Our story

From August 2016, Iris and I started to notice that Dad was not doing so well health-wise. He was talking and breathing with difficulty and he was often tired. He said nothing was wrong. He had just been working too hard. He really needed some vitamin D again. We insisted that he should go and see a doctor anyway. He promised to go after the planned holiday in early December.

Last year around this time our parents were flying to Lanzarote for a well-deserved short holiday. This will probably do him well, I thought. During the holiday, Iris and I received a daily update about the wonderful holiday and the beautiful weather. How nice for them! The day before they would come back, Wednesday morning, however, Iris and I received a completely different message…. A very long one from Mum. Dad is not doing well, he has been in hospital since the third day of our holiday. She had pretended that things were okay by using both their phones to send Whatsapp messages because she did not want to worry us, hoping that Dad would soon be discharged from the hospital, but that was not the case.

Of course we were very shocked and immediately asked her if we should catch the next plane to Lanzarote, but it wasn’t that bad, Mum thought. We stayed closely in touch that day, but after her hospital visit Mum said it would be better if we came to Lanzarote. Things were going worse with Dad than she thought. The doctors did not know if he would ever leave the island again.

On Thursday morning at 7 o’ clock the plane took off from Schiphol Airport to Lanzarote. We had booked a one-way trip because we didn’t know how long we would be staying. At the check-in desk, a friendly gentleman asked us if we “were going on a nice holiday trip together” “No”, was our answer. “Oh, are you going on a business trip then?” “No, we are going to Lanzarote because our father is critically ill in hospital there,” said Iris, trying to control her tears.

When we arrived, we went to the hospital together with Mum. It was a short drive from the park where she was staying, so we decided to rent a car so we could go to the hospital twice a day during visiting hours. We arrived at a small municipal hospital, feeling very tense. Mum went into the room first to tell Dad that we were there. Meanwhile, from the hallway Iris and I waved to Guan, an old Spaniard with whom Dad shared the room.

At first, Dad did not want us to enter. He did not want us to see him like that, he gestured to us. He couldn’t talk, because his face was covered by a large ventilation mask. We entered anyway and waved to him. Staying for a long time was not possible, because he was very tired. We tried very hard to control our tears.

We stayed for a week and during this week, Dad started to feel better. After a few days, we could talk to each other when he was allowed to take off the mask. I think that our arrival and the presence of Mum made him feel better and gave him strength to fight. It was sad to say goodbye, but we knew he would be coming home soon.