So, I'm not sure how far I'm going to go with this post. I just came back from dropping a meal off at my friends Mike and Tina's house. Mike is dying. There - I just wrote it. No frills, no sentiment - it's just out there in black and white. He's 38. His wife, my friend Tina from grade school, hopes he makes it to his 39th birthday in June so we can celebrate it. As I arrived Tina had just found out the news from the doctor that the next round of chemo they were going to do will not be effective and it will make him really sick. The cancer has gotten into this brain stem. There's nothing more they can do. Just make him comfortable.
Mike was the first (and last) blind date I ever had. We went to a backwards dance when we were juniors in high school. I remember the dress I wore and the picture of us and our friends of that night is at my Dad's house. I think he thought I was a dingbat. I was. He was the most sarcastic person I had ever met. If your mother had left you, your Dad, and 6 brothers and sisters after one sister got killed in a car accident and another brother committed suicide, wouldn't you be sarcastic, too?
I remember the night 10 years ago or so of his surgery to remove the orange-sized tumor they had found in his brain. It was at UCLA Medical Center and I was there all night long with the rest of his family. The surgery had gone ok, but he was left with limited mobility on his left side and very slurred speech. He was permanently disabled and would never work again. So, on he goes taking it day by day until he breathes his last. I will be over regularly with meals, do some housecleaning, pick up their 17 year old from school and bring him home, and try to cheer my friend Tina up. I feel very sober right now. I'm not sad, but just very somber. I will be as supportive and loving and appropriately upbeat as I can be. What else can I offer, but my prayers?
I'll keep you posted.