Life since 9/11
(I have committed to taking work more seriously this week so I will try to get this lengthy post finished tonight.)
Admittedly when Don was in his more critical stages of recovery last year I was more conscientious of my duties as a good friend to go down and vist as often as possible. Since then, what with my two-job schedule and attempt to save money I have not made the effort as much as I should.
Also, there is the painful to admit truth that as much as poignant TV specials would have you believe, a family in crisis after a major tragedy doesn't always band together in loving and healthy support. Caretakers don't necessarily become pillars of patience. And seriously ill people don't necessarly turn into moist-eyed saints. And not everyone steps up to the plate. Emotions and obligations get all screwy. It's really fucking intense.
Ron's needs in this situation have been completely shunted aside, I guess understandably. He knows this. As Don's identical twin, one could arguably say that he has been suffering just as much. He lives with major guilt, resentment and worry. He is also weighted down with a feeling of responsibility that he is now expected to be the one to support them both. Their relationship had always been enormously complicated as anyone who knows identical twins can attest to. Given the new circumstances, the dynamics between the two of them are completely crazy.
Several times when Ron has come out to Cali (he's getting his PhD in neurobiology something something at Columbia) he and Don have made the trip up to SF to give the parents and Don a break from the routine. The last visit was kind of a disaster. None of us was prepared to deal with the amount of mental and physical energy and assistance that Don demands. And I mean demands. Sam and I mostly felt like we were acting as therapists. I found myself alternately feeling very put-upon and annoyed and then super-ultra-accomodating to make up for it.
Whew -- its midnight here and I'm still giving background. I guess more tomorrow.

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