GUILT TRIPPING

Statues in The Vigeland Park

"Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do." - Voltaire.
                                                                
I am on a guilt trip, totally laid on myself by myself. I have spent a lifetime convincing myself - and others - that guilt is a useless, destructive and wasted emotion, and when it manifests itself it's usually just in your own mind anyway. 

Well - instead of the word "guilt," which is loaded with everything from serious crime to white lies, I'll use the word "conscience." My conscience is burdened. It's heavy with the good I did not do. Though I'm told by those around me not to think this way. But I've gone many a round with my conscience to try to discover in hindsight ways in which I could have acted differently in the months - even years! - preceding my husband's cancer diagnosis, what signs I should have noticed, how I should have insisted more strongly on doctors' check-ups other than those for his usual hip and back pains, and most of all - how I reacted to what I can see now were forewarnings and premonitions.

The Vigeland Park

His extreme tiredness, abnormally long afternoon naps, low appetite (though not always), lack of energy, complaints of such. Falling asleep almost every evening, in the middle of conversation with me, leaving a frustrated, angry and desolate wife sitting alone in the living room. I felt my favourite dialogue partner, my husband, my soulmate, my best friend slipping away from me, and I couldn't understand it. 

This is what I tell myself now, to try to soothe my conscience - how could I have known? Suddenly his condition deteriorated only days before he was diagnosed and quickly moved over into a different state - with obvious physical signs, like his whole left side becoming distorted and crooked. Then I acted. But still I thought they were signs of a stroke, not the tumour pushing his brain sideways so that everything on his left side started malfunctioning - mouth, speech, sight, hand, foot. My heart breaks when I recall those days.

But I have to remind myself - to lighten my heavy conscience - there were only very few of those days. The earlier signs were difficult to interpret. Still I keep beating myself up over having been so exasperated and impatient with him.

Carrot cake made by friend and neighbour Turi at the weekend and brought over as a treat

Apple pie with whipped cream, made by me

I really haven't done much cake baking since my daughters were children. I probably had enough of it! Always some event that required a cake or something in that genre. Birthday parties, parents/teachers meetings, school parties, end-of-term gatherings, sports centre duties…. you name it. I was not the type of mum to purchase brownies from the supermarket and roughen them up to make them appear home baked! But now I try to throw together the ingredients for a cake every weekend, in order to feed those calories into my undernourished husband. Compensating for the guilty conscience perhaps?

So far the apple pie is his favourite, but then it has always been.

There is one thing I definitely don't feel guilty about - swimming! Unfortunately I have not been able to swim as often as I like this winter, for obvious reasons, and also because I've been having recurring ear infections. My immune system might have been a bit weaker than usual, at least that's what the doctor told me when I asked for my second antibiotics treatment just before Christmas. But I'm back to being a water baby now!

Another characteristic of mine that I've stopped feeling guilty about is staying up all night. I've always liked evening and nighttime, ever since I was a child, and I remember meeting, totally connecting and partying with a girl (hmmm…. a woman my own age actually) in Zürich some years ago who was just like me. She worked in the hotel I was staying at and I admit to stealing her motto: "I'm the evening girl." (Meaning she always worked evenings, but I thought it was appropriate)! The above photo was taken by me at four - or was it five - a.m. last Friday (Saturday)? Sunrise! Yes, this is when I see it, going to bed, never when getting up….. I've reconciled myself with my bedtime fear.

School photo from 1962 - all girls' class - I was seven years old. Which one am I?

ENRICHMENT

This is Radiumhospitalet - the Norwegian National Hospital for Radiotherapy and Cancer Treatment. This week we've visited on two occasions, and both times I've walked out with a feeling I can best describe as RELIEF. Not happiness, no - but yes, relief mixed with a small hope that at least some things are going to take a turn for the better now. Always pleased when I learn something new! For me all knowledge is an enrichment, and what I've been taught these days is also incredibly useful!

