October 5th is hours away, which means eight years ago from the moment I sit here writing this, my family was congregated at my sister Erin’s bedside watching her struggle through her final breaths.
I used to love autumn. But now the cooler temperatures and the bold colors bring back memories from that year, so strongly imprinted on me that it can be challenging to see beyond the anger and sadness and depression that always re-emerges. These emotions are never far away (in a sense, they’ve replaced the adult life I always reasonably expected to share with both of my sisters) but this time of year, particularly the week leading up to and the days surrounding October 5th, they’re all just a little bit heightened.
As I’ve discussed before, one of her biggest fears about dying was thinking that as time would pass on and life would evolve for those of us left behind, our memories of and feelings for her would gradually fade away. And even though that really isn’t ever going to happen, I think in a way it has a little bit. I’ve noticed that whenever someone dies before their time, the loved ones remaining tend to hang onto an idealized version of the person they lost. We want to remember the good things that were so special about the person that we miss. But that kind of revisionist history isn’t a truth. Sure, the good things are all there, but we all have quirks and insecurities and failings. We all get on each others nerves on occasion. And these things are important dimensions of what makes each of us a whole person.
When I start prepping a manuscript, one exercise I use to get to know my characters is to make lists of their defining attributes. This year I’ve decided to make a list of things that would represent the Whole Erin I knew, as if I were defining her as a character for someone who didn’t know her. Not just the greeting card memories, but the real her. If you never met her, I hope this will help you know more about why she was so important to us. If you did know her, I hope this gives you glimpses back to who she really was, and reminds you just exactly why we miss her so much:
1 - She was all too willing, and in fact eager to bring new friends into her life, sometimes level-jumping into a closeness faster than most people would. Once she decided someone was a member of her inner circle, she made every effort to make sure they understood how important they were to her.
2 - She could not fall asleep without some kind of ambient noise in the room. She packed a small portable fan whenever she traveled, just for the sound it made.
3 - Her taste in music was absolutely head-scratching. Do you remember that odd 90s one-hit wonder, “How Bizarre?” She is the only person I knew who liked that song so much she actually bought the album it came from.
4 - She had a wicked passive-aggressive streak when she wanted to bring it out.
5 - She set a goal to skydive before she turned 30 but didn’t tell my parents about it (or me for that matter, and possibly our sister) until afterward. In retrospect, I saw two reasons for this: First, she didn’t want our mom and dad to freak out about her skydiving. But also it was a good example of how sometimes she would put up little bits of distance between herself and the rest of the family in an effort to define herself.
6 - She would occasionally borrow my car for road trips back home during college. When she would return it, the steering wheel would be slippery with Dorito grease.
7 - Even before she was sick, she believed she was going to die young.
8 - The very day I left home for college, she stole the television out of my bedroom and put it in hers. I can only guess how long she’d been planning that heist before her chance came up.
9 - She owned more sweatshirts than even I do.
10 - If my phone rang during a commercial break while watching The X Files, I knew when I picked it up I’d hear her scream, “OHMYGODDIDYOUSEEWHATJUSTHAPPENED??”
11 - She loved dogs to a point that it was almost irrational. I had to convince her once that it wasn’t a good idea for her dog to ride in her lap when she was driving 80 m.p.h. on the freeway. There are four dogs in our family now: Willow, Mac, Shamus, and Butch. She never knew any of them but would have loved them all desperately.
12 - She planned every possible detail about her funeral, down to what shirts her pallbearers would wear. The only things left for Jenny and I to take care of were writing the eulogy (my job) and choosing the readings for the service. We picked one that said something about sheep because Erin loved sheep, and picked the other because it had been featured in a funeral on The West Wing, which was our favorite show at the time.
13 - Any senior citizen she ever met was an immediate best friend.
14 - She attended a Star Trek convention in downtown Minneapolis once. Her and whichever friend she had gone with got lost looking for it, then saw two people in costume walk by. She nudged her friend and said, “Follow those Klingons.”
15 - Her death wasn’t an easy one, but she fought to maintain her independence, her sense of self and her dignity for as long as she could, even when she was well beyond the point of knowing the time to fight was already over.
