Chapter 2 Chapter One

what am i doing here i don't belong here Radiohead, from Creep (Pablo Honey, 1992) The time spent on the road was the same as the previous few times, I thought as I walked through the revolving doors of San Lucas Hospital.This is our third time here these days.Today we are going to the ground floor and Carmen's appointment card says "Room 105".The hallway we were going into was packed, and we were about to squeeze our way through the crowd when an elderly man in a visibly wig pointed at a door with a cane. "You go in first and tell them you're here." We nodded and walked into Room 105 anxiously. The small wooden board next to the door read "Internal Medicine Specialist WHF Shetema".It can be seen that the room inside is the real waiting room-the people in the corridor cannot actually be accommodated inside.The patients waiting here are at least ten years older than us, and they all looked at us with pity and sympathy.Hospitals have their own hierarchy too, we are obviously newcomers, we are outsiders in the waiting room, we don't belong here.However, Carmen's breast cancer doesn't think so.

An old woman in her sixties was sitting in a hospital wheelchair, clutching an appointment card with the same plastic cover as Carmen's in her bony hand, and looked us up and down without any scruples.I try to project a sense of superiority - my wife and I are young, beautiful and healthy, much better than you, you wrinkled old skin.Don't think we're going to stay here, we're going to fly out of this cancer nest, but my body language doesn't cooperate, giving away my insecurities.It's like walking into a small town pub and realizing from the sneering eyes that you look like an overdressed Amsterdammer.Wish I hadn't chosen this loose red shirt with snakeskin lace this morning.Carmen was also disturbed.Confirmation: We really belong here from now on.

There is also an information desk in room 105. The nurse sitting behind the information desk seemed to see through our thoughts, and she immediately asked us if we would like to sit in the small room next door.It was timely, because out of the corner of my eye I saw Carmen's eyes filled with tears again.We were greatly relieved not to have to crowd a waiting room or a crowd of walking dead in a hallway. "The day before yesterday must have been a heavy blow." The nurse brought coffee and said to us.It immediately occurred to me that the hospital would have discussed Carmen Van Dienpin's condition.The nurse looked at Carmen, then at me.I tried to pull myself together, a nurse who just met didn't have to see me so pitifully.

Men who pursue many women are almost of two types. One is to seek a woman in all women. This woman exists in their subjective dreams as always. The other is to occupy the infinite variety in the objective female world. Beauty they are seduced by this desire. Milan Kundera, from The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1984) I am a hedonist with a serious loneliness phobia, but my hedonistic thoughts were immediately conquered by Carmen, and I fell in love with her at first sight.But from the very beginning, she was dissatisfied with my panic and anxiety about monogamy.At first, she was somewhat sympathetic, finding my flirtations with other women amused, seeing it as a challenge rather than a warning.

It wasn't until a year later - when we didn't live together - that I slept with Sharon, a receptionist who was then working for the Bonneville advertising agency, and she was convinced that I had never been faithful to her, or even tried. Be faithful.Years later she told me that after Sharon's episode she wanted to dump me, but realized she loved me so much that she simply ignored my infidelity as an irreparable flaw in my character, It's like some people like to pick their noses, while others like to gamble.This gave her a kind of emotional comfort, no longer thinking about her husband "often fooling around with other women".

But, for many years afterwards, she still threatened to leave me if I relapsed.She wanted to make sure that if I cheated again, it would at least be a tight secret from her.This trick really worked. For the next seven years, we were the happiest couple in the Western Hemisphere, and happiness surrounded us. It wasn't until three weeks ago, when Frank Qiang and I were listening to the Holland Casino product manager chatter, that Carmen called me. we know it's the end of the world REM, from Its the End of the World As We Know It The casinos were full of weirdos and women in imitation silk.I've never seen a pretty woman in a casino.Terrible!

So, when the product manager at Holland Casino called and said he wanted to be a client of MIU Marketing Strategies, I naturally told him that casinos are such a crazy place to drive me. Holland Casino is a great place to pass the time for us.The next morning, Frank and I found time to come to this casino in the center of Amsterdam. The product manager showed us around and visited what he called the "commercial center".Business center, yes, "business center", that's the term our clients like to use.I have no opinion.They may be discussing "get together and have a good chat".

