![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Quiet but relaxing holiday
Oct. 8th, 2008 10:12 amZe Boyz let me sleep until 9.30 today, which has to be a record. I'm feeling very, very rested; after a long bout of bad weather with lots of rain, autumn seems to have come. A bit colder than usual here for this time of year, but splendid and blue-golden. The kind of autumn that reminds me why this is my favourite time of the year.
The virus now belongs definitely to the past. On Monday Janine and I limited ourselves to such virtuous things as tea and boiled rice, interspersed with the occasional cup of instant broth, but yesterday we were both back to normal. Since Janine is a complete night owl, she slept till noon yesterday, then we went to a shopping mall and managed not to spend too much money (entirely my merit, because I dragged her away from Zara Home and its lovely selection of textiles for bed-, bath- and dinng room), then had coffee at a place where sitting outside was possible because the terrace is sheltered from the wind, and then we went to visit Gabriele.
She's still not very well, which is (in my opinion) due in equal parts to 1) her cat Mal'chik's leg having been operated on Saturday for the third and hopefully last time, 2) her own complete frustration with all things work-related, 3) the after-effects of her own breast surgery. I think it's rather unusual to let one's patient travel back to Turkey with the stitches still in and the wound leaking. 3 weeks after the operation the stitches are still in and the wound is leaking pus, but Gabriele refuses to see a doctor. She's an adult, so there's nothing I can do. I hope that Janine's admonitions- they might carry more authority, because Janine's had 3 breast operations and knows what she's talking about - will be more successful.
It's a very sad and utterly frustrating thing having to watch a friend (i.e. Gabriele) sink into what I think is rather serious depression. I mean, I know that the aftereffects of anaesthesia can linger for quite a long time, but Gabriele's sluggishness and tiredness doesn't seem to be caused exclusively by that. She's physically healthy, and it's been 3 weeks. My 80-year-old mother recovers in less time. No, I'm sure it's the psyche that's suffering, and I have no idea how to help. Anyway, she'll return to work on the 20th, and if she does indeed start working that day, being with other people might have a positive effect. Spending days and days on one's own, even if one is the kind of person who needs lots of me-time, can't really be good.
I don't know about you f-listers, but I can never quite help feeling ashamed and vaguely guilty, when other people (especially friends) are so miserable. I keep telling myself that, were I not the kind of person I am, I'd probably be miserable with my own lot. I'm just a fundamentally positive, happy person who's sometimes feeling bad but never falls prey to all-over misery. But I'm also a fundamentally lucky person: my family, friends and cats are healthy, I'm healthy, I'm not the one who picked a flat which is badly heated during winter, etc. etc. It all seems rather unjust, especially since I'd be able to cope with life's shortcomings much better than e.g. Gabriele. I'm also very grateful for being as I am, don't get me wrong. It just looks a bit unfair from time to time.
On a much lighter note, I don't think I've mentioned what Janine gave me for my birthday. She sent the present via diplomatic mail, since it was a bit heavy for transporting in her suitcase, and I dutifully lugged it home without opening it. (Yes, it was *very* heavy) She made me an abso-effing-lutely gorgeous , crocheted blanket, burgundy-coloured and 2,20x2,20 m big. It's the kind of thing you see in those posh interior decorating shops but don't even check the price because you know it costs about 2000 Euros. I was speechless when I unwrapped it and asked where she'd bought it. Speechlessness reached an all-time high when she told me she'd made it herself. I'll have to take and post a picture of it.
The virus now belongs definitely to the past. On Monday Janine and I limited ourselves to such virtuous things as tea and boiled rice, interspersed with the occasional cup of instant broth, but yesterday we were both back to normal. Since Janine is a complete night owl, she slept till noon yesterday, then we went to a shopping mall and managed not to spend too much money (entirely my merit, because I dragged her away from Zara Home and its lovely selection of textiles for bed-, bath- and dinng room), then had coffee at a place where sitting outside was possible because the terrace is sheltered from the wind, and then we went to visit Gabriele.
She's still not very well, which is (in my opinion) due in equal parts to 1) her cat Mal'chik's leg having been operated on Saturday for the third and hopefully last time, 2) her own complete frustration with all things work-related, 3) the after-effects of her own breast surgery. I think it's rather unusual to let one's patient travel back to Turkey with the stitches still in and the wound leaking. 3 weeks after the operation the stitches are still in and the wound is leaking pus, but Gabriele refuses to see a doctor. She's an adult, so there's nothing I can do. I hope that Janine's admonitions- they might carry more authority, because Janine's had 3 breast operations and knows what she's talking about - will be more successful.
It's a very sad and utterly frustrating thing having to watch a friend (i.e. Gabriele) sink into what I think is rather serious depression. I mean, I know that the aftereffects of anaesthesia can linger for quite a long time, but Gabriele's sluggishness and tiredness doesn't seem to be caused exclusively by that. She's physically healthy, and it's been 3 weeks. My 80-year-old mother recovers in less time. No, I'm sure it's the psyche that's suffering, and I have no idea how to help. Anyway, she'll return to work on the 20th, and if she does indeed start working that day, being with other people might have a positive effect. Spending days and days on one's own, even if one is the kind of person who needs lots of me-time, can't really be good.
I don't know about you f-listers, but I can never quite help feeling ashamed and vaguely guilty, when other people (especially friends) are so miserable. I keep telling myself that, were I not the kind of person I am, I'd probably be miserable with my own lot. I'm just a fundamentally positive, happy person who's sometimes feeling bad but never falls prey to all-over misery. But I'm also a fundamentally lucky person: my family, friends and cats are healthy, I'm healthy, I'm not the one who picked a flat which is badly heated during winter, etc. etc. It all seems rather unjust, especially since I'd be able to cope with life's shortcomings much better than e.g. Gabriele. I'm also very grateful for being as I am, don't get me wrong. It just looks a bit unfair from time to time.
On a much lighter note, I don't think I've mentioned what Janine gave me for my birthday. She sent the present via diplomatic mail, since it was a bit heavy for transporting in her suitcase, and I dutifully lugged it home without opening it. (Yes, it was *very* heavy) She made me an abso-effing-lutely gorgeous , crocheted blanket, burgundy-coloured and 2,20x2,20 m big. It's the kind of thing you see in those posh interior decorating shops but don't even check the price because you know it costs about 2000 Euros. I was speechless when I unwrapped it and asked where she'd bought it. Speechlessness reached an all-time high when she told me she'd made it herself. I'll have to take and post a picture of it.