16 - She could be horribly bossy and controlling, and often saved it for Jenny and me. I think a lot of it was a youngest-child thing.
17 - She essentially named my dog; when I told her the short list of names I was considering, she picked her favorite by saying, “Well, it doesn’t matter what you call him now, because I’m calling him Spencer!”
18 - When it was just the three of us together -- Erin, Jenny, and me -- we could laugh ourselves wordlessly stupid at the most ridiculous, immature things.
19 - She knew how to hold a grudge when she wanted to.
20 - After her surgery and radiation treatment, she was in remission for all of three months before her cancer returned. I’m pretty sure I know the moment she first suspected it was back -- it happened in my classroom in front of my students.
21 - She was very protective of her private life.
22 - She didn’t respond well to having her insecurities highlighted, even accidentally. Sure, nobody does, but I mean she REALLY didn’t respond well to it.
23 - She would have been one of those people you get sick of seeing appear on your Facebook news feed so often.
24 - She loved our nephews more than she loved anyone else on Earth.
25 - The Erin she put on display for people was as much of a reflection of who she always thought she wanted to be as who she was. And in some dark twist of irony, I think her illness and death was what finally gave her permission to reconcile the two.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Thursday, September 27, 2012
How to Be An Uncle
One of my closest, dearest friends became an uncle for the first time tonight when his sister gave birth to twin boys (Congrats to Jill and Matt, by the way -- and good luck with THAT whole adventure). Anyway, since I'm kind of an expert on Uncleing after my eighteen-point-five years on the job, I thought I should probably share some of my wisdom tonight, to prevent him from making some of the more typical "newbie" mistakes. I know some of these things won't apply right away and maybe not at the same level if you'll have a state or two between you and the fellas, but you never know what the future holds and I feel responsible for preparing you for any possible situation.
(1) Your life is about to have a lot more chicken nuggets in it than it did before.
(2) Christmas? Birthdays? Legos. But maybe hold off until age four, though. And whatever set you get them, make sure it has a few Lego guys in it that aren't already in their collection.
(3) Even if you know you're buying Legos, it's always a great joke to threaten that you're going to get them a Barbie for their gift. At least it's funny until the little turds team up and beat you to the punch.
(4) Just saying the word "poop" is a guaranteed laugh. And get an app for your iPad that makes fart noises. It will be years until they get tired of it.
(5) Stock up on sunblock, just in case you find yourself attending a lot of soccer/football/baseball/whatever games.
(6) Have a pocketful of change at the ready in case you're with them and you find yourself within seventy yards of a vending machine. They know where all of them are instinctively.
(7) When they're in the 2-4 age range and they find something to do they really like doing, like rolling one pool ball back and forth across the table and laughing hysterically? Just go with it.
(8) Don't be surprised by things like when they run around the house wearing cowboy boots, tightie-whities and Krispy Kreme paper hats.
(9) When your sister asks you to feed them, remember she secretly only wants them full. You have all necessary veto power on vegetables.
(10) Watch the little buggers like Secret Service if they are ever near fire or water.
(11) Pay close attention to when they start showing an interest in music (I'm sure you'll notice) so you can swoop in, buy them their first formative CD (or whatever they have in another ten or so years) and take credit for inspiring the musical direction of their life.
(12) Bribes really do work.
(13) At some point one of them will think a plastic bag could make a really good hat or helmet. Be ready for this. And if they burst into tears because they're startled by how quickly you pull it off their head? That only means you've done your job.
(14) Nicknames are a requirement at some point. But you already know this.
(15) Start practicing how to insert plastic straws into juice pouches. NOW.
(16) When they are little guys, you can tuck their arms into their sweatpants and then pull the waistband up to their armpits. This will keep them entertained for at least half an hour while they walk around the house trying to get people to laugh at them.
(17) Two words: Action figures.
(18) You will watch their favorite movies and read their favorite books with them so many times you will dream about them. There's no way around this.
(19) If you ever take them to see a movie in a theater, make sure they go to the bathroom before you leave the house and buy them a huge thing of candy from the concession stand to distract them from noticing they aren't getting the soda they asked for. Unless you want to miss ten minutes in the middle of the movie.
(20) Malls? Parks? Anywhere in public? ALWAYS WALK BEHIND THEM SO YOU KNOW WHERE THEY ARE.
