As a recently-divorced, single mother of my 9-year old son Stefan, my world was shattered one day in 1982, by a piece of news that would overwhelm the hardiest human. My little boy had a most vicious form of Leukaemia and the prognosis did not look good. We had just moved to Hamburg and had no friends or family and I had started a new job. The diagnosis had taken a long time, during which, his condition deteriorated rapidly. The next five years revolved around the hospital bed at nights and weekends and upholding a tedious, full-time job during the day. Stefan underwent his treatments with patience, resilience and compassion for his temporary hospital friends, many of whom died. It was a solitary, demanding and fearful time with an uncertain outcome and fraught with frights for both of us.
But, within the chaos of those years, there was an underlying relief, that we had moved to Hamburg from Switzerland, to set up home and start a new life. It transpired, that the University Hospital in Hamburg was one of two main centres for children’s cancer in Europe. They had enjoyed significant success with their method of treatment as a result of extensive research and we were thrilled to discover during the 3-year treatment, that it worked in the case of Stefan. After five anxious years, it seemed that he had overcome that demon and with no guarantees, but we could look optimistically into the future.
Why did we move to Hamburg in the first place? Well, because of the man who I thought that fate had selected expressly for me. He was the charismatic, elected mayor of a small town outside Hamburg and a popular secondary schoolteacher. I will never quite grasp, how I could have uprooted us from Switzerland, and been taken in by his charm, intelligence and sense of duty. It remains a mystery to me, as to how I could have trusted a man who transmuted into the exact opposite of the stable, conscientious gentleman he portrayed, to entice me into his world. The niggling doubts were instantly dismissed in the chaos of the mammoth transfer up to Hamburg, but still I went ahead with it. His captivating veneer however, thawed before our very eyes, once my furniture was firmly established in his home. This was me – analytically cautious of risk or danger, but magnetically drawn into a life-changing move, so contrary to my nature. Nonetheless, it seems that there must have been a divine element guiding me through the risky, uncharted waters of a new relationship. In stark contrast to my own gullible instincts, I was unwittingly steered into a safer zone than I could ever have consciously organised. If Stefan had not made a full recovery, the outcome could have been substantially worse, but for the most professional medical treatment available at that time in Hamburg.
We later returned to Switzerland, and were informed by a reliable source, that this form of Leukaemia had never yet been cured in Switzerland, at the time that Stefan became ill. Who would have thought that, in a country, renowned for establishing the Red Cross and for its fiscal advantages over other countries to finance medical research and hospitals? Germany was so advanced in the treatment of child cancer and the German Red Cross had brought many infant patients across to Hamburg from behind the Iron Curtain for treatment. Unfortunately, for many of these little patients, it was too little too late.
It would seem that destiny has a far greater influence in our lives, than we choose to admit. I believed I was proficient at making life-changing decisions, but it has proven time and again, that I am simply a child of the universe – prone to stray and not as shrewd as I may think. It’s spooky to imagine that we have no control over it and we don’t even see it approaching. It probably wasn’t the first time it assumed control in my life, and indeed it wasn’t the last. Perhaps we should submit to our «gut feeling» which is urgently nudging us, to steer our decisions. It needs however, a dramatic leap of faith to concede to it and trust prevailing instincts to lead the way. The age-old adage doubtless fits the bill: if it feels wrong, it probably is wrong. It’s simply mysterious!
Photo: Pexels.com / James Wheeler