b.9

(began August 21st, 2009)

Martin is very sick. I want to scream. I want to take his pain away. I want him to be better. I want to go home. I want to have faith in the doctor’s here in Bruxelles, that they know what they are doing. My heart hurts. I just want him to get better. I am thankful for family right now. Aunt Nancy and Matt have been very helpful in trying to offer suggestions and doing some research in what we can do, what’d be best for him, cost wise, safety, etc.

I feel like I’m in a nightmare and I want nothing more than to get out. Right now!

Martin had claimed he was having some stomach pain. I remember him saying that he was having an “icky, kind of raw” stomach our last night in Paris. We admitted him into the ER after he was bed ridden for two days. He was moaning in agony at the slight touch to his stomach area, having great difficulty at the simple task of standing, pale in the face, eyes heavy…they took his temperature, another indicator of his current status being very low, he had a fever--39 degrees. After conversing with each other the doctors decided to start an IV to cure his dehydration and they ran tests. So many tests. Blood tests. Urine Test.

After about an hour or two passing, which I may say was not pleasant for either one of us, Martin especially, we got the results. He had a severe infection, due to his skyrocketed count of white blood cells. They were not able to, unfortunately, find out where the infection resided until the next morning when the radiologist was in. That meant an overnight in the ER. The nurse, who we were both so thankful for that evening, kept him on the IV, gave him something to break the fever--attempting to make him as comfortable as possible within the next six or seven hours. After waiting for those dreadful hours to pass what seemed an eternity it was time for more tests. They took him to get an ultrasound and returned him back to his room. I felt so vulnerable. I just wanted to help Martin. All he wanted was to start feeling better. But to the different various floors we were sent to wait to do more tests. They were not able to see anything clearly so they took him back up get an X-Ray. Within about three hours they were able to tell us that there was a “blockage” due to severe inflammation within his intestines. Judging by his X-Ray and symptoms, they gave a juvenile diagnosis of “Crohn’s Disease,” or inflamed bowel disease, as they were only 80% certain upon this diagnosis. They would not be able to be certain that he had this disease until he has a colonoscopy.

They put a tube down this throat via his right nostril in order to give his digestive system a break and collect any bile that would be produced. I can not explain how heartbreaking it was to see my brother in this condition. I felt as if I was seeing my Dad when he was sick, flashing before my eyes in slow motion. It was immediately at that point a wall broke between my brother and me. It is difficult to explain, as my brother and I have always been so incredibly close ever since our parents got a divorce. “Just a glimpse,” the thought of losing him, had been thrown into my visions and all we could do was hold each other’s hand, gripping so tightly with the occasional three pulses to remind one another, I love you. Tears began streaming down my face. How was I supposed to be the strong rock for my brother if I was falling apart right before him?

They told us he would have to be hospitalized for one week, definitely, perhaps even two. We were so stubborn to surrender. It was at this point, however, that we knew we had no choice but to realize it is what it is...this is happening, there is nothing we can do, it is in their hands, we must have faith... A majority of our comfort was inhibited by the help of close friends here in Brux--they were angels sent to our rescue. It was relieving to know someone in the area, as well as reassurance in hearing how advanced the medical care was at the hospital. Not to mention the simple fact that the care he has been receiving would be pennies compared to the never-ending bill had he been having this all done in the states. We were lucky in more ways than one, a blessing in disguise had began revealed before our eyes.

It was through the act of surrendering, admitting to ourselves that we can not always have control of life, that ultimately opened our eyes. We may have the capability to steer our lives in a direction, and it is up to us to write a path that sings true to our hearts...However, it is crucial to know the mere importance in always having control of every little thing. It is a task, unfortunately, many know far too well, and it can be so very detrimental to oneself... All we can control is ourselves, and all we can do is have faith that everything will work out. It always does. All things, beautiful and horrible, will eventually pass. It is only when we are patient and surrender the need to control that we are truly able to experience the beauty in life.

Through time, excellent care, antibiotics, and most of all patience and faith...Martin has been getting better day by day. He was able to have his tube removed--the same one that was attempted to be put in three times---and thus able to finally drink liquids by mouth! A sensation he wasn't able to experience for a week. Sweet, glorious water. He has also recently been given the pleasure of eating whole foods, although I think it will be some getting used to as he hadn't had anything run through and digested in his system for over a week... the body still amazes me.

This experience...this eye-opening, soul shaking, life altering experience...has been a blessing for me and Martin. We both came to Europe, ready to put our guards down and open our hearts to the possibility of having this mind-blowing experience...an attempt at truly knowing ourselves and understanding what our calling in life was. In the beginning of our trip, it was all that we could talk about. "What's traveling all about? Why come to Europe? Why am I here? There's nothing special about this place. I want to be excited about it. I want something BIG to happen. I want to find myself. I want to know...." Our wish became a reality. We discovered the beauty of life.

When life seems to flash before your eyes you are immediately reminded what is most important to you, and just how fragile, how delicate, our life is. It is not a given right, it is a gift, one not to be taken for granted. We have had so many beautiful conversations, deep and moving, ending in tears of sadness, joy, but most of all, realization. Life is short. Far too short to not do what is most important to you. We found a love.

Not an exterior love that is materialistic and existing for the mere attempt of just to exist. A love, so deep, within ourselves. Something that is only found in what may appear at your weakest state, but is truly you at your strongest...the most pure. The most important thing we can do, as humans, is to love. Love ourselves, truly, and honor and respect our hearts. Not only because they are what sends a life flow through our bodies, but because it knows what is best. It is the light that illuminates within us all, if we allow it.

Life is about the relationships we hold, with ourselves, with family, with friends, with lovers...it is not something to fear, but to be willing to share. I have never seen anything so beautiful, than the shining light that bounces back and forth, off one another, between two beings. It is by far,unfortunately, the most feared feeling by individuals, and simutaneously the most rewarding feeling when you welcome it into your life.

If I could only be granted one wish, it would be for everyone to experience this kind of love... To not fear it, but to be open to it. Life is too short to fear what does not hurt us, for in all actuality love feeds us strength and beauty. Slow down. Appreciate the special people who surround you. There is nothing more terrifying than the thought of never having another chance at voicing and displaying the love you hold for someone. There is nothing more rewarding than truly breaking down the barriers, unlocking doors you never knew were closed, and truly sharing a love between another being...another soul to share fears, insecurities, dreams, laughter, tears with... And also remembering the importance of sharing that love with yourself, for if you do not guard that shining light it may burn out.

In the wise and beautiful words of my brother, "Do not fear weakness, fear strength. It is only when we are in our weakest state that our true strength is shown."

It is when we allow the floodgates down, the water to come rushing in...that is when our true beauty is luminescent to the world, and oh what a beautiful site it is to see...