by Karin Aharon
“I can’t believe you had to do that for me,” she said with her eyes shut. “I was always afraid of getting old. I didn’t want to become a burden on anyone. I didn’t want anyone changing my diaper or cleaning after me like a baby.”
“Nonsense, mom. You’re just sick. It happens.”
“No, it doesn’t just happen. On the one hand, I know I won’t get old, and on the other, I’m already at the diaper stage. It’s a lose-lose situation.”
“You didn’t lose anything,” I lied through my teeth, “when you feel better, you won’t need any help. When are you having the X-ray?”
“I don’t know.”
Gabi came back with a bottle of water for me, and stood quietly by the bed.
“You really didn’t have to come. We’ll have the X-ray and then go back home. We’ll just see if she broke anything.” He said after a few moments.
“I’ll stay a little longer, and then go back to the office, don’t worry. I have an important meeting at 3 P.M.”
“As you wish,” mom said with her eyes closed, she looked in pain, or nauseous, or both.
“Caterina!” someone yelled, with a heavy accent.
“Here!” mom raised her hand like a little schoolgirl and Gabi pulled the stretcher into the X-ray room.
After the exam, mom was back in the stretcher, that was placed in the hall, and again waited for the doctor. I left them at 2:30, and went back to the office in despair.
***
Everyone was already sitting in the tiny conference room, but there was one spot left by the door. I sat down and took out my phone to silence it, but even before I could put it back in my pocket, I saw I had received a text.
“The doctor said she didn’t break anything. They’re taking her to do a head CT, because she’s throwing up. They want to check if she had a concussion.” That was one of the longest texts Gabi has ever sent me.
“OK, keep me posted,” I replied and put the phone back in my jacket pocket.
“Is there someone who isn’t planning on taking time off this month?” Alice opened the meeting. No one raised her hand.
“So, let’s go one-by-one and see when each of you is taking time off so we can find the problematic days.” There was a calendar on the screen and each read her vacation days to Dina, who added them to the calendar.
I kept checking my phone every minute, to see if there were any new text, but there were none.
I was trying to be the bigger person, and volunteered to come in for a few days during the last week of the month. I obviously didn’t tell them that after being at home with the kids for a week and a half, I would probably prefer being in the office and resting. Michael can handle them alone for a few days.
After the meeting I called Gabi. “They’re letting us go home, but they did the CT and they found a fluid buildup in her head.”
“What? What made that happen?”
“Probably the cancer. I don’t completely get it, but the doctor said it explains everything that’s been going on.”
“Her falling?”
“Not just. Also, what she did with the remote. It hurt her cognitive abilities.” I heard everyone leaving and the office slowly emptying.
“So, what now?”
“Dr. Bloom said that there’s nothing we can do in her case.”
I was still hoping that the doctors had some sort of solution. Another way of buying some more time with mom. I asked Gabi what do we do.
“Nothing,” he answered quietly, “we wait.”
“Wait for what?” I insisted.
“The end.”
When I heard his answer, I closed my eyes and felt everything getting dark around me. I sat down (or perhaps crashed) on the chair. I tried breathing but I felt a huge stone weighing my chest down. The office was empty and I could only hear the vacuum cleaner in the background.
“I have to go home. We’ll talk in the evening. I’ll try coming over.”
“OK”
I took my purse and left. Even though it was still light outside, I felt as if I was walking through mist. I didn’t know how I would handle the kids at home. The only thing I wanted to do was get into bed, hide under the blanket and never come out. I don’t even remember the way back home, only that I found myself standing at the front door, breathing deeply and trying to muster the strength to face the world. Ariel’s loud screams pulled me back to reality. I was so scared that I ran inside and towards the direction of her screaming.
“What happened?” I asked Natalie who was holding Romy in her arms. Adam and Ariel were sitting on the sofa that was once white, and watching some kids’ show.
“A terrible disaster,” she smiled, “Adam changed the channel while she was watching a movie.”
“Can you stay a bit longer today? I have to make a phone call.”
“No problem. Until when?”
“I don’t know. About an hour?”
Natalie checked her phone for the time and replied, “cool”.
I went upstairs and called Jonathan. We agreed before that we would keep each other posted, and sadly, this time, I had something new to tell him. I knew he had an exam this afternoon and was hoping he was done by now.
“Hi,” I said quietly.
“Hi,” hearing his voice, I realized Gabi had already spoken to him.
“Things aren’t good. When are you coming?” I looked at myself in the bedroom mirror. You could see the sadness on my face.
“I’ll try coming tomorrow for a visit.”
“Good, will you talk to Tommy?” Tommy had recently become more reserved and introverted. He would only come out of his shell to lash out at everyone. Only Jonathan could get to him.
“Yes,” he replied, but unenthusiastically.
“Thank you.”
We both fell silent. Frankly, there was nothing left to say. The battle was over, there were no other moves left to play.
