Out of nowhere

It’s Friday already.  The week is almost over.  It was my second week on trifluridine.  What a week it was.  No comparison at all with the week before.  I felt much better throughout.  I didn’t need to puke.  I didn’t spend entire days lying in bed as if I were already half dead.  I got tired by the evenings, but that seems to be the new normal now.

This was all rather lucky because Thursday was a special day.  About a month ago, Flucha floated the idea of getting married.  There was not much of a reason.  We’ve been happily living in sin for many years.  No obvious motive why we would do it now.  Yet I quickly agreed.  I don’t believe in marriage but saw the wisdom of it.  Who knows how things will develop.  Being married makes our family stronger and more secure, and will make everything else simpler and more straightforward.

Getting married in times of corona is a little different.  Currently, Switzerland allows only up to five people to hang out together indoors.  With my mom and the two mandatory witnesses, we had already reached the limit.  My father wanted to come join us despite staying home throughout the pandemic, but we had to refuse.  There was no reason to think bigger.  Instead, we thought small, as small as possible.

The smallest possible wedding entailed a couple, a city official, two witnesses, a short speech, two vows, an exchange of two rings, and a kiss.  It was over within fifteen minutes.  Flucha had put some effort into her outfit and looked truly special, like an extra from a movie depicting the glamorous 1920s.  It was easy to see a bride in her.  I had spent a day rummaging through my clothes to find some without holes or excessive scuff marks.  I think I looked quite presentable as well, though maybe not exactly like a bridegroom.

The happy couple, tightly cropped.

After the non-ceremony, held in a hall that used to be the chapel of a medieval monastery, we had a little reception at home.  Flucha had purchased Luxemburgerli for the occasion, I contributed a Crémant d’Alsace, and mom had decorated everything.  My sister had come up with a big surprise.  She had booked an alphorn player to come down from Lucerne.  He played a few songs beneath our balcony, entertaining the neighbors and surprising passers-by who couldn’t see him.

Now, with a thin gold band around my ring finger, life continues as before.  The disease is making itself known again.  Today, I feel much worse than the days before.  It seems as if the drugs have accumulated through the week.  Maybe subconsciously I pushed myself harder than I should have the first four days.  In any case, today I am deadly exhausted, at one point falling asleep on the sofa while listening to the Toten Hosen.  Tonight I will take the last dose and then enjoy 16 days of recovery.