We, Frank and I, make a living at MIU.There are people with skills who make products, and people who sell products that are not as respectable, but are very useful nonetheless.Frank and I don't sell products, we sell time.We don't even have to produce it ourselves. Most of the intellectual work at MIU is done by six young men and women in their twenties, all of whom are as sensitive and excitable as Frank and I were before starting our own businesses.Frank and I put together the ideas of these bright young men, put them into a report, have our astonishingly beautiful secretary, Maude, add a beautiful cover, and then we tell the client our ideas with poise.As usual, they responded enthusiastically, raved about us, and then put the idea aside and ignored it.Then we provided the next report to the same client, making a lot of money.This is how our company operates.

Frank asked some questions, which he knew customers always welcome, and the product manager talked about world records for information overload, and I pretended to listen.My listening art is so good that a client thinks I'm brooding over his marketing problem when in reality I'm thinking about sex, the club or Ajax football team.Sometimes, I have absolutely no idea what the client just said, but that doesn't matter much.Unfathomable expressions, furrowed brows, and deceptive silences are the prerequisites for our business, which can even make us more money.As long as you try not to fall asleep, it works, Frank always said.

Today I couldn't bear to fall asleep, and I yawned unmistakably, twice, which annoyed Frank.Just as my upper and lower eyelids were fighting, the phone rang.I breathed a sigh of relief, said sorry, and took my phone out of my pocket.It was Carmen. "Hi baby," I said, turning away from the table. Carmen sobbed over the phone. "Ka, what's the matter?" I was shocked and asked.Frank glanced at me, worried.Product managers are still talking about it.I gestured "don't worry" to Frank and got up from the table to leave. "I'm in the hospital. Not good news," she sobbed.

