The abduction of Caramen T.

Post-Operative bleeding.
October 1st, 2018

On September 30th, I was transferred URGENT back to the ICU

From my bed at the ICU, I messaged Inge to tell her the bad news.

The Intensive Care department started to try to bring down the blood pressure with all the medication they had.

At a certain point, I was taking 20 different medications altogether in order to lower my blood pressure.
- Enoxaparine injection 40mg, 2 times a day, 1 injections.
- Amoxicilline tablet 1g/62.5mg, 3 times a day, 1 tablet.
- Bisoprol 10/25mg, 1 time a day, 1 tablet.
- Spironolacton 25mg, 1 times a day, 1 tablet.
- Bumetanide 1mg, 1 times a day, 1 tablet.
- Moxonidine 0.4mg, 1 time a day, 1 tablet.
- Linagliptine 5mg, 1 time a day, 1 tablet.
- Losartan 50mg, 2 times a day, 1 tablet.
- Movicol bag, 2 times a day, 1 bag.
- Zolpidem 10mg, 1 time a day, 1 tablet.
- Pantoprazol 40mg, 1 time a day, 1 tablet.
- Amlodipine 5mg, 2 times a day, 1 capsule.
- Tradonal 50mg, 3 times a day, 1 tablet.
- Paracetamol 1000mg, 4 times day, 1 tablet.
- Acetylsalycylacid 80mg, 1 time a day, 1 tablet.
- Atorvastatine 80mg, 1 time day, 1 tablet (6 pm).
- Gliquidon 30mg, 3 times day, 1 tablet.
- Glurenorm 30mg, 3 times a day, 1 tablet.
- Trajenta 5mg, 1 time a day, 1 tablet.

They also inserted a needle in the right side of my neck trough which they were injecting blood pressure regulating medicine and controlling the blood flow directly in my Aorta.

I had so many tubes and cables attached to my body that I could hardly move.

After the speedy recovery of the surgery, this was an unexpected blow in my face.

How would I explain this to my daughter?

How will she react when she will know that we are not ready to leave for Thailand?

A "selfie" at the ICU, ready to sent to my daughter.

But that was only the tip of the ice mountain.

In an X-Ray, they discovered what could be "a possible abcation at the height of caecum bottom", may be secondary inflammation due by "Morbus Crohn".

They also detected "a post-operative deterioration of renal function of the left kidney."

In the morning of 2 October, I tried to call my brother to inform him about the bad news but I wasn’t able to say a word.

The unbearable pain from the last few days, the bad mood of my brother since our arrival, the worries about what might be happening to my daughter was asking his toll now.

Calling my brother from the ICU.

Later that day, my brother and his wife came to visit me at the Intensive Care Unit.

For that occasion, the nurses had put me in a chair.

But due to the lots of cables and tubes I was hanging on (and the worst of all was the tube in my neck) I was not able to move or talk.

Every movement or try to talk was very painful.

The allowed visit time was very short (30 minutes) and I could not explain to my brother how I felt about this situation.

The next day, I received a message from my brother telling me that I did not have to worry about the situation.

I send a message back, telling him that I hope that my daughter will accept the situation and don’t put in her head.

Little did I know that in the 3 days that I was transferred to the Intensive Care Department the life of me and my daughter would be shattered to dust completely by my brother and his wife.

His words, “we had a busy day”; “We went to different places to legitimize the stay of my daughter”; “We visited a school”; “Mina started to teach my daughter the Dutch language”; Etc., should have ring a bell to me.

But I was to sedated by the drugs to suspect anything.

My worst nightmare was in preparation by my brother and his wife.

The words “I notice that you are worried about your stay with us, DO NOT DO, first heal and then we will evaluate, so as long as you are not healthy you and Samui are VERY welcome, all rest now but well and do nothing to make you nervous.” were the biggest lie I could ever imagine.

On 3 October I was released from Intensive Care and brought back to my room.

But still under heavy medication and sedatifs to control the high blood pressure and the infection.

The days passed by and I started again to do some Physio-Therapy.

Learning to walk again and to do some stairs.

Although, the Physio-Therapy was very limited and the doctors had given orders to watch continuously my blood pressure.

If my blood pressure would go up to 120, all exercises needed to be stop immediately.

In this condition, barely able to walk 20 meters, I could forget to take a trip back to Thailand.

At least, I was out of the Intensive Care Unit and back into my room where I could see my daughter back and try to get better.

But the next days, my daughter was almost never visiting me.

When I called her, or send a message, the reply was always “I have very little time” or “battery of my phone is flat”.

I send her “Good night” and “Good morning” messages like we used too.

Sometimes I got a response, but very short.

Not like we used to do.

On Saturday, 6 October, I send a message to my daughter asking to bring the small scissor that I used to trim my moustache in the hope to see her.

But it was my brother who came to bring the small scissor.

My daughter was at home making home work.

Lucky for me, I had my friends who come to visit me almost every day.

Irene Cebulski was one of my good friends which I know already 35 years and who came to visit me many times.

The daughter of my brother, Inge, who was working at the ZOL, was coming to visit me almost every day.

But, because my brother had "banned" her out of his life, I needed to call her or send her a message wither she could visit me or not.

It was like a daily routine, the “level crossing guard” regulating traffic to my room at the hospital.

“Is my father there?” was the daily question from Inge.

Many times asking if "Diepenbeek" was there, referring to her father and his wife.

This was what staying at the hospital, fresh from surgery and planning visits looks like.

My brother was in a fight with almost everybody and had almost no contact with his family6.

Most people who had the “pleasure” to meet my brother had problems with his attitude.

Like this Email from the director of the OCJ, Mr. Brummans Luc, in 2019.

My brother blamed Inge, his oldest daughter, for the suicide of his eldest son, Kim.

Although everybody knew very well that it was not because of Inge that Kim committed suicide but because of Luis, his father.

He blamed Inge also for her life style when she was young (drug addiction?) and blamed a car accident for her Epilepsy while it was well known that Inge’s Epilepsy was hereditary and our youngest brother Manuel died also from Epilepsy in 2005.

Luis had a very “bossy” mood and was very aggressive when things went not his way.

On Wednesday, 10 October, I send again an SMS to my daughter, wishing her a good night.

But again without response.

Anyhow, I was expecting to be released from the hospital on 12 October and I was hoping to see my daughter back on that occasion.