I hung up and lay in bed. I heard the kids talking, shouting, fighting and playing. I didn’t know what I was supposed to tell them. I tried picturing the day after. The day she would no longer be with us. “Gone”, as people put it lightly. I tried imagining how I would feel, but couldn’t. It was beyond comprehension.
After half an hour I went downstairs and asked Natalie to come with me to the kitchen. Romy came with us and I sat her down by the table with a biscuit.
“My mom isn’t doing too well. I’m going to need your help even more in the next few weeks.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Natalie said and hugged me, almost making me cry the tears I was holding in.
“Thank you. I’ll go over the schedule and check when I need your help. I’ll send you a text with all the information, but there might be other unexcepted days.”
“Sure, honey, anything you need, I’m here. They can come over to my place, don’t worry.”
“Thank you, sweetie.” I reached for my purse to pay her.
Natalie said goodbye to the kids and left.
I decided it was time to call Michael, but he sent me to voice mail and texted me “sorry, I can’t talk right now.” If I had a dime for every time he texted me these words, I could have paid an au-pair.
Chapter 58
Dr. Friedenson looked just like he did in all the morning talks shows he appeared on. He was short and sturdy, had a pleasant smile and plenty of patience. I also saw him at the Foundation symposium conference, but this was the first time we spoke.
“How can I help you, Shirley?” he asked when I sat in front of him in the medical center.
“I’m a BRCA1 carrier and I would like to have a preventive breast amputation. Since you’re an onco-genetic expert, I need a letter from you.” I handed him my insurance member card and he scanned it. I wonder what else my file says about me.
“Can you tell me a bit more about y
our family history. Who got sick?”
“My mom got ovarian cancer when she was 50 years old. That’s how we found out the gene was in the family. It turns out it came from her father, because her cousins are also carriers.”
“OK, I’m not supposed to tell whether you should have the surgery or not, just confirm that you qualify for the surgery because you’re a carrier,” he said with formality while he filled out the form. Then he added with a quiet smile, “but between you and I, you’re doing the right thing.”
I stared at the window while he kept filling out the form. I wonder what would have happened if mom would have asked him rather than that idiot physician who told her the gene doesn’t pass on from the father’s side. Maybe we would have spent the summer having a family vacation. The sound of his stamp clicking pulled me back to reality.
“And how’s your mother?” he asked.
“Not so well. The cancer has spread to her spine and she was told there’s increased pressure on her brain caused by a fluid buildup.” I hoped I was using the right terminology because I didn’t want to sound ridiculous.
“I’m sorry to hear that. It sounds like these are the last weeks.”
“Really?” Even though I assumed we didn’t have much more time; I didn’t expect it to be weeks.
“Spinal cancer cells prevent CFS absorption, which is the spinal liquid. It causes pressure on the brain that eventually… you understand?”
“Yes,” I replied quietly, “I think I understand. There is really noting that can be done?”
“Now you only need to make sure that she isn’t suffering. That’s the only thing you can do for her. Good luck with the surgery,” he said quietly and gave me all the signed forms. I left the room and felt that I could barely drag myself back to the car. His sentence rang through my head, over and over again – “last weeks.” Weeks?
***
The next day I went to visit mom the first chance I had. The word “weeks” wouldn’t stop ringing in my head, and I decided I should spend every moment I had with her.
“I’m OK,” she said and smiled, but didn’t really look at me. She still had that different look in her eyes. A look of someone who doesn’t quite understand what’s going on. Someone who has no worries. That smiling look wasn’t my mother’s look.
“Good,” I took off my flip flops and lied beside her. I rested my head on her, and we stayed there together watching a movie.
“What movie is that?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I think she’s in love with him.” She pointed at the screen.
“OK. When did the movie start?” I said just to keep the conversation going. She didn’t initiate any conversation but at least she replied.
“I don’t know.”
I kept lying next to her quietly. “Weeks” I thought and a tear made its way. Mom didn’t notice because she kept staring at the TV and my head rested on her. She didn’t say a word. The only thing that crossed my mind was that this may be the last time we watch TV together.
“I decided to have the surgery after the holidays,” I said to her, “do you remember I told you?”
“Yes,” she replied but didn’t say anything else.
“Maybe I could bring Romy over tomorrow?” Only Romy could come visit, because I didn’t want the older ones to see mom in this condition, “I’ll call you in the morning and you’ll tell me when to come?”
“OK.”
We stayed like that for an hour. I asked something every now and then, but didn’t know whether what she was saying was true. I knew my mother was somewhere in there, but the woman talking to me wasn’t her exactly. It was so strange.
“She’s not herself,” I told Gabi when I met him the living room, “she’s really not herself.”
“I know, it’s getting worse by the day.”
“She barely talks to me.”
“Julie was actually here today, and they spoke. Your dad also sat here for two hours.”
“Really?” I didn’t know what surprised me more. The fact that she had a normal communication with someone else or that my dad was here for a whole two hours.
“Yes, we sat in the room and spoke. Mom was relatively fine.” He lifted his gaze but wouldn’t look at me.
