Ireland, in a way, is anarchic. Would you agree?

There are no ‘real’ rules, bureaucracy doesn’t work because nobody cooperates, everything you do is as if you were doing it for the first time. If you want to get something done you need to know the right people. If you want a passport or a pension, your local T.D. (or member of parliament) will fix that for you, not the relevant office in the correct Department – I know these are clichés and they don’t always work, but they do kinda.

I had to think of that today, because Pádraig’s friends who will be running the marathon with me tomorrow (well, they will be ‘running’) went out last night in the “Sternschanze” which is where the cool people hang out. They came about a party and alternative film event organised by what they felt were anarchists – with a difference: the German anarchists were actually very organised and had managed to put together quite an impressive event… it sounded so funny. Even the anarchists are organised in Germany. Just think about it…

Pádraig is now getting in and out of bed without the lifter. With the help of another person, I am now managing to get him out of bed and into his wheelchair and back into bed. There is still a bit of tension and at times it feels a bit too close to panic, but we are clearly doing a better job every day, learning to do it slowly and securely. In the process, Pádraig has learned how to put his arms around my shoulders (with a lot of help), feel his weight on his feet while I am standing him up, and, best of all, can avoid being transferred in the lifter which works fine but must feel a bit strange.

Today, I got a phone call from a very old friend with whom I had not been in touch with for, I’d say, thirty odd years. He was in Dublin and had decided to look me up in the telephone directory. The Telephone Directory! He then tried the web and found my letter to the Taoiseach, with my telephone number and address. If you had told someone that this was the way to find an old friend 10-15 years ago, they would have told you that you were reading too much science fiction. It was great to hear his voice, his news, to know, that after all these years, we were still in each other’s mind, and hear our promise to arrange to meet some time soon.

My legs and my back already feel very tired. Time to give them a rest for the big day tomorrow.

Before I go: here is the 10th and last step to germanise yourself.

Why beating around the bush if you can be brutally honest? Say the Germans. There would be murder if we told each other the truth about what we think about each other. Tja. German are not in for small talk. Why would you waste your time making conversation, if you can liberate yourself and all the people around you by telling them what you think?

Way back, in this ‘Wohngemeinschaft’ in Köln, we had weekly sessions when we told each other the truth. We were sitting around the table when I gathered all the courage of the world and told one of the girls we were living with that I couldn’t stand when she was cleaning her knife by licking it – my mind just went into overdrive and projected this image of the knife cutting straight through her tongue. She didn’t thank me for my honesty. In fact, she asked me who the h…. I thought I was insulting her that way? She got so upset that I thought that instead of licking the knife she was going to stick it right in between my ribs. Luckily, she didn’t.

In between all the work and hustle, in between the mechanics of life that we have to deal with, in between all the ‘to do’ stuff, in between this endless tiredness. I wonder, what would he do now? What would he say? What would he write? What would he answer? How would he react?

If he could.

Whatever it would be. It would be beautiful.

When his two friends arrived today who will be running the Hamburg marathon on Sunday way ahead of me, there was a huge big beautiful smile on his face.

Dreamboater.

Beautiful.

Auf jeden Fall.

How to germanise yourself, 9/10:

When we started to plan for Pádraig’s care, it had always been one of our aims to remove the tubes that Pádraig has been connected to. Apart from sensors leading to all kinds of different monitors to which he was connected to until early January, there were the tracheostomy, the catheter, and the PEG. In January, the tracheostomy went.

Today, a urologist came to our apartment for about 5 minutes and removed the second tube. It all seemed to be so easy. But it was big. A big day. One to remember: 23.4. – the 23rd of April.

Pádraig is also working very hard to get on eating and drinking. There is still some time to go before he will be able to eat and drink enough to get rid of the tube, but I am convinced that this day will come. Soon.

Here is where lesson 8 will come in handy.

Lesson 8 in how to germanise yourself… I know, there was a bit of a break in the lessons, but I hope you haven’t forgotten 1-7. If you have, review lessons are readily available in earlier posts:)

Good night, 23.4.

There are good places to be. And there are horrifically bad places to be.

The world seemed a good place to be today: there was sunshine, it was warm, and people were out and about. So were we.

It is hard to imagine, that at the same time there is a tribunal going on in Lüneburg, one of the most horrific tribunals you could imagine, just about 30 minutes by train southeast of Hamburg. Herbert Gröning is the subject of what might be Germany’s last big tribunal against a Nazi and worker in a concentration camp. He is accused of having directly supported the killing of 300,000 people, working on the ramp in Birkenau and Auschwitz – though he claims and has not been proven wrong that he personally never killed anybody while there.

If convicted, he faces a minimum of, wait, three years in prison. Three full years. When I heard that on the radio the other day, I first thought I had misunderstood. But half an hour later, at the next newscast, they repeated it: a minimum of three years for helping to kill 300,000 people. The other, hard to believe issue arising from the tribunal is that it was well know in Germany for decades where Herbert Gröning lived, who he was, and what he had done. But, apparently, the State could not make a case. I find that incredible. For me, this shows an approach that worked in the decades immediately following the collapse of the Nazi Regime: some high-ranking perpetrators were judged, many many people were re-introduced to their previous positions of power, including nazi judges that were made judges in the new post-war West-Germany. – All this is why I, and I think a lot of the Germans of my generation, will never really feel proud to be German, waving flags and singing the national anthem.

Today, there were two firsts: Pádraig’s physio transferred Pádraig into his wheelchair without a lifter by ‘standing’ him up, turning him, and sitting him down into the wheelchair. He was really happy that he had managed to do this and it was clear that Pádraig was too: he helped as much as he could along the way. Then the physio left.

