Got up at dawn and went for a road trip. When it should have been the train. I still can’t get used to the commute to Limerick in a car. It feels wrong. And I’m wondering, whether the conductor has been away to southern Spain for his annual golf outing with his pals; whether the rather big barrister in his dark grey with black stripes suit is still going to criminal trials to Limerick; whether one of my oldest friends with the red hair is still going up and down every day of the week for his job? I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye to them. Do they miss me? Are they wondering, whatever happened to this man with the rucksack and black flask of hot coffee? Does the clerk in Irish Rail keep that annual ticket for me, the one I’ve bought more than a dozen years and that, surely, must have been ready waiting for me on his desk?

Today was about more than just missing the train. When I was in Limerick, thinking about going home, when I was thinking of home, I was thinking of going home to Dublin, to Pat and the kids. When I finally did got back tonight, the house was empty. There was no one there.

Two news items from Hamburg tonight – both absolute and complete ‘firsts’.

Pádraig must have been hungry. We have organised a few jars (190ml) of pureed food as an alternative to the sometimes not so suitable hospital food and today – for the first time ever – he finished an entire jar, and what is better: without any problems at all, just one small spoon after another!

And then came the call: tomorrow, Pádraig is going to move up one floor to 2L, a ward just and exclusively for rehab, no more acute care, no more monitors (we believe). Finally. And to tell you the truth, it all adds to my confusion: imagine, it’s now nine months ago that Pádraig went to Hamburg to receive rehab. On arrival, he was to spend a few days in ICU / Intermediate Care in order to recover from the trip over. He had to go back on a respirator, his lung collapsed, he had three operations, followed by a SIRS – and came out on the other end, now eating, communicating, getting close to ‘loosing’ the tracheostomy (we hope).

I just cannot, cannot, cannot imagine the will to live, the enormous effort, the gigantic strength it must have taken to do this.

Today – and this is not a ‘first’ but at least a ‘second’ – a nurse said to Pat when she accompanied her and Pádraig for ‘walk on the wild side #4’ (!) that in her 20 years of experience as a nurse she had never ever, nunca jamás, seen so many people visiting on such a regular basis a patient! There must be something special with the Irish, she said (does that make me Irish?:).

And so say all of us!

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This blog is still #4 (one down from last night) of Best Blog Awards Ireland: please keep voting for it: http://www.blogawardsireland.com/best-blog-post-2014/

Keep the date for the poker night for Pádraig (23 August). And, if you’re a better swimmer than a poker player, please join the Sea Swim for Pádraig (06 September)!

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Unheilig, Geboren um zu leben. – Heard this song again on a CD someone had left in the player and listened to the lyrics: 

Wir waren geboren um zu leben
für den einen Augenblick
Bei dem jeder von uns spürte
wie wertvoll Leben ist

Es tut noch weh
wieder neuem Platz zu schaffen
Mit gutem Gefühl
etwas Neues zuzulassen