Written February 4, 2011
Taking Hold Of Today
Dark forces
Negativity
Draining energy
Lack of light
Surrounded by misery
Feelings of aloneness
Push forward
Hold steady
Let it pass
The clouds may break
Change will come
Keep busy
Focus on the priorities
Ignore the noise
Move faster
Is this what is supposed to be
Am I to be the change
Am I to be changed
Resentment and frustration
Loyal servant, fool, or willing hostage
Another day begins
Tough guys don’t wear all black
They don’t flex around town because they’ve earned their scars
They don’t speak louder than necessary
And they laugh at the rest of you
Tough guys come over early on Saturdays
To make sure you get up and don’t waste the day
They drink coffee how they like it – no exceptions
They know two drinks is more than enough for one night
They come over once a week to play cards with their sisters
They tell stories of when they were humbled by life
They always leave with an “I love you,”
And drive away in luxurious cars
Tough guys wear white sneakers and baseball caps
Try to tell them they don’t look good – I dare you
They don’t quite get the current generation
But they know what life has in store and survived the worst
Tough guys put their hands on you shoulder
They steady you when life throws you adrift
They are always the rock, even when they too want to break
And they are always on point – regardless of the occasion
Tough guys don’t wear all black
They don’t flex around town because they’ve earned their scars
They don’t speak louder than necessary
And they laugh at the rest of you
I’ve spent a majority of my adult life watching family members suffer with cancer.
Both of my parents moved into my house in 1997-1998 after my brother died of a drug overdose. Our family was devastated and grieving, but my parents were distraught and just not functioning well. They were arguing and blaming, and trying to find out why such a terrible thing could have happened. There were no answers, but they suffered years blaming themselves and each other for something neither one of them could have prevented. Most of what occurred during the next year is a blur. I just remember trying to manage the damage and craziness, focus the attention on my brother’s children, and trying not to lose anyone else along the way.
My father died on December 10, 2014 at 74 years old from what started as kidney stones, that transitioned to kidney cancer, and spread to his bones, head, and then his liver. Although he spent over a year dealing with kidney stones and related issues, my father’s cancer seemed sudden and short-term. Although he was not feeling well for about a month, we were going to the doctors appointments and visiting the casino, and I was in no way prepared for his sudden death. I spent months (and even now) think about what I did wrong and what I could have done differently that might have saved him. Things that run through my mind that continue are “I wish I was smarter”. “Why didn’t I see this coming?”. “Maybe I didn’t ask the right questions”. “Was I not listening to the doctors?” “Maybe if I bought him to the hospital sooner, they would have been able to do something that would have saved him”. I’m hoping that some day I can forgive myself for my shortcomings.
My mother was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2000. She was on her way to work one day as a perfectly healthy 54 year old woman who was a black jack dealer at Trump Casino in Atlantic City. She had been in this career for 20+ years. There was a snow storm that left the roads icy and challenging. She made it to the employee parking lot, which was on the Atlantic City Expressway. Leaving her car and walking to the employee transport bus, she slipped on the ice and hurt her back, neck, and shoulder. This is the first time in her adult life when she ever really got hurt. She was in pain and in no condition to go to work. We spent months going to doctors, taking tests, and trying to get her on disability and maintain healthcare so that she could get treatment for her injuries.
There were lots of x-rays and ultrasounds and blood tests and CT scans. While completing tests to pinpoint the injuries from the fall, they found that my mother had lung cancer. Although there is a history of cancer in our family, this was shocking and unexpected. My mother was only 55 years old and this was a game changer that no one saw coming.
Ten years prior, my mother’s sister, Sue, died from cancer that spread quickly throughout her body. This tragedy left our family in shock and grieving for years. With such a close knit family, her presence was so greatly missed. Even as the years pass, we still talk about her and keep her memory alive.
