Morten at the Irish pub…
I had a long talk on the phone, first with Peter’s wife, and then with Peter. They were both really, really depressed, and it took one hour of hard work to make them feel better. And, as always, when I hung up the phone, I was shattered.
Peter is not well. In fact, all of his metastasis have grown considerably, despite the new medications and all the modern technology they’re using on him. He got the news two days ago. He’s devastated. All the hope he had was destroyed in an instant. He’s got tumors in his lung, his liver, his back, his hip, his sternum, and now 3 new tumors in his brain.
What can you do with that kind of news, really? What??
Nevertheless, I went to the gym, and that was good.
At 6:30 I went to Dr. Freud, and that was really good, too. I have two deals with him now: I go to the gym every day at 3PM, and I study Japanese every day from 8AM to 9AM, and next time I have to read a passage from a Japanese book to him. Structure. It’s important for me.
In the evening I went to an Irish pub where I met the husband of my niece, Morten, who happened to be in town, because he’s a violonist with the Oslo Symphonic Orchestra, and they’re on tour. We spend a lovely evening together and had lots of intense talks, he’s a really, really great guy and I like him a lot. He’s the best guy one can imagine for my niece.