(21) If they show you a YouTube video of their friends careening downhill in stolen shopping carts, try not to act impressed. If anything, discourage such behavior.
(22) They really need a dog at some point. If their parents are resistant about getting one, you should feel free to do the surprise gift thing.
(23) If they cut loose with a massive burp, don't demand an "Excuse me." Instead just say, "So do you feel better now?"
(24) I really wasn't exaggerating about the Legos.
(25) Remember you are NOT an aunt. Revel in the lowered expectations.
(1) Your life is about to have a lot more chicken nuggets in it than it did before.
(2) Christmas? Birthdays? Legos. But maybe hold off until age four, though. And whatever set you get them, make sure it has a few Lego guys in it that aren't already in their collection.
(3) Even if you know you're buying Legos, it's always a great joke to threaten that you're going to get them a Barbie for their gift. At least it's funny until the little turds team up and beat you to the punch.
(4) Just saying the word "poop" is a guaranteed laugh. And get an app for your iPad that makes fart noises. It will be years until they get tired of it.
(5) Stock up on sunblock, just in case you find yourself attending a lot of soccer/football/baseball/whatever games.
(6) Have a pocketful of change at the ready in case you're with them and you find yourself within seventy yards of a vending machine. They know where all of them are instinctively.
(7) When they're in the 2-4 age range and they find something to do they really like doing, like rolling one pool ball back and forth across the table and laughing hysterically? Just go with it.
(8) Don't be surprised by things like when they run around the house wearing cowboy boots, tightie-whities and Krispy Kreme paper hats.
(9) When your sister asks you to feed them, remember she secretly only wants them full. You have all necessary veto power on vegetables.
(10) Watch the little buggers like Secret Service if they are ever near fire or water.
(11) Pay close attention to when they start showing an interest in music (I'm sure you'll notice) so you can swoop in, buy them their first formative CD (or whatever they have in another ten or so years) and take credit for inspiring the musical direction of their life.
(12) Bribes really do work.
(13) At some point one of them will think a plastic bag could make a really good hat or helmet. Be ready for this. And if they burst into tears because they're startled by how quickly you pull it off their head? That only means you've done your job.
(14) Nicknames are a requirement at some point. But you already know this.
(15) Start practicing how to insert plastic straws into juice pouches. NOW.
(16) When they are little guys, you can tuck their arms into their sweatpants and then pull the waistband up to their armpits. This will keep them entertained for at least half an hour while they walk around the house trying to get people to laugh at them.
(17) Two words: Action figures.
(18) You will watch their favorite movies and read their favorite books with them so many times you will dream about them. There's no way around this.
(19) If you ever take them to see a movie in a theater, make sure they go to the bathroom before you leave the house and buy them a huge thing of candy from the concession stand to distract them from noticing they aren't getting the soda they asked for. Unless you want to miss ten minutes in the middle of the movie.
(20) Malls? Parks? Anywhere in public? ALWAYS WALK BEHIND THEM SO YOU KNOW WHERE THEY ARE.
(21) If they show you a YouTube video of their friends careening downhill in stolen shopping carts, try not to act impressed. If anything, discourage such behavior.
(22) They really need a dog at some point. If their parents are resistant about getting one, you should feel free to do the surprise gift thing.
(23) If they cut loose with a massive burp, don't demand an "Excuse me." Instead just say, "So do you feel better now?"
(24) I really wasn't exaggerating about the Legos.
(25) Remember you are NOT an aunt. Revel in the lowered expectations.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Echoes from the Past
This isn't a lighthearted post, so don't say you weren't warned....
I had a moment today that brought the following story into my active memory, and for whatever reason I know the only way I’m going to be able to purge it is to put it up here. Back when my sister was sick, the job of keeping the long list of concerned family and friends in the loop about her progress fell to me, being Writer Boy and all. So here are some excepts from the hundred-plus pages of text I mass-mailed out over a period of eight months.
*****
Update - July 19
Erin called me this evening with some news she wanted to pass along. Her hospice nurse was out to see her and scheduled a hospital visit for her to have a PICC line implanted in her arm. She was bothered about this as she is whenever something new happens, but Jenny told her having a PICC line implanted was a pretty routine thing.
