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Winter Bouquet, coloured pencil, 12" x 9"
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Blog 1 2022
On December 14, 2021, my world
changed in seconds when our dog, Shadow, pulled me down the stairs
chasing after a squirrel. The fall landed me in hospital, my first
time aside from giving birth to our children.
Time in a
hospital was very stressful. Over the past two years, I have gotten
used to a quiet home where our puppy, Shadow, is the primary source
of entertainment. At the hospital, many different nurses took care of
me. Some I saw for a couple of shifts, others I only saw once. I felt
very alone even though a hospital is a noisy place. The nights were
long because the pain and the noise on the floor kept me from
sleeping. One person was screaming in pain for hours, instruments
beeping, nurses taking vitals and giving medication. Most of the
nights, I was awake for hours. Even sleeping pills did not help. I
could hardly wait for the sky to lighten up.
I was a
prisoner in a bed. I was stuck in one position, lying on my back. I
could not even adjust my legs because I could not move my left leg.
Luckily, I could put myself in a semi-seated position with the help
of the electric hospital bed and the bedrails. It is amazing how few
thoughts we spend on marveling about all we can do until we cannot do
them anymore. Luckily, I had only abrasions on my hands and a sore
left shoulder, so I could still keep myself busy.
Especially
in the early morning hours of the first couple of days, I cried quite
a lot. The pain and the self-pity for all that was lost and the slow
recovery ahead of me crushed me. I feared that all the hard work I
had put into the last year would be for nothing. I was afraid that I
would never keep up with my husband in our activities again. I feared
that Shadow would not pay attention to me anymore because I could not
care for him for a long time. Once, I picked myself up again. I read
a bit, practiced Spanish and drew whatever was around me. Luckily, my
in-laws had sent a beautiful winter bouquet that brought colour into
the room.
Starting with the second day on the floor, I did
my physio exercises dutifully. Once or twice a day, the nurses
transferred me with a turning device to a chair. Once Ingo dropped
off my laptop, I wrote tons of emails cancelling all kinds of
appointments and tried to keep up with my regular posts. However,
only when I picked up my drawing materials did I lose myself and
forget about my dreary situation for a while. I only finished the
coloured pencil drawing of the beautiful flower bouquet after
returning home because I could only sit for about two hours each day.
Coloured pencil drawings take even longer than needle felted
artworks. They require patience, something I need a lot of these
days.
On the sunny days, time passed fast when I enjoyed
long naps warmed by the rays hitting my bed.
I was so glad
when my husband and daughter and later my son came to visit. Nobody
could tell me how long I would have to stay in the hospital. I worked
hard with the health professionals to be released before Christmas,
especially when most nurses suddenly started wearing two masks. Two
days before Christmas Eve, I could indeed leave the hospital with a
private transport organization due to the need to transport me on a
stretcher and up the stairs to our house.
I find it
very amusing that you use the same word in English to describe
someone who has patience and for the person receiving medical
treatment. What helps you to stay patient when things don't go as
expected?
