Sunday, 8 May 2016

What next?

'Imagine that you are not affected by flattery
or criticism.  Imagine that in your presence
all hostility is overcome by profound peace.

Wednesday, 4 May 2016


“Eventually soulmates meet, for they have the same hiding place.”
― Robert Brault
So love this quote. So believe there are many ways of sharing love.

Yesterday was unexpectedly different. I met two beautiful soul mates in unusual circumstances. Their love ( care for me ) is what transformed everything that was painful in the hospital.

At 13.30, the local doctors face wrinkled as he felt my left the leg, the leg that hadn’t wanted to wake up after the operation. 'Urgencias.' (A&E) he said.  'Right now.  Ambulance ?'

DVT were the unspoken words .

No, I will drive her said my friend. She is the kind of friend who never fails to astonish in ways of kindness, generosity, problem solving, and joie de vivre. C lives every minute of her precious life, post c, with verve. We quickly buy bread, cheese, cherry tomatoes, and water from a tiny shop for the half hour journey to Motril. It’s 2pm. We’re both hungry.

The leg is very swollen and hot. Tests are quickly arranged, blood is taken 3 times and hours of waiting follow. Finally my friend has found a bed ( trolley) for me to lie on… I am full of morphine but the pain is not wanting to leave.

C. has to go, so arranges for a new friend, an Norwegian 'ex' minister to come and sit with me. Past talking, I just admire this persons kindness to drop everything to accompany me on this unknown journey. She’s  younger than me, and seems to have swapped her job in a church for  the same job without walls or borders.

‘AFRICA, AFRICA,’ shouts a demented old man on the trolley parked beside mine.
About 4 women in the waiting room in unison, in Spanish, tell him she’s coming.  How beautiful is the gift of compassion in action. Denis continues to yell for his wife. The women become silent.  My new Norwegian friends goes to him and explains Africa’s gone to the toilet !! Close your eyes darling she says, she’ll be here soon.

Finally a thin tall middle aged un-smiling porter arrives and tells me I’m going to have Xrays and an Ultrasound. We start a long descent to the depths of the hospital, getting lost a few times. It’s a public holiday, nobody’s here. I hope they are not going to find another tumour I say out loud. This piece of info opens a door of connection between us. Most unexpectedly, his eyes and following small actions tell me he has just become a dear companion who will accompany me wherever we have to go next.

'Todo bien ? ' (everything ok) I ask the radiologist. 
Yes she says, no sign of DVD. 

The blood tests would have shown other things, surely, I say to myself.

We make the journey back up to the accident and emergency department using many lifts, waking miles of empty corridors with a beautiful lightness of being, the unshaved tired hospital porter looking forward to clocking off, me the artist happy not to have DVT !!

Then, the young handsome chubby Moroccan doctor and I meet across his table.
 'Todo bien.' he says. 'Just keep an eye of the leg.'

Something happens and he suddenly transforms into a dear son who is tired at the end of a hard day. We’ve shared a journey of 6 hours. I have many unanswered questions, but I leave with a beautiful and unexpected feeling of ‘healing’ on the inside.

So grateful for the special care of my two friends , and the wonderful welcome ‘home’ at Las Chimeneas.