by Chopin.
11-4 Bad night's sleep, dropped off late, had a nightmare. I cry a lot during the day.
I taunt my dad. His birthday is coming up, and now all is reversed: I get to bug him with his wish list.
12-4 Another bad night, with nightmare. Dad presents his wish list. It's not going to be easy!
I cycle to the second-hand store near our supermarket, which is quite a ride by a busy road.
The visit is quite fun, although there wasn't much. I bought a musical CD which turned out to be completely horrible.
I also got a lot of books, a magazine holder and a puzzle game.
In the evening, he has a meeting. Now that he's not working anymore I get to spend little time by myself, listening to lots of music. While Dad's off,
I play Gabriel Knight and watch Rocky Horror.
For the 14th, the house needs to be clean when somebody comes to fix the heater. Dad cleans a lot. I take my share: I scrub the toilet on the top
floor. It's now squeaky clean.
13-4 My period started, explaining my nightmares and depressed mood. It got a little messy during the night, and I have to spend quite some time
scrubbing the bedclothes and mattress. I change the bedclothes too.
Fitted sheets are always a pain in the neck. I'm a right klutz too, so it usually takes all my limbs to stretch the blue sheet properly. And now that
my foot is stiff... Ah gaw. It's dreadful. but I managed. And if it comes undone during the night, I'll get very cross.
And of course, after rearranging my bed, I play some music, one of my CD jewelcases falls between bed and wall, and I have to move the bed to get it
back. One of these days...
Dad goes off to visit another second-hand store. He comes back with some nice CD-is. Whee! We have fun with Monty Python, and less fun with one with
Andrew Lloyd Webber-clips, with too much Sarah Brightman.
14-4 The mechanic who'll repair the heater is due to come today.
I have an in-take meeting with the physiotherapist. A young, handsome man who I'll refer to as PT, is to perform his crafts on me. We talk about what
happened, what my injuries and complaints are. And we agree to meet again the next day.
At home I realize that it's the only day I can do birthday shopping for my father. Drat!
15-4 I hear the shocking news of the passing of Peter Steele, frontman of Type-O-Negative. He's a "guilty party" in constructing one of my all-time
favourite albums, Slow, Deep and Hard. He will be sorely missed.
I have to get up early, since it's time to hit the town! It's great to visit the centre again, even though I'm restricted in moving, so I skip the
bookstores this time around. And I'll have to save the visit to the record store for later. But there's another new store where I find quite a few
nice presents. Eventually I got a nice pile.
One of the shops requires you to leave your bag in a locker. Unfortunately the wrapping paper I purchased already didn't fit in there, so I decided to
take it with me.
I browse the extensive multimedia section. Eventually I find a birthday present and a Zappa DVD, I watch some Tim Curry trailers and play a cruddy
musical collection in the try-before-you-buy booth.
And then it was time to get back... and I couldn't find my wrapping paper.
Oh, to hell with it! That stuff was a bargain anyway. So I head back to the lockers... and discover the paper is still on top of it. what a piece of
luck!
After the spree, I went back home to be ready in time for physiotherapy. PT will see me in a very sweaty room, and he tried to use some spray to ease
it without much effect.
He grabs my left foot, pushes it in all directions, and gives me two exercises: one is to hang on to a table and stretch my calve, trying to bend my
foot as far as it'll go without pain, and the other is standing with the front of my feet on the first step of the stairs, and lowering and raising
myself several times.
After that, I go to the supermarket to get the whipped cream and butter for the cake.
We play a silly game in the evening. I win.
16-4 It's Dad's birthday! Oddly he received birthday greetings from my mother. The two haven't seen each other in twenty-five years, and trust me,
it's better that way.
I do the washing up, bake him an egg, bake a hazelnut cake, and visit the market to buy cheese and turnip plants. We wait with the presents until my
sister arrives.
Sis is unfortunately in a bad mood due to problems at her work, but my cake tastes nice.
A volcano erupts in Iceland. Ash clouds cause European countries to forbid flying on a certain altitude, so many flights are cancelled, and many
tourists are stranded.
17-4 It's a nice sunny day. In the evening we watch one of Hitchcock's finest, Vertigo.
18-4 A large family fight over absolutely nothing leaves me crying on my bed for a large portion of the day.
In the evening, my sister and I play a wordgame on her Facebook-account. We manage to make a huge score several times.
