Well, the new stage began with some stress. During the holidays my partner and I got a phone call to go to a research centre and get some tests done. We are participating in the first study in Spain about the health condition of the vegan/vegetarian population (yes, I was eager to say it, I am proud to help in this regard). The appointment was June 27th. The day of the journey I had woken up at 6 in the morning and I had not had a proper rest in the last two days. As I know I always get sick when my blood is extracted, I warned the nurse. She tried with my left arm but there was no luck, and as I had predicted, I started to feel dizzy, maybe due to the needle digging through my vein for a while. So they reclined the chair and fanned me before trying in the right arm. At this point I had already recovered and the extraction was relatively quick (30 ml. take some time to come out). The bad thing is that afterwards, on the way home, I felt dizzy a couple of times more, even when I had eaten a banana. Probably it was due to the heat in the subway. I always say it is because I have low blood pressure, but apparently people with high blood pressure also get sick. Others say it is simply due to apprehension. But it is curious that when it happens to me I am not usually nervous, neither does it have any relation with blood. I have assisted in quite bloody surgeries like the removal of the spleen and nothing happened to me. But sometimes, no idea why, I suddenly turn white and I have to sit down for fear of fainting. I have my own theory about why this has happened to me in certain occasions, but I won’t speak of it today.
The truth is I wasn’t expecting to find Katrina upon my return from holidays. But, can I fool my soul? We are in June. I have good reasons to think that from May on Katrina was faced with the most devastating events in her life, those that little by little undermined her strength and eventually defeated her. And it seems yesterday someone decided it was time to give me a new piece of the puzzle.
At the beginning of the meditation, I focus on the sadness I feel in my heart. I start to see I am somewhere, in the middle of nowhere. I know Johanne has to leave but I don’t want him to go. I fear I won’t see him again, and I feel the lump in my throat. I don't know if I get to say all I feel for him. I see him in front of me, dressed in uniform, quite taller than me (a head taller perhaps), so young. He tries to cheer me up and assures me everything will be all right and we will soon be together, but I don’t believe him, though I don’t tell this to him. He holds me tight and I rest my left cheek on his left shoulder, weeping. I think it is here that he gives me his photograph, and later I keep it safe between the yellowish sheets of a notebook.
It seems we are in a rural region in France. It is sunny and the sky is clear, blue. I think we left the train not long ago and now we nurses travel in a military bus. But he and other soldiers have to go ahead and part with us, as if they were the vanguard. We still have no permanent place to sleep. The suitcase goes in the bus, below in a trunk. I wear the nurse’s uniform and I use to carry a small brown bag (similar to a toilet bag, with buttons). There I carry the basic things, such as a little hairbrush and a wallet with my ID. The ground is sandy but there are also paved parts.
Johanne and I say goodbye. I would say there are stone fountains near, with pipes, where I fill up a small water bottle. Then I get on the bus, take a seat near the back on the left side, close to the window. It seems I am waiting for the rest of nurses. I try not to cry, but my eyes fill with tears. Flashes come to me of bullet holes in cars or vans, burnt cars of which only the carcasses remain. Ruined houses, the sound of bombers flying over our heads. I am so scared. Above all, I fear something bad will happen to him. However, he is always all enthusiasm, he always has a smile on his face even in the middle of the war. He must be the same with his comrades, he must be a light for them as he is for me... I think I wish I had been one of them, and so at least I would have died by his side.
“Find your strength”, comes to my mind. I suppose this is the reason he left me alone. And I reply, “But how? I’m always lost without you.” (I remember Roderic).
On the bus I pray God that nothing bad will happen to him. “Please, don’t let him come to any harm”, comes to my current mind. They are the lyrics of a song by Chris de Burgh. I was grateful for having him, for having found him, but somehow I knew it wasn’t going to end well. I know it wasn’t the last time I saw him alive, but I do believe it was the last time I could embrace him. He caresses my face and wipes away my tears, and I softly take his hand away, staring at his blue eyes so full of hope and enthusiasm... and I wonder how it is he doesn’t realize he is going straight to meet death. I already feel the emptiness of his absence...
At night it seems we take refuge in some kind of warehouse or industrial plant. We make room and sleep on sleeping bags, which are like rolled blankets, of a grayish or brown color. A coworker tells me I must eat something, but I have a knot in my stomach. Anyway canned food is all we have, nothing too appetizing.
(Regression 29-6-2017).