Because we met each other on the 30th (of May 1998, to be exact), we always celebrate the 30th (of every month) with a nice dinner. Not this month. This 30th I’m in hospital. This 30th we had a meeting with two doctors and the moment they moved us to a private room, I knew bad news was coming.

And it was. Experts had examined ‘the spot’ on the scan and their conclusion was very clear: brain tumor. The location of it isn’t good. Deep and in a crossroad of nerves. So they want to do more scans to check my whole body to see if this tumor is an isolated incident or part of metastases. Gulp.

And then they showed their heart and humanity…they allowed me to go home for the night, so Peter and I could process this news together in the privacy of our own home.

I can’t put into words how good it was to be home. My parents and my brother and sister-in-law had planned to visit the hospital that night and now joined us at home and that meeting was exactly what we all needed. We shared our fear, our tears, but also our hope and our love. This 30th wasn’t a party, but pretty special nevertheless.