Crisis blogger Tonnie

It's Monday 11 May. After about 8 weeks of (attempts at) home education, it is time for the children to go back to school. Tension rises in the house. They're excited! I liked being at home, but being able to see friends and the teacher at school is also nice.

Due to the measures surrounding corona, my children receive half-day lessons, with half the class each time. In the morning they use emergency care in connection with our 'critical professions' and in the afternoon they are in class. Then they play outside. Despite the special situation we are in, being able to go to school on this first day already seems to give a kind of pleasant familiar rhythm.

It is 4 pm when my oldest comes home screaming in pain with a startled boyfriend by his side. His arm doesn't hang well. He launched himself; something with a hill, a step and a well. I immediately go 'on', grab some things and then end up with my son on a roller coaster of GP, emergency room, X-rays, plaster, surgeon and a lot of waiting in the hospital. At 8.30 in the evening I leave my child under anesthesia in the operating room. He is surrounded by 5 specialists hoisted in surgical clothing. They set his bone and stabilize the fracture by inserting pins. Speaking of critical professions…

A nurse takes me back to the pediatric ward. "Coffee?" she asks. With watery eyes and a sudden tiredness from the descending adrenaline, I ask her with a big wink if she doesn't just happen to have a dry white wine cold. 'No…we don't serve that here…' she smiles back sympathetically, 'but I do have coffee.'

Coffee it is.