By now you will now what the second ‘first’ today was: I managed to get Pádraig out of his wheelchair back into his bed by ‘standing’ him up, turning him around and sitting him back into his bed. There really was no other way to get Pádraig back into bed – trying to fit his ‘Liftertuch’ behind his back and underneath his legs while sitting in the wheelchair would have been very difficult.

In he late afternoon, we went out for a walk, back to the park and the weir.

There was water, people walking and jogging by, birds were singing, ducks were quaking, and the world seemed to be a good place to be.

I checked the weather today. They say it’s going to rain on Sunday.

This afternoon Pádraig and I listened to Amhrán do Phádraig. I still cannot believe that this is for real. In a way, as time passes, this CD and the talent, creativity, and effort that made it possible become more monumental. Altogether, it took months of really dedicated and enthusiastic work. What it gives me, each time I listen to it, is the reassurance that anything is possible.

It’s ok to have doubts. It’s ok to even be desperate at times. But as you move through life, whatever life it might be, you need to believe, know that you can get into this Dreamboat and float down the stream of your life with all the other Dreamboaters who will support you, be with you, believe with you and in you.

When I started to write this blog, Pádraig was in a very different place than he is now. So was I. When I started to write this blog I had no idea of how the next year and a half would turn out that this was not about returning to whatever we had before, but moving on to what we have now.

In a way, it’s exactly what you’re told all the time: not to look back, not to plan too far ahead, but to live in the here and now with what you’ve got. And to breath in and to breath out. It’s all about O2 and CO2.

I promised Pádraig to run a marathon as long as he continued to make an effort to make the best of his life, to keep fighting, to keep trying as hard as he could. This coming Sunday will be marathon number 4 (not counting my very first which I ran because I thought: now or never). There’ll be a ‘troika’ running – with Andrew and Cian hitting the finishing line while I’ll still be gasping for air and water somewhere in the second half. – Fingers crossed that they got the forecast for Sunday wrong. Marathons and rain ain’t good companions.

Today, I gave my last lecture. Of this semester. There will be a summer school in May. Exams. And then, this academic year will be over. The summer ahead already promises to be really busy. I am sure it will be over in a wink. Life after the summer will be very different, in many way.

These days, something is changing with Pádraig. I would not be surprised if he started to talk or move around. Slowly and unspectacular in a way, but super-spectacular under the circumstances. The last month has been up-setting and was marked by a distinct absence of routine. That’ll come back and on the back of it, we will do and try out many new things. Things Pádraig hasn’t done for a long time. Yesterday’s visit to the park was just the beginning.

There will also be more time, to write the Cape Cod Story. To put An Saol back on track. To have good times with friends. To make New Memories. So that it won’t be always looking back, crying my eyes out for what is lost. Because that is lost and gone. Tomorrow is waiting for us. For the Dreamboaters.

Sunny Sunday. So we went out for a walk. The new wheelchair is absolutely amazing. It almost rolls by itself. Unless you are a wheelchair expert, you would probably not appreciate the difference between wheelchairs. I remember that when we asked for a new wheelchair for Pádraig, even the physios in the Schön-Klinik did not immediately see the point – we were concert about the size. But it’s not just the size. This new wheelchair doesn’t just fit so much better, it also moves so much smoother.

The result: we went further then we ever went before on our walk today. Into a park. Up to a weir of the river Wandse, running through a little valley not too far away from our apartment. It was brilliant. The first time in almost two years, Pádraig saw a river, heard water running through a weir, heard the wind in the trees and bushes. It made me start planning our summer and getting really excited – I can just imagine what it did to Pádraig.

There are many many details from our visit to Boston and Cape Cod that I want to write about. It’ll take a bit of time because some of it is complex. But there are a few things we learnt that are important to know in relation to what happened to Pádraig and also so very important to know for all the thousands of students going on a J1 to the US, and for parents sending off their children to work in the US for the summer.

Not tonight, but sometime soon.

Plans to catch up with some details on the trip to Boston, on the lessons learned are not working out yet. Between our ‘stand-in’ returning back to Dublin today and some of Pádraig’s friends visiting this afternoon, the day just went past flying.

Pádraig is doing well. He is really alert. This afternoon, he held both hands together and lifted up and lowered down both of this lower arms. There is so much going on that I had not noticed so clearly but now do notice, not having seen him for a few days. Pádraig is noticing so much more than before, he is so much more alert and interested and responsive that I an convinced that he will make much more progress, now that there will be no more (planned) operations.

This afternoon was really nice with Pádraig’s friends being around and bringing some young energetic life to the apartment. It’s really amazing to see how well they connect, although I am sure it’s not easy for either of them.

Tomorrow week is the day of the Hamburg Marathon. There will be two of Pádraig’s friends and myself running. Please check out Andrew’s fundraising page

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Tonight was going to be the night I was going to write about the constant fight to do the right, thing.

Now my eyes are getting smaller I’m not getting any taller but curl up to sleep until the new dawn will break.

It was brilliant to see Pádraig again today. I had lost my sense of time , sense of space and location. So I wasn’t sure for how long I had not seen him. One day, on week, one month.

He is fine and getting back to normal after the operation. It will take me a bit longer, even without an opera-tion.

A(other) very short blog tonight/today from the plane back to Germany. It was a shorter visit to Boston than planned and we are on our long way back to Pádraig.

There is too much going on around me and it is too late, or is it too early, to make any sense out of it or even to write a simple account of what happened.

In a way, this visit was a return. This trip, in either direction, is a return, if you get my drift, – each to a very different kind of life.

Once the tiredness is gone, I’ll make sense of it and share that with you. Stay tuned, as they say.

Can’t wait to see Pádraig again.