A Lesson on Separation

5/19/09
It was pretty slow at work today. At our weekly meeting Jenny talked about the separation of a pair of conjoined twins at RCCH. They had been with us for the last few weeks awaiting surgery. The twins are two boys joined in the abdomen area. They were separated last week and the operation went wonderfully. It was video taped and shown in one of the auditoriums. We were able to catch some of it. The twins weren’t sharing any of their organs, making the separation fairly simple (as simple as complicated operations go). The procedure lasted somewhere around 12 hours. At the meeting we discussed the services the twins would be requiring now that they were separated. The twins were conjoined for just over a year, an exceptionally long time. Not only would they be catching up on physical development (i.e. crawling, walking) but they would also be grieving the loss of one another. Jenny mentioned the importance of keeping the twins close, in the same bed if possible. The next few weeks would be spent “finding” each other again. We explored the trauma the twins were facing. For the first year of their life, they learned and experienced everything together. Their world consisted entirely of the other. This separation is similar to the loss of a limb. The grieving would be similar.

Caroline's teaching tool for the twins (blogger flipped it :P )

After work, Jamie and I took advantage of the sunny afternoon to tackle lion’s head for the 3rd time. We made it to the top in 44 minutes, a record from the 48 minutes it took the last time! On the way down we talked about relationships. The ones we’ve had and the ones we wanted. I believe if something is meant to happen, it will happen on it’s own and naturally. Otherwise, it’s just not meant to be. We talked about relationships being similar. The conversation, the intimacy, the connection, should happen naturally and effortlessly. Our conversation was interrupted by police helicopters circling the mountain. They came so close that we actually felt the wind from the propellers. We never found out what it was all about but suspected a mugger, since that is common on many of the trails. Doug told us later that the police take it really seriously because of the high tourist population. He picked us up at our place for dinner that evening. He had contacted us earlier in the week offering to show HIS side (aka the non-touristy, REAL side) of Cape Town. We had no idea where were going and looked forward to the adventure. When we got in his car he asked how we felt about going to Kalk Bay. “Kalk Bay?! Are you serious? That’s our favorite place in Cape Town!” He was delighted and we set off. He first took us by Sea Point when we told him we had been wanting to check it out. It looks gorgeous and Jamie and I made a plan to explore more on foot. Because Kalk Bay was part of our Cape Point Road Trip, it felt worlds away. It seemed like a “vacation” place and I never dreamed we’d get back there. I was elated at the thought of returning. We ended up at a trendy and casual restaurant/bar. The back of it was lined with floor to ceiling windows that looked out onto the rocky shore. I immediately suggested we sit there. With our backs against the windows, we ordered wine and a tapas appetizer. As the tide came in, the waves pounded onto the rocks making for a marvelous nightime scenery. We eventually moved to a proper table and ordered (yet another) delicious meal. We ended the night with plans for an overnight hike up Table Mountain. How could anyone refuse that?!!

Doug, Me and Jamie

Jamie’s departure has begun to sink in. I understood that my life in Cape Town, as I knew it, would be completely different. Jamie and I worked together, socialized together, planned trips together and explored this city together. Jamie’s company had become second nature. We have a remarkable relationship; one that I will miss dearly. She's like my conjoined twin, and I will have to adjust and explore my new, more personal, Cape Town.