Our entire family was panicked. Fear hit us all. And then denial. This couldn’t be happening again. This couldn’t be happening to my mother. She was so healthy and vibrant. She was busy living her life and enjoying the family and grandchildren. She was just starting to get past the loss of her only son to a drug overdose. Physically and mentally she was much stronger than most people, but her emotions always seemed to get the best of her. She felt things so strongly and it pained her to even think about the tragedies and loss suffered by our family.
I couldn’t help but think that God was looking out for us. Neither my mother or father ever went to the doctors. Had she not fallen on the ice and gone to the doctors and had testing, we would have never known that she had lung cancer. She seemed perfectly normal.
With the advice from my Aunt Marge (my mother’s sister) whose husband had been dealing with prostate cancer for over 10 years, we made an appointment at Fox Chase Cancer Center.
Fox Chase got copies of all of her test results. Then they did their own tests. More CT scans, PET scan, X-rays, blood tests. After all the tests, Fox Chase confirmed that my mother had lung cancer. It was believed that the cancer was in the upper lobe of her right lung and had not spread to her lymph nodes or any other part of her body. With this news, we were happy that there was hope and possibly a cure, but scared of what was to come.
Two names we will never forget are Dr. Melvin Goldberg and Dr. Michael Unger. Dr. Goldberg was a surgeon in his early 60’s. He was caring, confident and knowledgeable, and he wore a suit, bowtie, and a white coat every day. Most of all my mother trusted him. Dr. Unger was a middle aged pulmonary doctor, knowledgeable, and a “tell it like it is” kind of doctor. Although my mother came to trust him over time, I think she feared him because she never knew what he was going to say next. He would tell her that she wasn’t taking her medicine and that she was going to die if she didn’t. He would tell her that she was getting fat and that it was taking its toll on her breathing. He went right to her ego, but he was the doctor, and she wasn’t going to say to much because she needed him to get better.
Within a week or two of visiting Fox Chase, it was decided that they were going to remove the upper lobe of my mother’s right lung. There’s no way to express the fear and anxiety our whole family was dealing with. My mother put on a strong front, but she was scared and preparing for her death. She had no idea what to expect and she knew that this was going to be a life altering event.
So on the day of surgery my father, me, Uncle Len, Aunt Marge, Uncle Tom, and Aunt Pat all went with her to Fox Chase. We waited for hours. I was having stomach pains and thought I was going to throw up. I felt like I was in a bubble. My brain was foggy. My thoughts were overwhelming me. Even with everyone there to support us and make sure we were ok, I was looking for a place to hide and wait this out. I was scared, crying, and just feeling sick, and wanted to be alone. My father was quiet, sitting still in the waiting area. He was scared and it was showing in his demeanor, but he didn’t say anything.
Finally Dr. Goldberg came from surgery letting us know that the surgery was done and that she was in the recovery room. Dr. Goldberg told us that the cancer was more extensive than originally thought. Once he opened her up he found that the cancer had invaded her entire right lung, and it had to be removed.
He told us that he woke my mother up during the surgery to explain the situation to her, and she provided him with permission to do what was needed. During the surgery they also took our a lot of lymph nodes and sent them to the lab to determine whether the cancer was spreading to other areas of her body. The test results provided no evidence that the cancer was spreading. Dr. Goldberg told us that he was expecting that the surgery was going to be a cure and the cancer would be gone.
Mom was in the ICU for over a week with lots of ups and downs. At a few points they didn’t know if she was going to make it. My father and I spent most of our days and nights right there with her. They gave her a morphine drip with a button that she could press whenever she had any pain. It would only allow so much morphine to be dispensed, but she had some control in trying to manage her pain. When ever anyone went in to visit her in the ICU, I told them about the morphine button, and told them to push the button to make sure she was in no pain. There was a huge incision in her back and I was hoping she would sleep for a week or two until the wound healed. I was afraid for her, and afraid the paid would be too hard to endure.
Continued – I HATE CANCER – Part 2
With the recent passing of my father, I found myself reflecting on my mortality, my upbringing, and the influence my father had on making me who I am today.
