Chemo

I spent the night at Ima's place. It's the first time i've done that in a while, probably years; the last time i can remember staying with her was on my return from the ill fated european excursion when I had contracted Hepatitis.
She's feeling practically awful; Tamar thinks this last round of chemo is a mistake. I don't know what to think - except that I get the feeling anything we do won't really help, and that Ima is in a rapid downward spiral. The cancer is spreading like wildfire, her voice is leaving her, she can't eat anything and she's in near constant pain. She asked about PAS, physician assisted suicide last night; i don't think she's really interested in it, but from my short reading about it on the web I find out that it's more of safety blanket for some people: they get pills in certain dosage from their physicians, and then they can end their suffering when they see fit. I don't think there is much of a moral or ethical question involved in this case. I am of course, not ready to see Ima go, but I have no doubt that I'd respect her wishes if she wanted to leave at her own pace. I expect Sue doesn't feel quite that way. Either way; it's getting grim around here.

Update later that day:
Her doctor (Dr. Ghandi) says that most of the symptoms Ima's feeling right now are directly linked to the chemo and not the cancer; that doesn't really cover the growths that she says are hurting; but the nausea, the weakness, drowsiness, etc, are caused by the chemo and the accompanying drugs. So that next week when the chemo wears off she should feel better, more normal. I hope she's right, and I am betting she is. I don't think that's good enough reason to continue the chemo.
I'm spending tonight at her place aswell. She likes the company and needs the help. Earlier today she got up to fetch something and fell right down.

Yesterday morning:
I also bought that M. Ward record the other night, Transfigurations Of Vincent, which is less grim that I originally thought it'd be. It's got that funny cover of Bowie's Lets Dance on it. I guess he's a young kid from Oregon, where PAS is permitted.

Iron And Wine

Just bought 'Our Endless Numbered Days' on the iTunes store - brings the number of records I bought up to 4, and i have to say it's really beautiful. Especially in these post funeral days where the thoughts of Bubbie's plain pine casket with the magen david on it, with her frail-once-lively body in it, being lowered to the ground are haunting me; and the silence and emptiness of her house are ringing in my mind.
It's a beautiful slightly melancholy record, home made, delicious, thoughtful. Comes as a great reminder that the right thing at the right time makes a song what it is, not all the production in the world.
Iron and Wine.com

Chicago - Is That All There Is, Again.

So my Bubbie, my fathers mother, passed away on Thursday November 11th. According to my Zaide, whose my fathers father, she did not pass away peacefully. "Those rotten bastards at the hospital killed her," he says over and over again as he chokes back tears and sobs. Who'd thought that Zaide, who we all thought, and had witnessed(!), being tormented by my Bubbie for decades, would be so shook up by her loss? It seems patently obvious though, that a couple who had been together probably day and night for 72 years, for better or for worse, would be devastated by a death.
However, it is hard for us who saw them at their best and worse to believe the extent of the devastation.