December 15th, 2025

Monday will mark a decisive moment: the very last operation. I must admit that, despite my optimism, a touch of nervousness has crept in. The fifteen-day delay and the potential complications are, understandably, not the kind of details one ignores. And then there is that rather unwelcome prospect: should another staphylococcal infection occur, an amputation would be unavoidable, regardless of how successful the procedure itself might be. Not exactly the kind of thought that helps one sleep soundly.

That said, when it comes to the operation itself, I remain fairly calm. I’m surrounded by a team I trust completely, and after five stays in the hospital, I know every corner of the place… at some point you practically start greeting the walls. And with Christmas approaching, I decided to treat myself to a little “reasonable luxury”: a private room, with all the comforts that come with it. My health insurance covers 2/3 of the upgrade, which certainly makes the decision easier. And if, something I sincerely hope won’t happen, I have to spend Christmas in hospital, at least it will be in a pleasant room. Until now I’ve always been lucky: quiet rooms, comfortable surroundings… Once I even had a balcony where I could take my meals, though this season won’t quite allow for that.

Meanwhile, a new project is taking shape at home. I have a fireplace, a lovely idea in theory, but its efficiency is, frankly, disappointing. Most of the heat escapes straight up the chimney, and the constant flow of fresh air prevents any real warmth from spreading through the room. So I’m considering installing a wood-burning stove. This will involve some masonry work: removing the old fireplace, preparing the space, and everything else that goes with it. The coming months will be perfect for choosing materials.

The stove itself has already been decided. I had one in a previous flat and was very pleased with it. Last week, at an exhibition, I was advised to look at the brand Hase, the Como model, clad in soapstone for excellent heat retention. This week, the masonry and painting contractor will came by to prepare a quote. In short: even while I’m immobilised, my projects remain very much in motion.

I am part of the senior hiking group from my former employer. Last month, I had the pleasure of organising a visit to the Federal Parliament, followed by a tour of Bern’s Old Town, proudly listed as a UNESCO World Heritage site. It was a day when history and architecture seemed almost eager to share their own stories with us – perhaps to compete with ours.

Last Tuesday, we met again to celebrate Christmas at Studer. After a presentation on the company’s economic situation and its latest developments, we had the opportunity to explore the new fully automated storage system. An impressive installation, and so efficient it was almost a little intimidating.

We rounded off the visit with a friendly refreshment break, giving the retirees time to exchange memories and shared stories. It’s always a highlight to revisit our collective successes, challenges – and those small episodes from working life that time has a way of turning into something far more amusing than they once were.

Before having to remain immobile for the next three to four months, I wanted to grant myself one last little freedom: a walk through the city to admire the Christmas decorations. A way of taking a deep breath before the countdown begins.

As I stepped out of my flat, I ran into my GP, whose practice happens to be in the same building. He looked at me with that particular attentiveness only truly good clinicians possess, then asked how I was feeling about yet another operation. His concern was genuinely reassuring. Empathic, attentive, and thoroughly professional, exactly the kind of doctor anyone would wish to have at their side. And between us, you don’t earn the title “Professor” for nothing.

This morning, an email arrived from Sonnenhof Hospital: they expect me on Monday at 9:15 a.m. Originally, I was supposed to be admitted on Sunday evening, as several pre-operative tests were planned. In the end, they believe they’ll have enough time to carry out the necessary lab work on Monday morning before the procedure, scheduled for 1:00 p.m.

As the day approaches, my impatience grows… and, I’ll admit, so does a hint of apprehension. After all, this will be the eighth operation since the accident nearly thirty months ago. It’s starting to make quite a chapter in my medical file, almost a novel, though unfortunately without the pleasant suspense.

The next update will therefore come directly from the hospital, most likely after the operation, which is expected to last around six hours. I’ll probably be far too groggy to write straight away; I’d rather wait until I’ve made it through the first night before continuing on my blog.

In the meantime, keep your fingers crossed for me! 😊