I’m a late bloomer. I achieved very little in the first 21 years of my life. Then something clicked, and since then I’ve never really stopped studying. I took courses in healthcare, business administration and computer science. I completed reserve officer training at the Royal Military Academy (KMA) and worked for a few years in an ambulance control centre. There, I became more and more involved with IT and eventually decided to make the switch. I spent the rest of my career as a consultant and manager in IT, most recently as Chief Information Officer at NATO in Brunssum. And now I’m going back to university in Maastricht, and writing about the experience for the Observant website (in Dutch).
My optimism is indestructible. In 2014, I was bitten by a tick. At first, I hardly noticed anything, and then it was too late – I had contracted Lyme disease. It was brutal. I struggled to speak, my memory was shot, my concentration gone. I suffered excruciating headaches and joint pain so severe that it had me crawling up the stairs on my hands and knees. It took me almost nine years to recover to some extent; I’d say I’m at about thirty per cent now. From the outside you can’t tell, but if people knew what some of my days look like… I had to stop working, which left me facing two black holes: one of ill health and one of lost purpose. Work has always been central to my life. What do you do when it disappears? I dabbled in a few courses, like photography and watchmaking, but as I slowly began to feel a bit better, I wanted something bigger. And what’s bigger than a master’s degree? I’ve always been the kind of person who sees opportunities everywhere. For me, the glass is always half full.
"The bond with my mother has been growing stronger and deeper, we're finally talking about lots of things"
My childhood bedroom window looked out on… I was born in Milan, but I didn’t grow up there. When my parents got married in 1966, the housing shortage in Limburg was as bad as it is now. Nothing was available. My father was offered a job in Italy with a Dutch accountancy firm, so off they went. Then I was born, and my parents soon decided they wanted me to grow up in the Netherlands. During my primary school years, we lived close to the Dommel, a small river. If I looked out of the window at a certain angle, I could see the fields and the water. It was a lovely place to grow up.
I tell my mother everything. Our relationship is still evolving. My father passed away four years ago; he spent the last three years of his life in a wheelchair in a nursing home. During that time, he and I learnt more about each other than in the fifty years before. I’m now getting to know my mother in the same way. Our bond has been growing stronger and deeper. We’re finally talking about lots of things, not just the day-to-day.
What would you redo if you could? I’d go back to my primary school days. Back then, I was constantly being told where I was falling short or what I couldn’t do. Looking back, it was all nonsense. I refused to jump through certain hoops, and that wasn’t accepted. My school reports always said, “Louis can do it, but won’t.” It was very demotivating. If I could go back, I’d tell myself to jump through those hoops – just to make things a bit easier and get to where I wanted to be faster.
"I can be quite clear about what I want and don’t want - some people find it unsympathetic"
My partner is worth her weight in gold. More than gold. Ellen is very down-to-earth. We’ve been together for 36 years; we never wanted children. She’s the reason I saw the light at 21 and wanted to do better – to be a stable and worthy partner. We met at the Red Cross, where we both volunteered. From the moment we met, sparks flew. And that spark is still there. She takes care of me without a word of complaint.
When I look in the mirror, I see… someone who, to my eyes, is ageing rather well. When I compare myself to others, I’m not unhappy with what I see. I’ve got good genes; my father kept his looks well into later life. And I was brought up with the idea that you should always leave home looking presentable.
Who doesn’t like you? I can be quite clear about what I want and don’t want, and I don’t shy away from communicating it. That doesn’t always go down well – some people find it unsympathetic. To me, beating around the bush is unsympathetic. Just be clear and don’t string people along. But not everyone appreciates that.
"I’ve stopped looking too far ahead"
Are you happy? [Thinks] Yes. Though I do sometimes shed a tear for what I can no longer do. I took a mountaineering course once, but I’ll never climb another mountain. Physical exertion is harder now, and so is travelling long distances. When I spend too much time around other people, I get overstimulated – which will be a challenge in tutorials. But I’m grateful for what I still can do, and I won’t give up. I still see signs of progress. My life has taken some strange turns; five years ago, I’d never have imagined myself here. I’ve stopped looking too far ahead.