Chapter 2

Nederlands
Chapter 2. Operations.

According to my passport, I am born at the end of the Second World War on 19 February 1944 in Amsterdam. In that dark winter was no food. We were eating tulip-bulbs.
I have all reasons to doubt regarding my birth date.
I have been sick approximately fourteen years. I did not worry about this. My life was directed to this path. Now, when I am 62 years old, and very healthy, I ask myself why this all was happening. Many events are coming back into my very strong memory.
I have travelled around the world. I have been in many countries.
Calling back my memories by writing this book is the most beautiful adventure of my life.

My family told me that I could walk hardly before I was six years old. The bones of my legs grew more rapidly as my muscles. At that age, I have been operated twice in a well-known Catholic hospital in Amsterdam. Afterwards I have had tree times in succession a double pneumonia. After those operations and infections, my parents were moved to ’s-Hertogenbosch, in the south of The Netherlands. In this city, I went for the first time to the primary school. In the first class, I have walked a complete year with clamps and high shoes. At age of eighteen years old, I have had an operation on my right foot. The large toe of my right foot had grown entirely under my other toes.
In the last year of secondary school, I got attacks of heavy pains in my abdomen. In the middle of in the night, I awoke on my own crying. The doctors could not make the right diagnose. The days after such an attack I could not function well.
Ten years later, I did let make on my request a research at a radiologist. The same day I admit in a hospital in Amsterdam. They told me that the connection between my linker kidney and bladder, the ureter, had grown deformed, and that an emergency operation was necessary.
It lasted years before I had recovered of this operation and could function in a normal way. Afterwards I got three inguinal hernias, nearly in succession. Serious enough that an operation was necessary.
The primary school was boaring. A waste of time. I was aware that I understood everything. It was not necessary to explain anything to me.
I had an enormous passion in drawing geometrical lines on pavement flags. The other children used these lines eager for limp, step and jump games. At playing soccer on the street, I was keeper, because I could not run rapidly in behalf of my strange feet. In the winter, I was keeper at ice hockey, because I could only skate back.
On the secondary school, I excelled in mathematics. Languages I have later learned in bed of foreign girlfriends.
My study economics at the university was a failure. I did not make any progress and was only a kind of a bull in the nightlife from Amsterdam. Probable as a compensation of the five suffocating years at the boarding school.
My mother died suddenly when I was ten years old. It is very difficult to remind me how she was looking. However, I have still a good picture in my mind when she was laid out in the mourning chamber of the hospital.
I was scared. Her body was entirely blue.
She was a lady from the south of The Netherlands, even with a French surname, very common near the boarder of Belgium. She was the only child of a well-to-do textile manufacturer who finally was gone downhill due to a sickness in the eyes. The doctors had taken his eyes from his eye funds to prevent more damage. Her mother was, like my mother, depressive. The longest senses existed out of three words. In addition, each succeeding sense, an other subject was started. Her father did not say a word. The whole day he was sitting on his chair on rubber ring. Waiting for the moment to die. Thirty years long.
My father worked at food factory as a tax lawyer. The parents of my father lived after their retirement in a city nearby. My grandfather was a former director of the post office.
My brother was, when he was still young, frequently very aggressive . These behaviours had sometimes a very violent character. At that moment, I had to look for a place to shelter. I was always living with the possibility of a suddenly beat to death. In spite of that, my brother was very timid, shy, and walked with a bent back. His head hidden in far pulled up shoulders.

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