19-4 Up early to visit the PT. My swelling is less, and movement improves! On top of the three exercises, I now also have to practice walking
properly, and I have so massage my scars every day to prevent them from getting stuck to the ankle. He also studies my X-rays.
Later I visit a second-hand store. Dad is off in the afternoon, giving me some time for myself.
Unfortunately I'm not myself and end up crying much.
In the evening he has a meeting. I play Gabriel Knight 3, which is always fun.
20-4 I walk all the way to the grocers for a cardboard box. In my teenage years I was a die-hard Primus fan. Consequently I have many beer glasses
printed with the beer brand of the same name. They all honk up place, which is something my bedroom lacks, so I finally get started on wrapping them
in newspapers and storing them elsewhere.
I also get started on the notorious Zelda's Adventure. It's a CD-i game that was made by the time the console was about to die, and since the first
two Zelda games for the console were very badly received, only a few were printed. The game has become rare, and collectors can pay a fortune for it
on auction sites. I now have two copies.
It's not that bad, really, but it is badly acted, and the text is sometimes very hard to understand.
21-4 I wrap up three more glasses and put them away.
22-4 No newspaper. Rats.
The PC is giving trouble, particularly with loading ads. Some GoogleAds cause your webbrowser to jam. Starting up the task manager was a good
workaround, but somehow certain internet pages (a web forum I frequent, and even YouTube films) won't load if there's a bad advertisement. Dad
downloaded and installed an ad blocker, but that is a pain in the neck. Now every time you visit a new website, the browser uses a different tab. And
there's an automatic spell checker, which is great "fun" when you're a polyglot.
23-4 Dad is out to The Hague today and tomorrow, so I have a lot of time for myself. And, what do I do with it?
I have a nice shower, I spend an hour reading a joke thread on a forum, I cook a little, I watch Rocky Horror and play Gabriel Knight 3. And I have to
re-update my GK3 homepage again. Gah.
And before you know it, I forget to write for a week. Until 30-4, it's all written from wayback memory, so bear with me fellows...
25-4 Went to a fleamarket, bought nothing there. We went to the mall. Dad bought a DVD by his beloved Sjefke van Oekel, who I can't stand. I found an
Alice DVD box, the 2009 mini series that never aired around here. I bought it. (Yes, yes, only because it has Tim Curry...)
26-4 Back with my newspaper round. It's still hard work, but at least the weather is good. I watch the first ten minutes of Alice.
I went to the second-hand store, where I got attacked by a spider, bought some books and a CD, and found the soundtrack to The Three Musketeers, the
1994 Disney production (yes, with Tim Curry). Aside from the droolish title song, it's pretty much a standard soundtrack, great for background but not
too much to listen at, it dictates an athmosphere but pushes itself to the background.
I also found a March 1996 Charts CD, one of those MTV compilations. I bought it since it has Babylon Zoo's Spaceman, and Robert Miles's Children.
Latter was a bit of a letdown, but Spaceman... man that track is weird!
Dad has a meeting. While he's away I watch Rocky Horror and play GK3 and have to update my homepage on it again. Can you see a theme developing
here?
27-4 My first physiotherapy after starting on my round. It's at 9AM, so there's not much time for reading the paper. My PT likes music much and we
discuss Joe Bonamassa.
I watch more Alice, but unfortunately the first DVD stalled about halfway. Drat.
28-4 Alice works on the PC! I watch the remainder of Disc 1 and a little of Disc 2.
29-4 Watch the remainder of Alice on TV. It's a fun show, although the plot gets a too sappy at times, and some parts of the end section are
ridiculous.
PT was fun, we discussed music again. I decide to stop flirting with my PT, though I doubt he even noticed it.
30-4 Today is the Dutch national holiday. The Queen celebrates her birthday today (it's actually in January), she goes out with her family to visit
some Dutch towns and do all dopey things. One tradition is a free market: everybody is allowed to sell their excess goods on designated places. It's
huge, and there's a lot of junk! We went to visit the Eindhoven free market. Unfortunately the bad weather of the morning meant there weren't as many
sellers as usual. Dad found a nice radio and two advertising lamps, but early on the route, so he had to leave them. Fortunately I knew the people
from that stall. I bought a cane there, which is all I found.
