In the Netherlands: a shift

It was on my second day in the Netherlands that I had, for the Nth time, the discussion with my mum about the near future. My mother had kept insisting that she could perfectly do without help. But she was the only person believing that. We would not leave her alone. So as long as she refused help, but couldn't get out of bed, my two aunts, my sister and me would just keep turning up. And I think the penny dropped. That changed her mind. Suddenly, she said she wanted to go to a care home. 

I didn't know what was happening to me. But I immediately notified one of her sisters, and the GP. The GP said they would send a geriatric district nurse at some unknown time in the future, to assess the situation. And then things would move from there. I was very relieved! I was of the solid conviction my mother couldn't be left alone for considerable periods of time, and it is very difficult to have someone there every day if you are drawing from a pool of two people living abroad, one 90-year-old on the other side of the country, and one 78-year-old nearby. For what easily could be months on end. 

If she would agree to go to a care home, at least none of us would have to worry about her trying to stagger to the loo, falling over, breaking a hip, not being found until 12 hours later, and then having to go hospital where she really doesn't want to be. That would really help!

Now that she had made that decision, she also wanted it to be implemented right now. But we didn't know when the district nurse would come for the evaluation, let alone how fast things would be happening after that. After some pushing, we heard she would be coming the Monday after. I would already be home. My sister would still be there. Only just! 

Phoning the district nurse herself then revealed that if she would deem the situation severe enough, she could report back to the GP, who in turn could arrange emergency admission somewhere. So maybe my mum would be in professional hands soon. A relief! 

In the Netherlands: other activities

When I was staying at my mum’s, of course my mum was my main priority. But I also took the opportunity to connect with my aunt Len. I think Jose was relieved to not have to go to Amersfoort for a few days, so I didn’t see her again after her being there when I arrived. 

Len suggested coffee at another relative’s place: Jennifer, who I had met before, thanks to my sister. She is the daughter of one of the younger uncles. And then lunch in town, just the two of us.

It was great to see Jennifer. And after the coffee, as we were biking around anyway to get to our lunch venue, Len and I popped past the old family home, and the grave of my grandparents. The lunch in town was lovely. This was the first time ever I had had some quality time with her. It felt very natural! 

My grandparents’ grave

I also saw a fair number of people who live in the same complex as my mum. Mostly, that was just a brief chat, but I did pop down to have a glass of wine with Mieke.

I also went on some runs, of course. The first day, I biked to the edge of town and ran from there. The other days I kept it shorter; just two laps around the city walls. A bit more urban than going to the woods, but still beautiful… 

Running amidst autumn colours 

In the Netherlands: my mum

I was one hour delayed arriving in the Netherlands, but otherwise my travels went well. When I got to my mum’s, my aunt was still there. It was lovely to see her! But then I wanted to get to my mum. My aunt understood, so I barged into the bedroom. It was so good to see her! 

Reaching the Netherlands 

My mum looked so frail! I was glad to be there. But after the initial meeting I waved off my aunt. She had to get home. 

I took my usual place in the spare room. And I could fill my mum’s glass of water, help her get up to drink it, do shopping, make her an occasional sandwich, and things like that. I also popped to a local medical centre to see if there were any aids I could rent or borrow. And I had a set of keys cut for my other aunt (with my mum’s permission, of course). In the meantime, my sister was organising a trip over. 

The local medical centre

My mum appreciated the visits but didn’t understand the fuss. What was the problem; she could still get to the loo! What more did she need? That her going to the loo was very precarious, and bound to go catastrophically wrong sooner or later, was neither here nor there in her opinion. And that I struggled to imagine her successfully fetching her own glass of water didn’t strike her as relevant either. 

She clearly also couldn’t clean the house or do laundry or any of that anymore. She didn’t even know where her glasses were. But she claimed she was fine. My mum, stubborn? Surely not. 

