May 27th, 2010: The Set Up

We've been in suburban New Jersey with it's bountiful strip malls and for either one day or one week now. I can't really tell, but that's precisely the magic of New Jersey, isn't it?


Leaving my life, my job, my city, my structure, my schedule, my cats and my friends all behind has stunned my system. I guess that's natural. The real challenge is that there wasn't a gradual shift: the other day, I was at home in Los Angeles and, the very next day, I'm suddenly caring for two parents all day long, sometimes in awkwardly intimate ways. It's shocking: I'm not sleeping well, I'm agitated and I'm struggling to balance helping Mom and Dad when they need it and still take care of myself. There's a learning curve here... I don't know the specifics of what they need or when they need it.


As it turns out, Mom can handle her basic needs just fine. She's just in a lot of discomfort and fatigue as a result of the radiation treatment on her upper spine that just ended. That radiation was performed for ten minutes every day for three weeks and was focused on her spine, to prevent the cancer from entering her spinal column. In other words, the core column of mom's central nervous system was radiated daily for three weeks.


Tired, you say? You have no idea.


Dad, however, requires constant attention. He needs help getting dressed and undressed, sitting down and getting up, getting into and out of the car, cutting his food, getting onto and off the toilet, being bathed and, on occasion, having his ass wiped. It is a humbling and emotional experience to have to wipe your father's ass and it forces you to realize that time and life are not forever.


Dad is like a three-year-old child: he doesn't make much sense when he talks, he loves eating dessert whenever he can get away with it, and he walks around burping and farting without thinking twice about it. His two favorite topics of discussion are what he'd like to be eating at the next meal and what just happened in the bathroom.


Because Mom is ill and in pain, her patience is thin. I understand. I don't judge her for that. When you're going through cancer treatments like radiation and chemotherapy, having to also monitor your husband of 43 years as if he's a small child grows tiring really, really fast. Not surprisingly, Mom and Dad bicker a lot and even more so when they travel and share such close quarters.


And so, today, I'd just like to start my gratitude list with the fact that while we're here in New Jersey, they actually got me my own hotel room in the hotel where we're holed up so I can have a smidgeon of privacy and downtime.


Thank you, Jesus. And that's coming from a Jew...