Hospital!I had forgotten that she had to go to the hospital today.Two days ago, she asked me to see if the nipples were not normal, the nipples were red and swollen, and I tried to convince her that it was just her period, or maybe it was scratched by something in the bra.It doesn't matter.Like that false alarm six months ago.I said to see Dr. Walters if she was worried, and reassure myself. I'm no good at dealing with bad news, and every time I try to convince myself and others that it's not that bad and that everything will be fine.It’s ashamed that sometimes things are irrefutable, inescapable, and unavoidably bad.The same thing happened before, and my dad asked me how the NAC Breda team was doing, and I had to tell him that Breda lost 1-0 to Wenden.It felt like I had given him an own goal.It always feels like telling someone bad news, or hearing bad news, ruins the day. "Listen, Ka, calmly tell me what they said," I said into the phone, careful to avoid the word "doctor" because Frank was nearby. "He wasn't sure either, he thought my nipples looked weird and he said it wasn't good." "Hmm..." My overly pessimistic emotions were transmitted to Carmen's ears from the phone, which made her panic. "I told you my breasts felt hot!" she roared, her voice changing. "Damn it, I knew something was wrong!" "Calm down, honey, not sure—" I ventured. "Do you want me to come with you?" She thought for a moment, "No, there's not much you can do here. They're going to take a blood sample, they're going to do a urine test, and they're going to tell me when I'm going to have a biopsy, like last time, remember?" Now she sounds calm down. Talking about things rationally can help people recover emotionally. "It would be great if you could pick up Luna from daycare. Also, I won't be going to work today." The full name of the company is advertising agency, which is Carmen's company.Carmen came up with the idea of ​​working in ad agencies because she saw me working at Bonneville, a company we called ourselves the Real Madrid of advertising.Carmen used to dislike cliques, “full of swaggering megalomaniacs who thought they were superior to their clients, their colleagues, their God,” she used to say. "Playing with innovation, what they really want is to drive a big stupid car and make a lot of money." She thought it would be fun to disrupt the situation, and at a reception in Boniville, she secretly asked us One client (B&A Center) why don't they sell the product and advertising rights to non-competing companies in other countries. "A brokerage concept, like books, movies and TV shows," she said.The client thought it was a brilliant idea, and the next day he proposed it to Ramon, a Bonneville supervisor.To save trouble, Ramon reluctantly agreed.So Carmen went into battle, and within six months she had sold the rights to the B&A Center's products to companies in South Africa, Malaysia and Chile.The advertising world exploded. They thought it was vulgar, vulgar as hell, like a cattle market.Carmen stands her ground, she has found a treasure.Suddenly, everyone wanted to be a client of an advertising agency.Advertising agencies were born.No one would have guessed that they were earning four or five times as much now because of Carmen.Previously clients were biting the bullet and paying by the hour, which was more expensive than their trip to one of Amsterdam's poshest men's clubs, such as the Avène Club, and soon they were seeing the profits from the big-splash ad campaigns.And these are just because Carmen saw the opportunity to sell the advertisement to a distant country.Within two years, Carmen had 20 people under her command, and her clients were all over the world.She is very proud of this self-made business. Sometimes, on a whim, she will choose a good place and fly to visit her clients, which is very enjoyable. "It's such a good feeling!" she says every time she lands a new client. I can't go to daycare with a long face.I hope to be out of here before six o'clock.What's for dinner then?I couldn't help laughing.We never gave a damn about our meals, we always thought about eating at the last minute, and were surprised to find that there was nothing in the house except a drawer of baby food that Luna ate.Friends make fun of how much we spend each week at Domino's, Chinese takeout, street corner. "Let's get something to eat, you go home as soon as possible, so I can give you a hug. Maybe, nothing will happen in the end." I tried to put my tone lightly and hung up the phone, but my back was drenched with sweat up.I have a vague feeling that our lives have just hit the rocks.I stared ahead, thinking there must be a positive side to the situation, and then we'll be at peace, make a list, write down everything, and look at the good things.We can use this to comfort Carmen, who is sitting in that terrible hospital right now. Then I took a deep breath and walked back to the table where Frank was with the product manager, who had just started raving about turning new customers into regulars. you are so happy but it's all over Jan Wolkers, Turks Fruit (1973) I parked my Chevrolet Trailblazer across from my house, our house is on Amsterdamstrasse, right on the edge of the Amsterdam forest. I hate the Amsterdam Forest, I hate the Amsterdam Road, I hate our house.We lived downtown for five years, on the second floor of an apartment on Waddell Road.Luna was less than two months old, and Carmen had the idea of ​​moving. First, she wanted to give Luna a better living environment. Second, she was tired of having to carry the baby carriage every time she went out or came home. and I spend twenty minutes circling around the neighborhood looking for a parking space every day when I get home.Once we had a picnic in Wardle Park, just after setting up the food basket and two bottles of rosé wine on the tablecloth, we realized that Carmen