Talking about enrichment - "enriching food" is not a term I'm used to, and not something I've ever done purposely. But I'm doing it now! The dietitian at the hospital's patients' centre - Vardesenteret - yes, we finally met with her - told us what to mix in my husband's food to make him put on weight. Protein powder to mix in soups and purées, carbohydrate powder to mix in sweeter food and drinks, oil-based shots to take three times a day. All this stuff is packed with calories and will both add weight to his thin body and hopefully increase his appetite as well.

I'm over the moon about this "break-through," but at the same time I'm upset because I can't help feeling that this should have been done a long time ago. My already burdened conscience shouldn't have to deal with these emotions - I should have been told that these food enrichment possibilities were available the minute my husband started his rapid weight loss. The doctors only told him to eat more! But when he wasn't able to get food down this should have been the option straight away! The dietitian explained to him that if he didn't start with the weight increase now, the next step would be hospitalisation with intravenous feeding. I think this motivated him because he's already accepting all my "enriched" food AND seems to be knocking it back! (Well, "knocking back" might be an exaggeration, but maybe "tentatively swallowing?")

Our second visit to the radiotherapy hospital took place this afternoon - to receive the results from my husband's first brain scan since his six-week long treatments in November and December. I was dreading this. Three possible answers: 1) Yes, the treatments have worked and the tumour remains have stayed quiet, 2) No, the treatments have not worked and the tumour has begun to grow again, 3) The operated area in the brain is still so swollen that it's difficult to interpret the condition from the scan picture. Answer number 1 it was! Huge relief!

The Monolith, in my park

Sky on fire

We have finally seen a touch of spring here in Oslo, and I will do anything to cheer it on, including wearing colourful accessories. But spring is known to be capricious and whimsical and basically lives it own life. Sun was replaced by snow this morning! It was more or less gone by this afternoon, but will appear again tomorrow morning as lethal road ice, according to the forecasters. 

My husband's treatments seem to have bought us some time, at least temporarily. I think we're on the verge of making a change here, of turning our despondency around. My heart is set on making the most out of the time left to him - and us, with him.

BONJOUR TRISTESSE

 

We're on a heavy journey these days, that's for sure. My husband is depressed. Some days are heavier than others, and I've experienced occasions this past week when I've felt a mixture of deep sadness, melancholy and even despair. But as long as I don't sink into depression too - that would be insufferable. I had a session with my therapist last week, and we talked about depression. Insomnia can often be a sign of depression, but she said that if you reach out for your bedside lamp switch in order to read for a bit when you can't sleep, then you're not depressed. A pretty good picture, I think.

"You're not depressed," she said to me, "but you're feeling sad." Very minor things can trigger my emotions now - a song, an old photograph, a piece of literature, a compassionate email, a sentence someone says - just asking me how I am doing, for instance. This is vulnerability for you - on a high level.

With the greyness both inside and outside me last week, I decided we need to turn things around. My husband's focus will have to change, though I know it won't be easy. I'm going to spend my time now on lifting him up, making his days - and thus OUR days - positive and happy. Or, at least I'll try.

Towards the end of last week I managed to see some light in the dark tunnel. Literally! There was the faintest notion of a sunset on Friday evening - more or less the first since Christmas - and in addition I discovered the first green leaves on a nearby hedge!

My therapist told me about something called Vardesenteret, which is a place where cancer patients and their relatives can go for dialogue and group conversations, there is nutrition guidance, exercise classes - you name it. (I must say though, that I find it strange that there's been no mention of this centre from anyone during my husband's illness and subsequent treatments. I remember now seeing a sign for it at the hospital, but I didn't think of asking anyone at the time. There was so much else to concentrate on)!

So - our first appointment there is tomorrow, with a nutrition expert. My husband eats hardly anything, and perhaps the expert will know some tricks and techniques or methods to get him to enjoy food a bit again. I think his lack of appetite might also have psychological reasons, and anyway it's always valuable to receive advice from someone who's not a nagging wife or a worried daughter.

Tomorrow we'll also be able to have a look around the centre, to talk to some of the volunteers who work there, and to check out all the activities they provide.

I think I've taken a small step forward.

