This week’s Sunday Edition is a bit different. An autumn afternoon in Bosnia, some news about my health, a little break from podcasting, and why I’m feeling surprisingly positive about it all.
The University Clinical Centre, Banja Luka
Hello from Bosnia!
Well, it’s Friday afternoon as I’m sitting here putting this together, and outside the weather is, quite frankly, miserable. Grey skies, damp, overcast, and very, very autumnal. There are leaves absolutely everywhere. And I mean everywhere.
Tamara’s father is doing his level best to collect them all up, and I suspect at some point there’ll be a bonfire involved. Personally, I’d just leave them where they are. From what I understand, fallen leaves are actually rather good for the soil. They break down, return nutrients to the earth and provide a bit of shelter for all sorts of little creatures.
But there you go. I’m not going to win that particular argument!
Anyway, enough about the leaves.
A Bit of Personal News
I wanted to share something with you this week because it’s going to affect what I’m doing over the next few weeks, and possibly a little longer.
I’m going into hospital.
In fact, by the time you read this, I’ll be getting pretty close to the date of my operation.
I’ve been backwards and forwards having blood tests and various other checks. Another test on Monday, another one on Wednesday, and then, sometime after that, my consultant will be operating on me.
I’m having my right kidney removed, along with the ureter, which is the tube connecting the kidney to the bladder. There you go. I’ve said it.
I’m not going to go into all the medical details because, well, I don’t really think there’s much point. Suffice to say, it’s a major operation. Not keyhole surgery either, but a traditional open operation.
The consultant reckons I’ll be in hospital for around five days, give or take, and then I’ll be coming home to recover. And that recovery is going to take a little while.
From what I understand, we’re talking about ten to twelve weeks before I’m properly back to something approaching normal. I’ll be walking, gradually building up my strength, and getting used to life with just one kidney.
And of course, millions of people around the world live perfectly normal lives with one kidney.
So I’m hardly unique!
Am I Worried?
Well, strangely enough, no. And I don’t say that flippantly.
I’m certainly not brushing it aside or pretending it’s nothing. In fact, the more I’ve thought about it over the last few days, the more I’ve realised just how big an operation this actually is. I’ve done a bit of reading.
My sister, bless her, told me in no uncertain terms not to start doom scrolling through medical websites. And she’s probably right. But I’m naturally curious. Always have been. And when somebody tells me they’re going to remove an organ from my body, I do tend to want to know a little bit about what’s involved!
Curiosity killed the cat, allegedly.
But I feel remarkably positive about the whole thing.
I have a consultant here in Banja Luka who has been looking after me for some time, and I have confidence in him.
I know I’ll go to sleep, wake up afterwards feeling pretty sore, and discover that I’m a little bit lighter than I was before. And instead of firing on two cylinders, I’ll be firing on one. Not quite sure that’s how kidneys work, but you get the idea.
And Then There’s Tamara
This is where I realise just how fortunate I am.
While I’m in hospital at the University Clinical Centre in Banja Luka, Tamara is going to stay at her parents’ flat in the city. It’s only about ten minutes from the hospital.
Ten minutes!
Which means she’ll be able to visit me every day, bring me anything I need, and generally keep an eye on me. And when I’m discharged, she’ll bring me home and help look after me while I recover.
I’m a fairly independent sort of chap. Always have been. I like doing things for myself and I’m not particularly good at sitting around being looked after. But sometimes you just have to accept that you need a bit of help. And having somebody like Tamara alongside me through all of this is something I don’t take for granted.
Not for one minute. I’m very, very lucky.
So What Happens to the Podcast?
Well, this is where a little bit of forward planning comes in.
I’ve decided to take a break from actually producing new podcast episodes while I recover. Not from podcasting altogether, mind you.
I’ve been busy behind the scenes scheduling a few episodes in advance so that things can carry on ticking over without me having to sit at a microphone, edit audio, write show notes and generally spend hours in front of the computer.
And I think that’s probably quite sensible. Tamara reckons that after a week I’ll probably be sitting at my desk again. She may well be right.
But just because I can do something doesn’t necessarily mean I should.
For once, I’m going to give myself permission to take some proper time out.
I’ve scheduled four episodes, which will take us through to the beginning of December. And I’m rather pleased with what’s coming.
A Young Bosnian Voice
This coming Tuesday’s podcast is one I’ve particularly enjoyed putting together.
I sat down recently with a 13-year-old Bosnian boy called Anes. And what a remarkable young chap he is. His English is phenomenal, for a start.
But what interested me wasn’t simply his command of the language. I wanted to hear what somebody of his age thinks about Bosnia and Herzegovina. His country. His future. The place he’s growing up in.