All day I hoped somebody would ask me what the cane was for, so I could say: "What the hell happened to my umbrella?" But it was not to be. I did meet
a nice friend who inquired about my ankle, but I still wonder how she knows.
My sleepy 215K inhabitant town called Eindhoven is now in "emergency mode". Hooligans of a Rotterdam football team have come here to riot, so the
police is following them.
1-5 Labour Day is not traditionally celebrated in The Netherlands, since our national holiday is celebrated the day before and most people are still
fighting hangovers come morning.
I go out to the supermarket with Dad, which is a small nightmare. Two nasty kids run around the place, and my leg is preventing me from breaking or
making sharp turns with the cart. We're offered some free cheese, something neither of us could ever say "no" to, but it's disgusting, it almost
tastes like detergent. it dampens the mood even further.
Dad is going to the communion of the son of a friend, so the house is all empty again! I'm making good progress on the "new" piece I'm studying on
keyboard. It's Chopin's waltz op 64/2 in C sharp minor, which I adored from the moment I first heard it. I've tried to play it before, but gave up
because my instrument is only 5 octaves. But now I'm practicing, and even with the limited size you can get very far. Plus there's a piano down
here.
2-5 A lazy day, I still need to rest from my newspaper rounds and the free market. Slept late and had a good time resting quietly.
Saw a doctored image of the poster of Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange, one of my favourite films. It inspired me to make a Donald Duck version of the
poster. It took two hours, and I got a bit carried away by Chet Baker while inking it, but it's a nice little drawing all the same.
Friend's birthday. I need to congratulate her!
3-5 Newspaper round went good. Had physiotherapy, which was cosy as ever. After that I went on my biweekly trip to the Geldrop second-hand store. I
bought two dictionaries for my collection (Dutch-Hungarian and Mongolian-German) and a nice little book by Thea Beckman.
Dad has a business meeting. I spend my free time playing YouTube music, watching Rocky Horror and typing this.
4-5 Finish reading the nice little book by Thea Beckman.
On May 4th, the casualties of the Second World War are acommemorated with a solemn memorial at the Dam in Amsterdam. At 8PM, the Taptoe (a little like
the Last Post) is played, then the country is silent for two minutes, then the national anthem is played, and then the Queen, prince and resistance
members all place garlands at the WW2 monument. The ceremony is televised, and is visited by about 25,000 people. I went there too once.
Last year, on April 30 (Dutch national holiday, see above), a madman drove his Toyota into the crowd while the Queen was visiting Apeldoorn. The royal
family escaped the assassination attempt unharmed, but seven people died. The scare was major, and this year at the memorial, it was clear that it
still is present.
During the two minute silence, a man started talking in an understandable language, then screamed loudly. Panic ensued. The royals were ushered to a
safe place. Tens of thousands of people were running for their lives. In the chaos, around 60 people were injured, some have broken limbs.
The master of ceremony did manage quickly to restore the harmony, and the service was continued with a minute silence, the anthem and the garlands.
The screamer was apprehended almost immediately. In the panic, a man dropped his suitcase. He was arrested, but later set free.
It was bizarre!
5-5 Liberation day. Every five years, it is a national holiday. This year too. No newspaper! Just a lazy day. Dad fixed my old computer and I
installed another live action adventure game on it, called Black Dahlia.
PT called. He would like to shift our appointment.
6-5 Went to the therapist, but slightly drowsy. It's extra hard after a free day. At the PT I get new exercises. And I have to work out on the
equipment, lifting myself up on my left foot alone. OUCH! I also have to balance on something hideous, and I have to do another painful thing.
...I'd rather have the massage.
7-5 My boss finally got the insurance papers from work! Let's see if we can take some money from it!
Black Dahlia is getting tough...
In the afternoon, a large package comes in. Dad is suspicious. It may be a bomb! Or maybe his stupid youngest daughter clicked on something she
shouldn't have.
But no! It was a belated birthday present from my sister: a Samsung laptop! Whaaa!
8-5 Black Dahlia completely gets snowed under with my new present. I struggle with the adware, and with MS Office.
9-5 I install Muppets Treasure Island on my new top. It is troublesome.
The unholy idea gets into my head to make a video playthrough of it. I find BB Flashback Express, a nice little freeware that records it. I also dig
up a VOB player so I can look at the videos on the disk. For some reason they don't work in the game.