Mom says Erin will definitely spend at least one night in the hospital, but beyond that we don't know. It might only be one night, it might be two -- I guess we wait and see. She is tired of trying to cough so much and hopefully having this will minimize the pain she feels. After talking with her nurse, she had to admit things are progressing. She feels like she has a pretty good timeline in her head now and is trying to accept it.
Update - July 25
Erin didn't get as much sleep as she normally does and was a bit stressed about being away from her home, where she feels safe. Mom stayed with her in the room, sleeping in a chair. Jenny and I went to visit the first night for an hour or two. Mom was pretty wound up about being in the hospital again. She'd been in the room for more than a few hours when we got there, so I said I was hungry and wanted to go down to the cafeteria, which was only partially true. Mom said she had a sandwich in her bag that I could have and Jenny made a joke about Ron Weasley, a reference some people will get and some won’t. We were both thinking -- independently as it turns out -- that we wanted to get Mom out of the room for a much needed change in her surroundings. We eventually did.
Erin's mood bounced in several directions during her stay, but she was always welcoming and personable when one of the nurses stopped in. Those of you who know her well won't be surprised to hear she made fast friends with the nurses, and many of them stopped in just to chat during her visit. She had several other visitors as well; it was a lucky bit of chance her doctor was on duty during her stay so he was in to check up on her a few times. Every person that Erin knows through both hospice and the cancer center came up to see her when they heard she was checked in. Many came in on a professional basis, but several also came to visit during their time off. Erin’s hospice nurse even brought her one of the Monte Cristo sandwiches she treasures so much, a step up from hospital food.
The PICC line went in on Wednesday morning. The procedure was fairly simple, though she felt a little stiffness in her arm afterward. Jenny and I were there most of the day Wednesday. There was a lot of TV, reading, walks down the hall, snacks, naps, talks, breaks for meals, and visits from the hospital staff. One of Erin’s friends had sent me pictures of her new baby girl, which I printed and brought to show her.
Erin decided she wanted to continue her treatment relying only on the new pump for her morphine, which means she can finally stop using the patches. However, giving up the patches would mean staying in the hospital another day so the medicine from her current patch would have time to wear off before the pump can be calibrated. She is now done with the morphine patches, as well as the liquid morphine and the morphine she took from the nebulizer. She does still use the neb, though for a different medicine so she can breathe more clearly. Yeah, it's a lot of morphine and it’s all pretty nasty, but trust me when I say you’re being spared the worst of it. Erin, Jenny, and I were making some jokes about her symptoms on Monday night that some of you would find thoroughly nauseating.
*****
After she died, I wrote out a cinder-block sized manuscript that described in excruciating detail what the whole experience had been like for our family -- my therapy. When I wrote about this hospital visit, I did actually describe the symptoms mentioned above. Out of context of the whole story, I’m pretty sure it would be appreciated if I leave them out here online. You're welcome.
*****
We were there for a long time on Wednesday, but as I look back at the day now I don't remember it feeling long or boring. Mom stayed again Wednesday night, and in fact did not leave the hospital the entire time Erin was admitted. Although I'm sure she was wishing she'd brought a change of clothes.
When I got home on Wednesday I had an e-mail from my cousin Kelly, who works in pharmacy like Jenny, and is scary-smart about it all like Jenny. She said getting a PICC line was pretty routine and could be a wonderful thing when it came to pain management.
Dad brought Erin and Mom home Friday morning. Erin slept while Mom washed their clothes and cleaned up after being a hospital guest herself for three days. Erin was kind of down now that the whole thing was over, and here she had this "next thing" sticking out of her arm that she had to deal with.
*****
She lived a little more than two months past these events. It was always the “next things” that would come along, the surprising benchmarks that would remind me everything about her illness was real. These days, so many years later, it’s still the random reminders that unexpectedly remind me it all really happened.
I had a moment today that brought the following story into my active memory, and for whatever reason I know the only way I’m going to be able to purge it is to put it up here. Back when my sister was sick, the job of keeping the long list of concerned family and friends in the loop about her progress fell to me, being Writer Boy and all. So here are some excepts from the hundred-plus pages of text I mass-mailed out over a period of eight months.