I tried thinking whether I should tell him and then decided I should. “Yesterday, I saw a doctor about the surgery and told him about mom. He said he thinks these are her last weeks.”
“Maybe it’s time to tell Johnny to come to Israel,” Gabi said quietly and kept staring at an unknown spot.
“I think he should come as soon as possible, while she’s still communicative.”
“Let’s call him. It’s noon there now.” Gabi brought mom’s phone. She couldn’t use it anymore.
Jonny answered after two rings and Gabi put the call on speaker so the three of us could speak. It was one of the hardest conversations I ever had. Even though it was Gabi who mostly did the talking, hearing Johnny cry made me cry too. Johnny promised to book the first flight to Israel and come.
I hoped he would make it on time.
Chapter 59
“Mom… mom… mom…” I heard in my sleep. I opened my eyes and Ariel was standing beside me, gawking at me, wide-eyed, “can I have a snack pack?”
“Yes,” I said and shut my eyes again. Then I jumped up and checked the time. I couldn’t believe they let me sleep until 8:30 A.M. I looked to my side and saw Michael had gotten up – that explains it.
I checked my phone. There weren’t any new messages and no missed calls. It was too early to call mom. I tried going back to sleep but couldn’t.
I waited until 10 A.M. and then called mom. She didn’t answer but I expected it. She hasn’t answered her phone in a week, simply because she couldn’t. Sometimes, she wouldn’t even realize it was ringing. I called their home and someone, who sounded like Gabi before his morning coffee, answered.
“Can you ask mom if I can come now with Romy?” I asked, “I spoke to her about it yesterday.”
“Cathy, can Shirley come over now?” I heard him asking in the background, but I didn’t hear her answer.
“She says that you should come later because she’s taking a shower. June is helping her but it takes a while. Try calling again later.” Gabi didn’t wait for my answer and hung up. The heat was terrible outside and I decided it was best that we stay home. The swimming pool in the yard, popsicles (which were in fact frozen grape juice with a spoon stuck in them) and a Disney movie (with lots of popcorn) did the trick.
I called again at noontime. Gabi said he’s going out to buy something and mom went in to rest, so I could come over later, in the afternoon. When Romy fell asleep, I sent Michael with the older ones to the mall, where they could blow out some steam in a cool and distant place. I went into bed and fell asleep in mere seconds. I wish I would fall asleep at night this easily.
“We’re on our way to the hospital,” Gabi said when I answered the phone in my sleep.
“What?” I wasn’t sure whether it was yet another horrific dream or reality.
“Mom lost conscious when I wasn’t here. June didn’t realize what was going on and we called an ambulance only when I got home. They left and I’m on the way in my car. Will you call Jonathan?”
“Sure, I’ll be right there.”
I called Jonathan and immediately left for the hospital.
***
I was once again, at the ER, on a Saturday. I was once again, looking for mom from one bed to the next. I was once again chasing doctors to come and take another look. But this time, it was different. Mom wasn’t all there. That is, her body was there, but she was unconscious.
Gabi stood next to her in despair.
“June thought she was resting, so she didn’t call me,” he said again, but we both knew it didn’t matter anymore.
I caressed mo
m and kissed her. I could see she was wearing all her jewelry.
I took off the necklace her mother gave her, and wore it. I put grandma’s wedding ring on my finger, and also the ring she received from her old aunt. With every piece I took, I felt heavier and heavier, and terribly guilty. As if I was robbing her from who she was. But my fear that someone would steal them, was greater than my guilt.
“Do you know that in the morning, she asked June to get her dressed for work? June kept telling her it’s Saturday, but she forgot.” Gabi caressed mom’s head and then held her hand.
Every now and then, a doctor would come to check mom, but they didn’t have much to say except that she was in a coma. Jonathan came from Jerusalem with Maya, his new girlfriend, Tommy came too. This time we knew it was mandatory, and everyone had to come.
We passed the time crying (but not in front of Gabi, so as not to irritate him), laughing (Jonathan managed being witty and funny even in situations like these) and eating snacks (that was the only thing we could get from the vending machines).
While we sat outside with our bag of potato chips, Gabi asked me to join him inside.
“It’s a good thing we called Johnny.” I sat next to mom on the only chair we could find in the ER, “maybe we should let him know things got worse?”
“I’ll send him an email later; we need to think what we’re going to do.” Gabi paced back and forth by the bed.
“About what?”
“Mom has signed a living will. I don’t know whether I should show it to the doctors.”
“Why shouldn’t you if that’s what she wanted?”
“Because then, they might not treat her as well.” Gabi stood on the other side of the bed and held mom’s hand.
“Do you think there’s anything they can do?” I whispered, because mom might still be able to hear.
“I don’t know. But if there is, I want them to do anything they can.”
“So, we can wait with the document and see what happens,” I said. I didn’t believe there was still hope for improvement, but I didn’t want to bring Gabi down more than he already was.
“OK,” it seemed this decision reassured him a bit.
