A Dark Day prt5



While Annemieke was prepared and calmed down for the surgery, I took care of the inevitable administrative affairs and payments. My mind wasn’t in the right setting for this; so I switched to ‘first things first and everything step by step’-mode. With a mixture of French, German, English and Dutch I survived pretty well. After a while I accompanied Annemieke to the doors of the operation room, and there she went. I ended up in the waiting room of the ‘NOTAUFNAHME’ of the hospital of Sankt Vith. The radio played that feelingless, computerbased nowadays music that I’m too old for… ‘Look into my eyes and I’ll own you with them moves like Jagger, I’ve got the moves like Jagger, I’ve got the moves like Jagger’.., that kind of stuff. People came, waited and went. A man managed to get hold of the remote control of the TV that was hanging above us and he succeeded in getting the world cup soccer match on the screen. Belgium was playing. A short attempt to get the aspect ratio right failed, so there I was, looking at small, too fat soccer players, running behind an oval ball, while the reporter was speaking French and the radio was still playing it’s empty tunes. And I had ‘Wasserbüffel’, blood, ambulance-sirens, infusions, morphine, and Annemieke switching through my consciousness. At 17:00 the reception desk closed; and at 19:00 I picked up the desk-phone to ask how things were going in the operation room. They had forgotten me a little bit, but they were almost finished and I could enter the hospital through the main entrance, and go to the 2nd floor, where I found my 2nd waiting room…

The Waiting

The Waiting

More Waiting

More Waiting

  1. Harrie, this is a very feeling and human account of a harrowing experience. Nothing to do with bike crashes, but I’ve been in similar situations – I’ve been “forgotten” too! Adrian 🙂

    • Thanks for your sympathy and understanding, Adrian. And I thought that it was way better that they focused their attention on my wife than on me.. 🙂

  2. nannus said:

    Bad luck. I am wishing her all the best! Hitting the like button here does not really mean like. I hope it is going to heal well.

    • Thanks you, Nannus. It will take quite some time and a lot of practice.

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