Lesson #1: Actions Speak Louder Than Words
My father has been there my whole life. He had been a quiet presence, more of a role model through his actions, rather than through his words. He wasn’t a man of many words. He seemed much more comfortable observing and listening. He had on occasion shared stories of his childhood or business ventures, but most of the time he wouldn’t offer input unless specifically asked. Because of this many people have found him to be a mystery.
I know who my father was through observing how he lived his life and where he invested his time.
Lesson #2: Family Works Together
When my father wasn’t trying to make money, he spent a majority of his time at home with his family. He didn’t have a lot of friends to hang out with. He never drank alcohol. And he didn’t scream or curse. He was a quiet man, content with a cup of coffee, a tastykake, and a football game on the living room TV.
But he had three kids that were running through the house, playing around, jumping over him, and not even paying attention to what was going on.
He didn’t scream or yell to make us be quiet or go away. We were just being kids and trying to have fun. Instead he devised his own plan to get us interested and involved in what he was doing. He got all four of us (me, my sister, my brother, and my mother) to watch the game and root for his team with him. He told us that if we rooted for his team with him, they would win. If his team won, then he would make money. And if he made money, he would give us money to go to the store and do what we wanted. That was one sure fire way to get quiet in the house and focus back on the game! So we all gathered around the TV and watched the game and rooted for his team. And we were all so happy when we won, because we just made money and were off to the mall with mom to spend it!
What’s kind of funny is that as I became an adult I had no interest in watching any sporting events unless there was a bet involved and money to be made.
I remember trips to visit aunts, uncles, and cousins. We would have family outings where we would go bowling or play softball or catch at one of the local parks. We went for long drives to nowhere or just drive around to look at Christmas lights. Along the way we’d stop and my father would get us water ice and Philly pretzels to munch on in the back seat. Sometimes we’d stop at one of the local bakeries in South Philly and pick up a bag of hot rolls. I can still remember the smell. When we moved to Reno, I remember one really long drive to California over the Nevada mountains in the snow to go visit my father’s brother and his family. My parents were in the front seat and me and my sister and brother were in the back. It was a scary drive over those mountains, with an introduction to snow chains, mountainous cliffs, and Donner’s Pass. That was a trip I’d never forget.
When my father managed a motel and liquor store, I remember being in the office and in the store helping him with the inventory and loading the freezer and shelves. As I look back now I wonder whether it was legal for us to be working in a liquor store with my father at the age of 14 or 15, but regardless, we were there helping him and working in the store to stay busy (and out of trouble). When my father owned and operated the Gold & Silver Exchange in Sierra Sids Casino, my mother, sister, and I all worked in the store with him stocking shelves, selling merchandise, and chatting with potential customers. We were working together (and sometimes struggling) as a family to make it work.
Christmas Is A Time For Family, Creativity, & Giving
Christmas was a special time at our house. From the time I can remember, my dad always went out on Christmas Eve to go get our Christmas Tree. Some years he got lucky and was able to find a nice tree, but I remember many years where he would bring home the “Charlie Brown Christmas Tree”.
My dad’s job was to get the tree and set it up in the tree stand. My father was not a man who was handy with tools. I don’t really remember him having many tools or even a tool box. I remember the challenges he had trying to cut down the tree trunk and get it in the stand. Looking through some old pictures I found one with my dad hammering a tree trunk down to get it to fit into the tree stand.
One of the most difficult Christmas’ our family had was in 1979. My father had moved to Reno Nevada to start a career as a poker dealer. He moved west before the rest of our family in order to get started with the new job and find a place for us all to live. We arrived sometime after Christmas, and when we finally did get there, my father gave my mother a poem he had written for her.
Here it is:
Every year we would decorate the house, hang the stockings, light the tree, and exchange gifts on Christmas day. It was always a memorable day with family fun, food, and gifts.
The world changed on December 10, 2014 with the passing of my father. Christmas will never be the same. Next year we will all be wondering “Is it Christmas, it just can’t be, because my father is not with me.”
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