Visit Eindhoven second-hand store, I come home with a Hamlet-cassette box and several books.
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BBP
Super Administrator
Posts: 8055
Registered: 3-10-2005
Location: Eindhoven, Netherlands
Member Is Offline
Mood: Cheerful yet relaxed
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10-5 Recording the game is getting more and more frustrating. Running two meaty programmes at the same time is always troublesome on a computer.
Somehow, MTI crashes often, and then it corrupts itself so I have to de- and re-install it. Raah!
11-5 Finish up on recording and spend a lot of time uploading it. And I watch Little Miss Sunshine.
PT massages me, and he sets me on the machines again. My foot is getting in ever better shape!
12-5 Rough day at work, much rain. I make a mistake and lose my newspaper. Plus my period has started, which is not pleasant, particularly in
combination with paper route and rain. Gah.
The biggest news comes several hours later: a plane crash in Libya costs the life of 103 people, among them 61 Dutch victims.
13-5 Assumption Day. I don't have to work, but we're visiting Grandma. Very cosy.
14-5 Miss my newspaper AGAIN.
15-5 Miss my newspaper AGAIN. What's wrong with me? Car won't start when we want to go to the grocer's.
16-5 Dad spends some time tinkering on his car. It still won't start.
17-5 Green container is emptied, so I can do some gardening now. I went to Geldrop and bought a paper model of the Philips-pavillion from the 1958
World Fair in Brussels. And I make part 1 of my Scream pastiche.
18-5 PT. I'm used this time. My PT will be taking an increase-mobility-course, but one of his colleagues who has already taken those classes shows him
how it's done. I have to get on one knee, then I get a large broad band around my heel, and I have to move my left knee forward. It's creepy sitting
in such an awkward position on such a narrow bench up so high, but my heel does stretch more. The ankle doesn't hurt, but it's terrbly painful in my
upper leg muscles.
19-5 I make part 2 of my Scream pastiche.
20-5 It's a beautiful day! I spotted two squirrels on my newspaper round, I got a real good look at one of them! They're such pretty little
animals!
PT was OK, I had that extra-mobility thing again. I decided to wear my Ecco shoes to him because my left foot is falling even more through the arches,
twisting to the inside.
Dad fixed the car! We go out for the groceries. And I buy a T-shirt.
I enjoy watching my puzzle in a forum game go by unguessed. As a hint, I put on my Brave coat and record myself playing Bach's Toccata (and Fugue) in
D minor, and I upload it to YouTube!
I visit the people at Gulbergsven who helped me. One turns out to be a Hitchcock fan and gives me his copy of North By Northwest! The other family is
very nice too. I have a go on their piano.
My Ecco's are over 10 years old, and they finally give in. The rubber is gone.
Dad goes to Belgium to pick up a tape recorder. I watch ROcky Horror in his absence.
In the evening, our website turns out to be hacked. Everything on it is gone. Including my forum. Fortunately Dad could contact the server helpdesk
and get a complete backup.
21-5 Another bright day with squirrels.
And before you know, it's mid-June. My diary has become a bit of a bore since then. Suffice it to say that my leg is now mostly operational. I still
visit my cute therapist, but the bend-down is already back to normal, so we've stopped with that.
On June 2nd, we visited the St Anna again, for my final check-up.
The St Anna is still being renovated, causing some lifts to be out of order, and people are requested to travel by stairs. I'm a stair person, but on
the trip up, we use the lift. The nurse at the 4th floor (5th for Americans) tells me I need to make an X-ray, so we go down to the basement. Dad
takes the lift, I go by stairs.
The stairs are blocked halfway, so I need to get out of the case at the second floor, then take the lift. The lift I stepped in doesn't go to the
basement, so on the ground floor I have to get out again, to continue my journey down. Dad reaches the X-ray department before me, but only by ten
metres.
The X-ray was taken swiftly. We went up to the ground floor to wait. Dad went to get extra money while I read the newspaper.
When the hour of the appointment approached, we went up all the way, Dad by lift and me by stairs. I could see that the second floor wasn't blocked at
this staircase.
But as it turned out, the third floor was, and so I went to the lifts and stepped into the same one my dad was in. Much hilarity.
We have to wait a considerable time until I could finally have my final check-up. But fortunately the bones have healed well, and he's happy about the
flexibility of the joint.
So I'm getting there, knitting an end to this epic snooze.
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