The dreary weather coupled with my own despondency has meant that I've dressed in dark clothes and the same old wellies or boots every day - what's the point in dressing cheerfully when you hardly dare venture out in continuous rain and slush? But on Friday I dressed in red shoes and a red scarf because I KNEW it would help the sunny weather along! And the following day the sun did come out and has stayed out since!

And with the hope of my granddaughter Jelena getting her leg cast removed tomorrow there's room for optimism. And maybe a trip to France beckoning in the not too distant future. We haven't been there since the beginning of September.

But I think I also need to make room for tristesse. It is very much a part of my life these days.

GUARDIAN ANGELS

Lending my umbrella to a freezing neighbourhood girl at 2.15 am

Oh yes, I've had a good week.

Having got a couple of frustrations off my chest in my previous blogpost I've realised that my world is full of beautiful caring people and I'm lucky enough to experience their kindness every single day.

Best friend Grete introduced me at last to lovely Lisa from Italy - her daughter-in-law - and we ended up sitting in a café for hours a week ago, chatting, knitting, drinking hot drinks - until we were told to leave. Ooops! We were oblivious to the fact that they'd started placing the chairs on top of the tables and had actually started cleaning the café.

I keep needing to see beauty around me - even more so now that the sun is still totally absent from its spot in the sky. It almost feels like it's disappeared for good, and it creates a very dismal and spooky atmosphere. A bit like a nuclear winter where I imagine everything draped in eerie shades of grey and life is subdued and all sounds are wrapped in cotton wool. The weather forecasters tell me I'm more or less right about the sun, apparently it's been out only two and a half days since Christmas, and for a very short period of time.

What better then in this dreariness than to visit a friend's art exhibition! She's Lise (with an "e") and she's the daughter of close friends Turi and Christian. Her paintings are absolutely breathtaking, and I wish I could wallpaper my house with them! (But I'd have to get rid of my old ones first….)

I visited again today with Grete, and afterwards we strolled around the grounds of the old farm/manor where the exhibition rooms were - Bogstad Gård. Again and again I'm amazed at the numerous fantastic sights and spots of my city - places I've taken for granted because they've surrounded me all my life, but that I now - probably with age - appreciate more and more and seem to be perceiving through "new" eyes.

(When I use that positively loaded and sweet sounding word "strolled" above - hmmm…. well, I need to modify it: Slid, stumbled, froze was more like it - through the sleet that hit us sideways. I nearly fell into the icy lake because Grete wanted to photograph me on the dangerous slippery stones, and you don't say no to her. Then my "Scream" umbrella decided to live its own life and headed towards the lake like a Mary Poppins prop, with me sliding and chasing it down muddy rotten grass banks, waving my arms to find my balance. You should have photographed this, Grete)!

Well, how can I say no to the photographer when she catches me like this? Three years ago, but still….

Twice this week I've been invited to dinner - oh, how I appreciate it! Once to my friend and neighbour Turi's house - yes,  the artist's Mum, and while thinking she would keep it simple (well, she never does - I should have known), she dishes out a fabulous Thai style chicken stuffed with Brie and thyme and tied up with ham, sprinkled with fresh coriander.

On Friday I was invited to my friend Anne-Helene's house on a girls' night - always fun, always lots of laughs, always inspiring. The usual gear this season when venturing out is wellies, raincoat and umbrella, and dressed this way and walking home at about 2 in the morning I even managed to see the beauty in the wet tarmac of my deserted neighbourhood. 

Never have there been as many potholes as this winter

Another lonely night wanderer spotted

And two not so close people - but who are definitely present in my life - have made my day twice this week. A colleague from the days of yore (well, maybe he was a bit more than a colleague…. ) sent me an email that touched me deeply. A friend of my sister's contacted us and asked if we wanted venison minced meat from western Norway, thinking it would tempt my undernourished husband. Of course he said YES!

Thank you - all my guardian angels. You're wonderfully caring and I simply love you all.

Why do I keep wanting to give statues shelter from the rain? Maybe I want to be a guardian angel too….

"Fastelavn" - the Sunday evening before the fasting days begin - 40 days according to religious tradition. Not likely in this house! But the creamy buns are still compulsory on this Sunday before Lent