December 29th, 2025

After a few days of silence, it is time to pick up the thread again. The past few days have not been easy: I have not been feeling well, and, as if that were not enough, a technical issue also arose on my website. I am currently in contact with the provider to resolve the situation. Nothing dramatic, but enough to dampen enthusiasm somewhat.

24 December, the calm before the storm: The evening of 24 December was not exactly filled with euphoria. After preparing a comforting dinner, sea bass, prawns and steamed vegetables, I went to bed relatively early, unaware that the days ahead would be anything but restful.

25 December: Christmas in hospital. At 6.45 in the morning, Deniz accompanies me to hospital. Everything happens very quickly: first settling into the room, then straight to the pre-operative area. Being Christmas Day, staffing levels are reduced. Deniz offers some unexpected assistance and helps push my bed towards the operating theatre, where we part ways.

With a smile, the anaesthetic nurse asks whether Deniz is my son 😊. I explain our connection, and then the serious preparations begin. An intravenous line is inserted, followed by a spinal anaesthetic, which works perfectly on the first attempt. Shortly afterwards, I find myself in the operating theatre, for the ninth operation.

Propofol takes effect rapidly. Around 45 minutes later, I wake up while the dressing is still being applied. Professor Krause informs me that the irrigation and cleaning of the wound have gone very well. I am then transferred to the Intermediate Care Unit (IMC). In the neighbouring cubicle, a completely confused patient tells stories that are as improbable as they are entertaining, an unexpected interlude.

About an hour later, I am taken back to my room. Until now, I had usually experienced only mild pain after surgery. This time, it is different: the pain is more intense, and a general feeling of unwellness sets in. The medication provides only limited relief. Meanwhile, Deniz celebrates Christmas with my mother, who would otherwise have been alone. Roast duck is on the menu. Early in the afternoon, he comes to visit me. When I ask how the duck was, he avoids answering. As soon as I press the point, the door opens: my mother, my cousin Peter and his wife Jeanine enter the room. A very warm and welcome visit. My mother then explains that the duck must have had a very long flight before landing in the oven, the meat was, diplomatically speaking, exceptionally firm.

Towards the evening, the pain increases and is accompanied by fever. A blood test is required. As often happens after antibiotic infusions, my veins retreat and become difficult to find. After several attempts, a nurse finally manages to take blood.The night is restless, with persistent pain. However, an additional medication eventually takes effect, allowing me to sleep.

26 December: concerns and investigations. The next day, I still feel feverish and have no appetite. While pouring myself a cup of tea, a simple twisting movement suddenly triggers a sharp pain in my foot, a very unpleasant sensation. The nursing staff are informed, and an X-ray is arranged. Later in the afternoon, Deniz visits again, bringing flowers and chocolates, despite my very clear request that he come empty-handed. To investigate the fever spikes (up to 38.9 °C), two sets of blood cultures are ordered.

Finding a vein becomes a real test of patience. After five unsuccessful attempts, the nurses give up. Deniz, who has been observing everything, cannot understand either my patience or why the anaesthesia team was not called in earlier. He eventually has to leave to catch his train to Olten.I am then transferred to the observation unit. An anaesthetist uses an ultrasound device to locate a vein. After several attempts, blood finally flows, but too slowly. Only after three punctures is enough blood obtained for a usable sample. There is a reason why a central venous catheter (CVC) had been required during previous procedures.

The following night is very difficult: pain, fever and shivering. Sunday follows a similar pattern, with heavy sweating and further fever spikes. In the evening, the doctor on duty prescribes additional medication. I sleep better and wake up on Monday morning in a soaked bed, but overall, I feel noticeably better.

Professor Krause comes with his assistant to change the dressing. The results of the blood cultures are not yet available, but he anticipates a possible discharge, depending on the findings. When I ask, he confirms that he has not yet reviewed the X-rays. Shortly afterwards, Dr Flückiger comes by to ask how I am doing, a gesture I very much appreciate. At last, I am able to take a shower: a small luxury with a big impact.

Then, unexpectedly, Professor Krause returns, accompanied by Dr Huber (who was present during the operation on the 15th) and Dr Grob. Such a combined presence is rarely coincidental. The message follows: one good piece of news and one bad.The good news: the blood cultures are negative. The bad news: the acute pain is due to insufficient stability of the tibia. More specifically, a weakness has been identified in the area of the upper screw. The consequence is clear: I am allowed to go home, but I will return on 5 January for another procedure. A plate will be fixed along the tibia to improve the stability of the bone. This brings us to operation number ten, a relatively straightforward procedure intended to prevent future complications.

Conclusion: I experience ups and downs, but I remain confident. This next operation should significantly improve the long-term stability of my foot. And with a bit of luck, we may soon attempt cooking a duck again, this time, hopefully, a much more tender one.