had forgotten her diaper—“No, you go get it, Dan—” and she went into admiration In Amstelveen, where each house has its own independent garden, we finally decided to move and chose a house on Amstelveen Straße. Our home was number 872, a typical antebellum cottage that had been lovingly remodeled by the previous owner.The fronts of the houses were painted black, and the wood-vaulted roofs were green with white edges.The real estate agent called the roof "beautiful".What do you mean by beautiful, I thought to myself, this is not Zaandam, or even a protected area.But Carmen's desire to move was growing, she was pressing her, and besides, at least we didn't have to move to a dull suburb like Hetkoy or Amir, it was here.Although this still belongs to Amsterdam, it is full of Amsterdam flavor.From the very beginning I felt out of place here.As I drove up to the A10 viaduct out of town, I felt like I was on an expedition. "Look, zebra!" I said when we first went to see the house.Carmen was not amused.There are no trams here, but there are buses that pass by the door.Just think about it.But it's good to live here for a few years, until MIU and advertising agencies take off and become a gold mine, until we can afford a first-floor apartment in the center of Amsterdam, zebra be zebra. The black Beetle was parked fifty yards away, and I knew Carmen was home.I took Luna out of the car, ran to the door, took a deep breath, and put the key in the lock.My nerves were even tighter than in 1995 when Ajax played 1-0 and Ajax had to come back in the last few minutes to beat AC Milan. Luna is my sunshine and we have the same birthday.I knew from the moment she was born that my friends would be there for her sixtieth birthday and they wouldn't miss the sight of my daughter's beautiful, fit young friend running around my house. This seems to be an unusual evening.As soon as Luna saw Carmen, she laughed, her little face was almost split in half, and Carmen called out "Lu—————" in a drawn-out voice as usual, with a silly expression, imitating Luna's appearance. He trotted, then squatted down and hugged her.Luna also happily replied "Mom-Mom--".This evening this scene touched my heart more than ever. "Hi sweetheart," I said as Carmen stood up, and I kissed her on the lips.We hugged and she burst into tears immediately.Goodbye, ordinary evening, unusual.I hugged her tightly, looking over her shoulder, there was nothing.I told her everything would be fine in the end, just like it was six months ago.This is the best consolation I can say since the afternoon. She's in bed and I hold her tight.We started kissing and I could tell from the way she acted that she was excited.She hugged me from behind and whispered in my ear, "Are you having sex with me?" Then she covered my mouth so as not to wake Luna who was sleeping next door. Carmen undressed in the bedroom while I inspected her breasts.The first time I saw her naked, I gaped and stared straight at her body.I stammered that I had never slept with such a wonderful body, and she laughed that she had noticed me not taking my eyes off the cleavage in her low-cut black T-shirt that evening at Rosa's.After Luna was born, her breasts sagged a bit, but I didn't think it affected it, it was still attractive.Carmen can turn me on just by undressing and showing her wonderful tits.Every night is a feast.Life with Carmen is a feast, a feast of the body as well as a feast of the spirit. Right after our passion was over, she started crying again. "Don't do this, baby." I comforted in a low voice, kissed her hair lightly, and buried my face in her hair. "It's your birthday next week," she said later when I turned out the lights, "and that might be the last time I celebrate you." "Regret" is always too late Extince, from On the Dance Floor (binnenlandse funk, 1998) It was half past three and I still hadn't fallen asleep.I kept thinking about how to report the bad news again to family and friends.Just like the situation half a year ago, when the results of the inspection are still unclear, let everyone worry with us.The biopsy was scheduled for Friday, ten days later. Although Carmen wanted to have surgery as soon as possible to determine whether there was anything wrong with her body, Dr. Walters told Carmen that they could not do it sooner. He reassured us that ten days would be fine anyway.When I got angry about it again this evening, Carmen said angrily, "So what can I say, Dan? Say we do our own biopsies?" I shut up after that. Doctor Walters.In the past six months, I have only seen him for about half an hour, but I can clearly remember his face.About 55 years old, gray hair, side parted, wearing round glasses, white clothes.The nightmare began after Carmen went to the family doctor, Dr. Barker, for an examination half a year ago.He suggested that we go to the hospital for a breast examination, saying it was just for insurance.We were terrified.At the San Lucas hospital we saw Dr. Walters, he checked and said Carmen needed a biopsy, which made us even more scared.Not because we know what a biopsy is, but because if you go to the hospital and have a test you've never heard of, that's bad news in itself. The night before the biopsy, as we lay in the afterglow of our bedroom, I tried not to let Carmen notice that I was racing inside.Because I could see in her eyes before bedtime that she was terrified.I really understand, because for us, cancer equals death. Dr. Walters' words echoed in my ears, "The cells are active, we're not sure what it is yet, but whatever it is, it's not malignant." I remember we were all so relieved as soon as he finished, we just wanted to hurry up Out of the hospital, far away, back to our happy lives, we can continue to live happily for a long time to come, just as we planned.What we have is time, and what we have is plans for thousands of years.As soon as we