Monday, February 11, 2008

sobering news


When I was very young, my big sister would tell me all about her dates when she returned to our shared bedroom late at night. I was a captive audience, far more interested that a 6-year-old ought to be. I developed strong opinions regarding the worthiness of each boy.
Then, when I turned 7, she dropped a bomb. She'd be leaving me. She was pregnant and had to get married- a teen bride. At least the father of her baby was my favorite of her suitors.
I disliked the lonely bedroom after she left, and had a hard time getting to sleep. She lived in a nearby town and still showed up for emergencies, like when I was home alone at age 9 and sliced my thumb open while whittling a horse.
She showed up to send me off on my first date, too, which did turn out to be an emergency. My mother was trying to force me to conform to her standards of what a marketable young girl should look like in order to snare a boy, and when my date rang the doorbell, I was in tears, hysterical. In a move highly uncharacteristic for my family, my sister actually put her arm around me and led me down the stairs to answer the door, telling me everything would be all right.
Still, my sister and I were not close. She was much older, and her life diverged from mine early on, as her marriage, followed by her divorce, followed by a succession of failed dysfunctional relationships, kept her occupied.
I have always worried about my sister. She was smart, beautiful and endearing, and could have done anything she wanted to. But she whithered away, hiding from life itself, saving her brilliant personality for the ne'er-d-wells in the bars she frequented. She cut herself off from my parents, resenting them for not raising her well.
And when cancer took our mother, the family deteriorated completely, having lost its only stabilizing force. My sister and I did not get along after my mother died, and talked long distance only sporadically.
It's been 7 years since I've seen my sister, when I was in NYC and she took a train down from her apartment in Boston to meet me. We walked through Central Park with my son and her daughter- my niece, who was born when I was 7.
She is the only person who has consistently remembered my son at Christmas and birthdays, even though she never had much money. She always sent stunning handmade cards to go with her gifts. Once recently she admitted to me over the phone that she had thought of moving to my city to be my son's nanny when he was born. I never knew.
Tonight I received an email from my niece. She dropped a bomb. My sister has a cancerous tumor on her tongue. It's advanced enough that the oncologists ordered a CT scan and then will decide among the options of surgery, chemo and radiation. The fact that it's not a small enough tumor to just quickly remove is daunting, along with the fact that chemo and radiation are options instead of just surgery. The CT scan means that there is concern that the cancer has spread to the neck.
I'm still trying to take it in.

11 comments:

Kacey said...

I'm so sorry that you have this news right after you have found her again. I did know someone with tongue cancer --- way back in the 1970's. It was a tough one then and probably still is today, but you never know what new things have come out. She will surly need you now. I will add her to my list of prayer needs at night.

Betty said...

Dear Kacey,

It's turning out to be even worse than I originally thought. She has to have all her teeth pulled out before undergoing a 10-hour surgery. They have to break her jaw to get the tumor out, and they will take lymph nodes out of her neck, do a tracheotomy and insert a food tube. And they haven't even done a full body scan yet to see how far it has spread!

Thank you for the prayers. Her name is Donna. Whirling Donna, that is.

Hugs,
Betty

simply me said...

Dear Betty - I am so very sorry to hear of your dear sister. I just read that and it chocked my up, including your comment to Kacey....I will pray for you both.
Honestly there are no words.

Betty said...

Dear Simply Me,

You have no idea how much your comment means, as my favorite bloggers slip away one by one. You and Kacey are all I have left.

Thank you for your prayers.

Hugs,
Betty

Priyamvada_K said...

Dear Betty,
Came by your blog and saw this - and read your comments. I am so sorry to read this. I wish and pray that your sister will beat it, and that they get it all out.

Still stunned, and trying to digest this. We've never met, but I've always rooted for you. Hang in there, girl. Hugs to Donna and you.

Love,
Priya.

Betty said...

Dear Priya,

I'm so glad to see you. Your support means a lot!

Many hugs,
Betty

Shankari said...

Out of the blue through the mindnumbing haze that my life is now, I felt the need to reach out to you today Betty. Now I know why. Will pray for Donna, her daughter and you - there is nothing as powerful as prayer. Be there for her as this IS an emergency.

HUGS

Shankari

Betty said...

Dear Shankari,

Thank you so much for reaching out to me today. And thank you for the prayers- that's exactly what we need now.

Your visit means a lot to me.

Hugs,
Betty

Patti said...

Betty it's never too late and you can now be there for your sister.

Betty said...

Patti, you're right. I wish she didn't live so far away, but still, I can make myself available.

Hugs,
Betty

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