I'm guessing some of you must be on tenterhooks to know how Jos is doing, so it's only fair to start this post with an update. So, before I take you on a little trip in the time machine, let me tell you about the rollercoaster ride of a week we've just had.
Although Jos is currently doing as well as can be, unfortunately things didn't go exactly as planned, and what should have been a short hospital stay of one or maximum two nights has turned into six.
After dropping him off at the hospital on the morning of Friday the 28th and helping him settle in, the staff turfed me out kindly requested me to leave. I called Inez, who cycled over to the hospital - she only lives 5 mins away - and kept me company while we had coffee and a bite to eat in the excellent cafetaria. Then I bussed home to a confused Bess.
Jos's op was planned for 1.30 pm and I was told to call for news at around 4. When I finally got through to the ward at the appointed time they said he was only just out of theatre and in recovery, and I was advised to call again in an hour.
About twenty minutes later I returned from the bathroom to two missed calls from a withheld number. Knowing instinctively that it must have been someone from the hospital, and keeping in mind having been told I would only be contacted in case of complications, I'm sure you can imagine the state I was in. In a blind panic, I called the hospital and eventually was able to speak to a doctor, who told me that Jos had woken up short of breath and in considerable pain all over his body. Turned out that this was caused by fluid having leaked into his abdomen lining during the procedure of inserting a so-called suprapubic catheter in his abdomen.
Surrounded by an army of doctors - as recalled by Jos - he was then rushed off for tests, including a CTI scan, which thankfully all came back negative. He was given pain relief and had to stay the night in ICU. Thankfully most of the fluid had gone of its own accord by morning as had most of the pain, so that he was able to be transferred to a room on the ward. However, his bladder still needed to be flushed with sterile liquid to remove any blood clots, which took rather a bit longer than expected.
He was finally able to come home on Thursday evening, but while he is feeling surprisingly well at the time of writing, it might take another couple of weeks until he is back to some kind of normal. To say that we're both beyond exhausted is a bit of an understatement.
Once again, I'm dipping into my stash of photos from way back in February, so I'm urging you to fasten your seatbelts so that I can whizz you back to Saturday the 15th of that month.
With highs of only 2°C - as opposed to the Springlike 18°C we've been enjoying today - it was clear that my warm Winter stuff had to work for its money another day.
One of my favourite skirts, a vintage polyester and mohair blend find from Think Twice, came out to play, and was joined by a charity shopped purple and silver vintage C&A jumper. My lilac beret was last year's fast fashion buy, while my purple Western-style ankle boots were picked up from an outlet shop near my office back in December.
To the jumper's assymetrical collar, I pinned a fabric covered badge bought from a craft market held in a neighbours' garden about 13 years ago. The black and white beaded necklace was yet another charity shop find and the chevron patterned stretchy belt with its square black plastic buckle was part of a haul from a bargain shop last Spring.
After a seemingly endless string of gloomy days, we finally woke up to sunny spells that Saturday. By the time we'd finished the day's chores and had lunch, these had become few and far between. However, as it was set to remain dry we drove down to Middelheim for a breath of fresh air and a stroll.
An icy wind was doing its best to thwart us by making our eyes water and having a nip at any exposed extremities.
Not to be deterred, we walked towards the Organic Brutalist marvel which is the Braem Pavillion. Designed by architect Renaat Braem (1910-2001) and completed in 1971, I've got a soft spot for this white painted concrete and brick building, its flowing horizontal lines blending organically into the park landscape.
Dating from 1971 and thus a contemporary of the Braem Pavilion, Bosque Metalica consists of eight separate elements in black, green, orange and yellow. The sculpture is by the Mexican artist Jorge Dubon (1938-2004).
Vierkantrohre Serie D (below, top right) by German artist Charlotte Posenenske (1930-1985) has been attached to the side wall of the Braem Pavilion since 2017. It consists of a set of six hollow forms made of galvanized metal that appear to be part of an industrial ventilation shaft. Very convincingly, it seems, as I only found out this was actually a work of art while I was browsing the museum's online catalogue a couple of years ago.
The flying saucer almost directly below the faux ventilation shaft (above, top and bottom right) is by the legendary Panamarenko (1940-2019), who is considered one of the greatest Belgian artists of the second half of the 20th century. Many of his works are based on the dream of flying and the mythical character of Icarus.
There's currently an exhibition of his work on the occasion of what would have been his 85th birthday, running from 31 January to 4 May in Antwerp's KMSKA museum.
After posing on the Braem Pavilion's back steps, offering a glimpse of my purple opaques and moss green suede boots, we walked around the corner and admired some of the works of art which are currently sharing the Pavilion's limelight.
Top left and right is 1/24 x 23 x 22 x ... x 1 (1970) by Belgian abstract painter and sculptor Bert De Leeuw (1926 - 2007). This sculpture consists of four separate cubic shapes, which can be stacked on top of each other in a different order as well as rotate on their axis. Hence, the artwork can take on many different forms.
Bottom left and right is Solskulptur (1969-1970) by Norwegian sculptor Arnold Haukeland (1920-1983). It is a preliminary study for a nineteen-meter-high sculpture standing in Veritas Park in Baerum, Norway. The memorial was commissioned by Niels Onstad, in memory of his late wife Sonja Henie, a former figure skater. The three rings around the diagonal refer to the Olympic champion's skating moves.
At this point, it was almost inevitable that we would end up in the much maligned Open-Air Depot. On our way up, we spotted Sirene (1934, bottom right), created by another Belgian sculptor, Henri Puvrez (1893-1971). The marble mermaid, who is lovingly holding a fish, is currently encased in a protective cover to combat the elements.
Having arrived at the depot, we spotted Sei Personaggi (Six Figures, 1957 - above, top right) by Luciano Minguzzi (1911-2004) and Tempesta (1956, bottom left) by Carmelo Cappello (1912-1996).
Obviously I couldn't pass Belgian sculptor Félix Roulin's (1931) Colonne. Dating from 1975, it is one of my favourites and I find it impossible to resist its reflective possibilities. Silhouetted against the sky, which at that moment was pin-pricked by a ray of sunshine, it is looking hauntingly atmospheric.
There are nearly a mind-boggling 90 works of art in the depot, more than in any of the other park zones, and I can't help feeling sorry for them.
I'm sure the subdued figure staring solemnly into the distance (above, bottom right) is sharing my feelings exactly. The sculpture is called Grafmonument (Funerary Monument), dates from 1930, and was created by Belgian sculptor Emiel Poetou (1885-1975).
Meanwhile, San Francesco (1957) by the Italian Marcello Mascherini (1906-1983) is raising his arms in despair as another visiting couple was admonished by one of the park wardens (whom the orange bike belongs to) not to touch the sculptures. I might have told him that the museum wasn't exactly treating the sculptures with due respect either.
And look who's here! If it isn't the (Mad) Professor (1969, top left and bottom right) by Hungarian sculptor Imre Varga (1923-2019). I wonder if he remembers the conversation we had back in March 2019.
I'm sure that Running Girl (1976) created by Kurt Gebauer (°1941) remembers our last meeting, though.
I'll be back with further updates and flashbacks soon!