*****
Update - July 19
Erin called me this evening with some news she wanted to pass along. Her hospice nurse was out to see her and scheduled a hospital visit for her to have a PICC line implanted in her arm. She was bothered about this as she is whenever something new happens, but Jenny told her having a PICC line implanted was a pretty routine thing.
Mom says Erin will definitely spend at least one night in the hospital, but beyond that we don't know. It might only be one night, it might be two -- I guess we wait and see. She is tired of trying to cough so much and hopefully having this will minimize the pain she feels. After talking with her nurse, she had to admit things are progressing. She feels like she has a pretty good timeline in her head now and is trying to accept it.
Update - July 25
Erin didn't get as much sleep as she normally does and was a bit stressed about being away from her home, where she feels safe. Mom stayed with her in the room, sleeping in a chair. Jenny and I went to visit the first night for an hour or two. Mom was pretty wound up about being in the hospital again. She'd been in the room for more than a few hours when we got there, so I said I was hungry and wanted to go down to the cafeteria, which was only partially true. Mom said she had a sandwich in her bag that I could have and Jenny made a joke about Ron Weasley, a reference some people will get and some won’t. We were both thinking -- independently as it turns out -- that we wanted to get Mom out of the room for a much needed change in her surroundings. We eventually did.
Erin's mood bounced in several directions during her stay, but she was always welcoming and personable when one of the nurses stopped in. Those of you who know her well won't be surprised to hear she made fast friends with the nurses, and many of them stopped in just to chat during her visit. She had several other visitors as well; it was a lucky bit of chance her doctor was on duty during her stay so he was in to check up on her a few times. Every person that Erin knows through both hospice and the cancer center came up to see her when they heard she was checked in. Many came in on a professional basis, but several also came to visit during their time off. Erin’s hospice nurse even brought her one of the Monte Cristo sandwiches she treasures so much, a step up from hospital food.
The PICC line went in on Wednesday morning. The procedure was fairly simple, though she felt a little stiffness in her arm afterward. Jenny and I were there most of the day Wednesday. There was a lot of TV, reading, walks down the hall, snacks, naps, talks, breaks for meals, and visits from the hospital staff. One of Erin’s friends had sent me pictures of her new baby girl, which I printed and brought to show her.
Erin decided she wanted to continue her treatment relying only on the new pump for her morphine, which means she can finally stop using the patches. However, giving up the patches would mean staying in the hospital another day so the medicine from her current patch would have time to wear off before the pump can be calibrated. She is now done with the morphine patches, as well as the liquid morphine and the morphine she took from the nebulizer. She does still use the neb, though for a different medicine so she can breathe more clearly. Yeah, it's a lot of morphine and it’s all pretty nasty, but trust me when I say you’re being spared the worst of it. Erin, Jenny, and I were making some jokes about her symptoms on Monday night that some of you would find thoroughly nauseating.
*****
After she died, I wrote out a cinder-block sized manuscript that described in excruciating detail what the whole experience had been like for our family -- my therapy. When I wrote about this hospital visit, I did actually describe the symptoms mentioned above. Out of context of the whole story, I’m pretty sure it would be appreciated if I leave them out here online. You're welcome.
*****
We were there for a long time on Wednesday, but as I look back at the day now I don't remember it feeling long or boring. Mom stayed again Wednesday night, and in fact did not leave the hospital the entire time Erin was admitted. Although I'm sure she was wishing she'd brought a change of clothes.
When I got home on Wednesday I had an e-mail from my cousin Kelly, who works in pharmacy like Jenny, and is scary-smart about it all like Jenny. She said getting a PICC line was pretty routine and could be a wonderful thing when it came to pain management.
Dad brought Erin and Mom home Friday morning. Erin slept while Mom washed their clothes and cleaned up after being a hospital guest herself for three days. Erin was kind of down now that the whole thing was over, and here she had this "next thing" sticking out of her arm that she had to deal with.
*****
She lived a little more than two months past these events. It was always the “next things” that would come along, the surprising benchmarks that would remind me everything about her illness was real. These days, so many years later, it’s still the random reminders that unexpectedly remind me it all really happened.
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