Hi all… Please just be careful whilst reading this. I talk about the cyst again and a couple of other things that might be difficult to read. Stay safe.
So, Sunday came round and we did manage to fly out. Getting through the airport without assistance was hell. I actually asked when we were on the plane if I could have assistance at the other end, and luckily I was given some- I was wheelchaired right into the Dutchman’s arms. I was so thrilled to see him: we all were. It was such a relief to be able to hold him close and kiss him again. We always miss how kind he is, and we crave the physical closeness he gives. It makes us happy to be able to reach out, grab his hand and kiss it, pull it close to our cheek and feel his fingers on our skin. We love that he is so patient, so kind.
He wheelchaired us all the way to the CARDIS (yes, that is what we have decided to call his car! He could fit a swimming pool and a library in the boot!) and drove us home. I kept looking at him, smiling. We knew that even though our journey had been very difficult, we had him now. What could go wrong?
Going back to his house, it was great to see his parents again and the cats (he has two adorable fluffballs, snuggly and also full of character). It was amazing to climb into bed next to him, to sleep wrapped in his arms. This is what we are all working towards- all four of us want to end our day asleep next to him every day.
The next morning (Monday), sadly, we woke up in a lot of pain and discomfort. Turns out that if you will a cyst to go away by just doing stuff you could do before you had it, it screams bloody murder at you the next day. Mostly,. the day was spend lazing around in bed, cuddled up next to the Dutchman, or in the comfortable chair next to the computer where we both played XCOM. Damn, that game is fun. It helped that both of his parents are completely happy to let us just chill together, and they enjoy my presence in the house. We all like being there- it’s such a calm, restful environment.
Tuesday was a little better. We started to be able to walk with a cane. The pain was still there, but the Dutchman helped us to walk and we managed to overcome the pain for long enough to go and visit his auntie. She’s not well at all, and is thinking of leaving her house and going to live in a care home. She would like the Dutchman to inherit the house, and all of us liked meeting her. Her and her husband were huge fans of animals, have been all their lives, and they used to work for an animal rescue centre. They own a Bosnian dog, who has obviously seen horrors that no person or animal should ever see- she flinches when you make a movement. It doesn’t have to be sudden. Slowly, however, she began to trust us more and more, and eventually wanted the Dutchman and I to take her for a walk as we were leaving. The Dutchman’s Auntie wanted him to have the house because two cats live next door, and she is convinced that he will look after them when their owners can’t (or won’t, they apparently sleep in a box filled with hay in the garage. If you don’t want to have a pet in the house, don’t buy one!). I also think she wants him to have the house because of the kind person he is, and because of the rough time he has had finding employment in the field of work he studied in.
Wednesday morning wasn’t too bad again, but showering and brushing teeth and washing our face was, and is, such an effort. The Dutchman helped us by supporting us in the shower. This is something we are not used to, seeing as we all are scared of the shower in varying degrees. Me, nineteen, I hate being touched by anyone but me in the shower. Twenty-six doesn’t like soap in her eyes and ears and being unable to defend herself. Fifteen isn’t comfortable with nudity, and Fourteen still feels a little strange when getting in the shower with a guy- she feels like she will be told off at any moment, although she wants to be in the shower. However, the showers we all had with the Dutchman have taught us something: this can be a nice process and it doesn’t have to be frightening. He lets us do what we need to do (like washing our hair, which we hate anyone but US doing) and helped us stand up when we felt weak.
We started to realise that actually, what he’s done for us all week has become our carer. We were horrified. We are trapped like this for no discernible reason, with palpitations and erratic heartbeat and nausea and anxiety and crippling pain, and he is shouldering the brunt of caring for us. We all realised that and were horrified.
Going to the house of a friend of his for dinner was a lovely change, and meeting her husband and three gorgeous kids was fantastic. I am still surprised we all managed to stay awake as long as we did. We loved the meal, although we were in pain, and it was so good to meet his friend- the Dutchman has talked a lot about her.