This was going to be an interesting visit! But I was really glad I was there… 

Drop everything and plan to go to the Netherlands

I couldn’t get my mum on the phone. That had happened before. But this time, I then got a message from from my aunt Jose to say she had tried to visit, with an actual appointment, but that she found my mum unwell in bed. She didn’t want any fuss, or anything really, and my aunt had to leave. 

I was wondering whether earlier failed attempts to phone my mum had reflected a similar situation. Would she have felt rubbish and been in bed? Unable to walk to the phone? It would have been a fairly regular occurrence then. But she would never tell me.

At that initial visit, my aunt did what she could and then left. But she came back. And rallied my other aunt Len. Jose is 90 and lives on the other side of the country; Len is the youngest of the (originally 9) siblings and lives in the same town as my mum. Unsurprisingly, as it is their home town.

My mum was just about able to go to the loo, but that was it. So she needed help. And my aunts provided it. And my mum showed no sign of perking up again, and being able to make herself a sandwich, let alone going out to buy sandwich ingredients. Or even go to the door to accept a delivery. Not that she wanted anything to eat.

If you are 86, only lie in bed, and don’t eat, you get weak. It might finish you off. So I spoke with the aunts, and decided to book a flight and come over. Was that convenient with work? No, of course not. My week was chock full of its usual teaching, plus teaching that had had to be moved from my period of jury service. But I only have one mum! And she needed help. So I sent a message to my line manager, sent announcements to all students it affected, and to the people who were on the modules with me. And then I was ready to go. I wanted to see my mum! 

Own the night 2026

Last year I joined the Cybi Striders when they organised a run to draw attention to that many women sometimes feel unsafe when running alone in the dark. And they organised it again this year. And I had had a bit of a weird weekend, and could do with a few friendly faces around me. So I joined again. This time alone; last year Neil had joined me. 

The group was smaller and the weather better. We set off as usual towards Belgian Promenade. Last year we ran around Church Island, but not this time. And they organised it along the main road towards Llanfair, and then up the hill to run the high road back to Porth. Then we went down Penlon. 

Group pic

I caught up with lots of running friends: Emma, Katie, Lauren, Louise, Kevin… the latter was not in the best of health and I wasn’t sure he should be there. But it was good to see him. 

I am sure we did it quicker than last year. And that’s ok! And this time, nobody went to the pub afterwards. Which is also ok. It was nice to stretch my legs a bit, with lovely people, after a weekend with mainly indoorsiness! 

Additional medal rack

When I came home from the Abergele 5 & 10k I couldn’t put my medals on my medal rack anymore (I already have two). It was full! So it was time to add a third one. And it made sense to put it below the main one. 

I did that now. It’s a bit busy! But well, the new rack will have to go somewhere. So here it is now. Space for a fair few additional races! 

No Eryri Marathon

My plan for the Saturday was to support Marathon Eryri. Quite a lot of my fellow Harriers, including Chris, would run it, and I wanted to cheer them on. 

It was not to be. The day before, news reached me that the race had been cancelled. Storm Boelo was making it too tricky. 

Storm Boelo makes himself known 

Thinking about the race had woken up something in me. Should I try to run another marathon? And if yes, why not this one? It is on the road but beautiful, and nearby. What more would you want?

I had already decided I should register for next year. But with this year’s episode cancelled, all runners are transferred to next year. I suppose that means there will barely be any tickets available for other people. I am sure that not everyone who was going to run it this year still wants to do it next year, but probably the majority does.

Chris was disappointed. I can imagine! He had really been preparing for it. And anticipating. We will have to see how he feels about the race next year.

Maybe I get to support next year. And what about a marathon? There is also one in Chester. Not as close by, and not as beautiful, but still quite doable. I might give it a go! If I just make sure to have a few paracetamol at the start, maybe I can make it happen without problems with my IT bands. But I suppose I should go and run 35 km on the road before I register, to see how it feels! It it goes well I can probably do the remaining 7k on race vibes…