We hear an awful lot about Bosnia from politicians, commentators, journalists, academics and, yes, people like me. But how often do we actually stop and listen to the younger generation? Not very often, I suspect. So I gave Anes the microphone and let him talk.
And I think you’ll enjoy hearing what he has to say.
Now, before anybody starts waving their arms around asking why on earth I’m putting a conversation with a 13-year-old online, let me reassure you. I have his parents’ permission.
The episode goes out officially on Tuesday, 10 November.
But I’ve got a little treat for you.
If you’re reading this Sunday Edition, you can listen to it early.
I’ve put a link just below this section which will take you to the episode on my website. So you’re getting it a couple of days before everybody else. How’s that for looking after my Sunday readers?
A Little Trip Into the Archives
After Tuesday’s episode, we’re going to revisit a few stories from the podcast archive.
I’ve chosen three that I particularly enjoyed making, and which I think deserve another listen. We’ll be going back under the apple trees here in Bosnia, revisiting the extraordinary story of the Sarajevo Haggadah, and heading high into the mountains to meet the women shepherds of Lukomir.
Three very different stories.
But all, in their own way, about this fascinating country that I’ve come to call home. They’ll appear automatically over the following three weeks, so you won’t need to do anything different. Just carry on listening as normal.
And hopefully, by the time we’ve reached December, I’ll be feeling considerably better and perhaps thinking about getting back behind the microphone.
We’ll see.
No promises!
What About This Sunday Edition?
Now, this is something I’d really like to keep going. I enjoy writing these Sunday letters.
Actually, I enjoy the whole process of sitting down and telling you what’s been happening here, whether it’s something rather ordinary from village life, a trip into the mountains, or just a few thoughts that have been rattling around in my head.
And I especially enjoy reading your replies.
A couple of weekends ago, when I was away with the hiking club in the mountains near Kakanj and Zenica, I tried putting together the whole newsletter using nothing more than the Substack app on my phone. And would you believe it, it worked!
The formatting came out properly, everything appeared where it should, and the only thing I couldn’t manage was recording the audio version. Which isn’t exactly the end of the world.
So I’m thinking that, while I’m recovering, I might just be able to keep these Sunday Editions going from my phone.
Perhaps even from my hospital bed. Although I suspect there may be a few days when the last thing I want to do is look at a screen.
And that’s fine too. I’m not going to put myself under any pressure.
If there’s a Sunday Edition, there’ll be one. If there isn’t, well, you’ll know why.
A Little Time for Myself
I was thinking about Substack Notes as well. Should I carry on posting little updates? Photographs? Bits and pieces from the hospital? Well, maybe.
But let’s face it, there’s only so many photographs of a hospital bed that anybody wants to see. Including me! And I think, for once, I’m going to be a little bit selfish. I’m going to have some time for myself.
I’ve got audiobooks to listen to, music playlists that I’ve been meaning to catch up with, and a rather nice pair of headphones. So perhaps I’ll just lie back, listen to something interesting, and let the world carry on without me for a little while.
Especially when you’ve spent most of your life feeling that you ought to be doing something.Maybe this is an opportunity to learn how to do a little less.
Before I Go
I just wanted to say thank you. There are a few hundred of you now who receive these Sunday letters, and I’m genuinely grateful that you take the time to open them and read what I’ve been up to. It means a lot. Especially as most of what I write about is fairly ordinary stuff.
Life in a Bosnian village. A walk somewhere. A conversation with somebody. The changing seasons. And now, apparently, the occasional missing kidney!
It’s completely free. No payments, no hidden catches, nothing like that. Just a letter from me, here in Bosnia, every Sunday. Or most Sundays, anyway. And if you’re already a subscriber, thank you for sticking around.
I love reading your comments, and I do my best to reply to every one of them. There’s also the option to send me a private message if you’d rather do that.
So that’s it from me for this week. A rather different Sunday Edition, I know.
But I wanted to be open with you about what’s happening, rather than simply disappear for a few weeks and leave you wondering where I’d gone. I’m feeling remarkably buoyant about everything at the moment. I know there’ll be some uncomfortable days ahead, and I’m under no illusions about that.
But I’ve got good people around me, a lovely wife who’s going to make sure I behave myself, and a home in the Bosnian countryside to come back to. And frankly, that’s not a bad position to be in, is it? With a bit of luck, next Sunday’s letter might even come to you from a hospital bed in Banja Luka.
We’ll see how things go. Until then, stay safe wherever you are in the world.
And thank you, as always, for being here.
David
From a rather damp and leaf-covered corner of Bosnia and Herzegovina.