Thursday, and time for my parents and sister to come over. Again, we had to use a wheelchair, and the Dutchman pushed us all the way through the airport. Picking up my parents, we realised we were too tired and weak to get out of the chair. We all had food together, where the four of us ate a sandwich that would normally have been no problem for us, but right now it filled us up too much. The Dutchman made my parents, sister and I laugh, and there was light-hearted chat despite the wheelchair at the table. Having them meet the Dutchman’s parents was brilliant. Sis, the Dutchman and I went to the local supermarket, complete with cane, although I had to rest on quite a few occasions. We all had an absolutely brilliant time and a great laugh. We all agree, the four of us, that Sis and the Dutchman couldn’t be better suited as brother and sister-in-law (eventually!).
Friday resulted in more exhaustedness, because we had walked the day before. It was good, however, to be with our two families as they made friends and got to know each other. The sun had begun to shine pretty forcefully, and we had an outing to the local shop. The wheelchair came in super useful again, and I eventually became the trolley- we forgot to get bags, so we used me instead! Spending time out in the wheelchair slowly became more bearable, even more fun, and we explored Leerdam in the chair with the Dutchman pushing us around. Sis came too. We stopped off for a small pastry in one of the local bakeries, which was pretty awesome. The sun was warm, and there was a slight breeze. It got so pleasant outside that we ended up being able to sit out after dinner.
Saturday dawned and I struggled to get up. We all took turns that morning in ‘fronting’, which is our term for taking charge of our body. The Dutchman helped us change and brought us our meds, as usual, and we ended up being ready for our outing to a town on the German border. The reason? A friend of mine that both 19 and I have known lives in Germany now, with his partner (who is German, that should explain a few things!). The city we went to was the closest to everyone involved. We had the best day out, sitting in the chair, although it got incredibly hot! It was nice having all the family out too, there to enjoy the sun and meet our friend and his partner. The Dutchman has met them before and gets on like a house on fire with them, and we all have a lot of fun together. It was so lovely to be with them again, we didn’t realise how exhausted we were until we got back home again. We actually went out to eat that evening too and suffered serious pain from the cyst- reaching up to get plates absolutely floored us. Tea was delicious though, and the Dutchman kept wheeling us wherever we wanted to go in our wheelchair.
Sunday was a day of sheer exhaustion. We looked at the amount of medicine we had taken all week and were shocked to realise we were running out of some of it already. The Dutchman never stopped being kind and thoughtful, helping us with anything we needed. It doesn’t matter, he never tires. We had some laid-back fun, enjoying ourselves with our families and having a good laugh. In the evening, my parents, sister and I all piled into the Dutchman’s car and we went to see his brother and his partner, and their new little girl. She was born at the tail end of April, my birthday month, so we are already April girlies together… not only that, we will LEGALLY be her auntie when we are married to the Dutchman next year. She was gorgeous, so tiny and perfect, those little fingers grasping for mine already as she lay in her crib. Her mother is the perfect mother- she is so well-prepared for her, so perfectly able to respond and she knows instantly what cry means what. I’ve never met anyone else who gets tiny babies like we do, but she certainly does. In some ways, tiny babies are infuriating and occasionally impossible to figure out, but we have always found them easy… well, easier than two-year-olds! We were all enchanted, family included. The Dutchman was the picture of the proud uncle. It made us melt.
Monday came, and so did horrendous palpitations. They were so bad, we spent most of the morning almost passing out, with the Dutchman snuggled up to us on the sofa, helping us be distracted by XCOM. We rang the airline I flew with and discovered that we needed to go and get to the airport earlier to ask for assistance, which we did after the Dutchman had packed our case up for us. He was amazing- he managed to fit in our new purchases, and also the wool that Sis had bought for knitting with! There was a LOT of it. The airport had, when we arrived, already been notified that I would need assistance, and what then followed was a very pleasant afternoon spent wandering (or wheeling) round a couple of the airport shops, sitting waiting for my parents and sister’s flight in a cafe, then the Dutchman and I waiting for ours together. We did not want to say goodbye to him. We had, despite things, had a brilliant week together.
He kept reminding us that we were not a burden. Supporting us in the shower, we were strangely unafraid. We only needed to ask him for something and he would run and get it for us. He carried us to the wheelchair when it arrived. He is everything I thought didn’t really exist in the real world, but we are all finding out that the younger two’s hopes for a true gentleman are, in fact, completely justified.