walked out of the hospital, we hugged each other tightly.We were as happy as if we had just had a healthy baby.I happily called Carmen's mom, Thomas and Anne, Frank and Mulder and told them it was all right and Carmen was healthy. Not malignant.Shouldn't we ask Dr. Walters what this uncertainty is?Shouldn't we go to another hospital and hear a different opinion?After all, isn’t it our own fault?Aren't we prevaricating ourselves?Carmen was understandably happy and relaxed, but shouldn't I have continued to seek results and insisted that the doctor continue to check until it was completely clear what was going on?I am the idiot, not Dr. Walters.After all, I am her husband.Shouldn't I protect her? Maybe none of this will ever happen, the words came to my mind. It won't be like that again this time.If next week he reassures that everything is okay, I'm going to grab him by the doctor's gown and drag him out from behind the desk.I promise to do what I say. smile, just a mockery Rita Hovink, from Laat me alleen (Een rondje van Rita, 1976) Carmen was undergoing a biopsy in the oncology department of San Lucas Hospital, and I saw the door plate on the sliding door saying "oncology department".I vaguely know the word, but I don't know what it has to do with cancer, it seems so innocuous, more like studying how mammoths went extinct or something. San Lucas Hospital.Some people think that big Opa car park is the most dull building in Amsterdam, others choose the Dutch bank, or the high-rise buildings in the Bimar district.I would like to invite them to visit San Lucas Hospital.The sight of it stretching beside the A10 viaduct gives me a pimple. Luna dances in the air with her toy figure Elmo, which she got for her birthday last week.Carmen sat on the edge of the bed. She had just been weighed and had her blood drawn.She threw the black bag with her toiletries, slippers, a Persian silk pajamas (I didn't know she still had them) and a copy of Marie Claire on the bed.I sat down next to her, with my coat still on, and picked up the two brochures we had just received, a green one, What You Need to Know for Cancer Patients and a blue one, Understanding Breast Cancer.Both brochures bear the logo of the Queen Vehminna Foundation.I started looking through the blue brochures like a tax-free guide on a plane to get myself in the mood.At the top of the first page is the target audience of the manual, and I see that Carmen and I belong to the target audience.I don't like to belong to any target group, let alone the target group of this kind of manual.On the table of contents page I see chapter headings, what is cancer, prosthetic breasts, fighting pain.Why do we watch this kind of stuff?Isn't it just a slice operation?We just can't just temporarily act like everything is normal, maybe the shrinking nipples on the inflamed breasts are caused by hormones or something?The breasts have become redder and bigger these days, and I can tell even without special training. It is now nine o'clock and a nurse walks in.She was holding a case file with Carmen's name on it. "Seeing it again." I nodded at the case file. Carmen smiled, slightly. "The slice operation is arranged at 12 o'clock." The nurse said. The nurse is about 50 years old.She tried to be as objective as possible when she spoke.At one point she even put her hand on Carmen's lap to reassure her.Carmen is friendly, and she is with everyone.I feel weird and what I really want to do is take Luna back to nursery and then go to MIU as soon as possible.I don't know what else to do after leaving this hospital on a day like this. Try to make the day as normal as possible, I think. Carmen sensed my uneasiness and said with a smile, "You go, I can do it by myself. MIU's coffee is much better." "We'll call you when your wife wakes up from anesthesia," the nurse said. Luna and I hugged Carmen, and I whispered to her that I loved her.I blew her a kiss at the door and Luna waved. Carmen forced a smile. I hide my tears behind fake smiles Isley Brothers, from I Hide My Tears Behind a Painted Smile (Soul On the Rocks, 1967) At ten o'clock, I open the door of the office, which is in the Olympic Stadium.From the moment we got the keys it made me feel more comfortable than home.Part of my youth belonged to this gym.Coming here from Breda at the age of sixteen, I found colorful Amsterdam in the early 1980s fascinating.Often, I would take the train to Amsterdam on a Sunday, and on Monday morning I could tell everyone at school how hot Ajax (or Oh Jax as we called it) was. Frank likes beautiful women, and I like Ajax, so our office is located under the stands of the Olympic Stadium, which is the most compromised way.I insisted on putting a huge 7€?.5 painting on the entire side wall, in which you can see the players walking on the pitch amidst countless small flags and red smoke before the Champions League final. MIU's office looks just like my bedroom when I was fifteen, only ten times bigger and cooler.It belonged to Frank and the designer, a effeminate Englishman with funky funny glasses.He thought my football complex didn't fit the general style of the place.I said that would be difficult, and I also said that his idea was very good, but he couldn't move my painting.I am very principled when it comes to football.He reluctantly agreed, but asked for carte blanche to deal with the rest of the office as compensation. "I'm fine with that," I said.And that's it.He insisted on placing three plexiglass screens in the open space of the office, 2 meters wide and 1.5 meters high, one red, one yellow, and one blue.He also insisted on pink fluorescent lighting behind the bookshelves, and one 5-meter-high wall was painted apple green, while the other was covered with a Persian-inspired tapestry.I thought it was really colorful, but the decoration was over budget, Frank laughed at me for bringing it on.