Saturday, June 4, 2011

I'm in America

We are hit by crisis again, a medical one, a deadly one. The Bin Laden of all diseases has aimed at the core of our family. The ugly spider has grabbed my little sister's lung; and we are geared for the battle of our life, like legendary amazons.

We are fighting the battle in America; in one of the top cancer treatment centers of the country (and perhaps the world.) When it comes to medicine, somehow I trust Americans the most. Somehow, I trust the simplicity of their "good guy versus bad guy" dichotomy the most; and their "we can do it" attitude.

I am in America, where strangers are not shy to hug me when they find me crying in a private corner; where the senator is prompt to guide us how to use his leverage to obtain visiting visas for the rest of our family who are still in the axis of evil; where the highwayphobic neurosurgeon professor does the unusual adventure of driving to the other neck of the woods to bring food, supplies, laughter and encouragement; where hope is researched and invented ...

These days, I drive the vast suburbs of the South, fashion-free in shorts and tops, and contemplate moving closer to my family, abandoning my old European home, abandoning urban landscapes to which I am existentially dependent, abandoning the social systems that would perhaps not have allowed the kind of preferential treatments we can seek in America. I fear I will go crazy; but family comes first; and at this moment I would do anything for my little sister's comfort, survival and well-being.

These days, I spend hours and hours examining and re-examining the meaning of life. Many of my convictions are thrown out of the door: my platonic naturalism and my pharmacynicism, first and foremost. In fact, for the first time, I am grateful for the kind of education I have received, and it gives me purpose in working. And I no longer believe in things like "I would never pay taxes to war nations."

18 comments:

kellie said...

My best wishes to you and your family Naj.

Naj said...

thank you Kellie; I appreciate it.

Revolutionary Fesenjan said...

Naj, I am sure she is going to feel perfectly well soon. Please stay happy and hopeful she needs to see you like that now. I am sure everything will be great soon. Love to you and your sister.

Naj said...

Thanks Rick; she is an arse-kicker! Considering she is a doctor and she is well aware of how GRAVE her situation is, her relaxed and determined attitude to get better is beating all of us to faith and humility ... somehow.

Naj said...

Fesenjoon-e azizam,

Thank you! I never imagined such a pain that I suffered in the past week; but somehow the shock is over and the pragmatic stoic resilience our turmoiled country has screwed in us has kicked in ... we shall overcome this, somehow.

nunya said...

I am so sorry. If there is anything I can do?

Naj said...

send us your well wishes, nunya ... we just need energy and love ...

Afsaneh said...

Naj, I'm also a lung cancer survivor so there's always hope. I hope for the best.

Naj said...

AFSANEH:::

T H A N K Y O U

these messages of hope are all we need these days ...

THANK YOU ...

Pedestrian said...

Naj, Love you blogging sister!

If your sister is half the a** kicker that you are (maybe double?) I'm sure it will be ok!

Naj said...

thanks Ped ...

right now the biggest freaking obstacle is the freaking Turkey visa application ... I HATE the Turkish handlers of the American/Iranian affairs ...

:'(

goatman said...

If you have to have cancer,bless the Gods, this in US is the place to have it.
I am well after an 18 day treatment for multiple myeloma -- a bone-marrow cancer. I thank the Docs, and the Insurance Company, for my good health so far.

Anonymous said...

dear Ms. Naj,
I think your openess to new ideas is your most charming quality ;Hard-boiled to ossified idealogs are much more common. to you,and your sister,welcome to America
and enjoy every moment/
btl

Komal said...

All my best wishes for your sister and the rest of the worried family.

Laurie O. said...

Hello Naj, my sister has had cancer for over two years and while it isn't gone, she is doing well. I always tell her to eat her broccoli! Human First then Proud Iranian linked to you and I wondered if you know what has happened to him? I haven't seen his posts for quite a while. Thanks! Laura

Naj said...

Hi Laura; thanks for your message.
I have been an absent blogger lately; and I have lost track of many old friends; I suspect human first, like me, it experiencing some apathy state ... but I don't know for sure. If you see him, say hi for me.

Unknown said...

Naj, I just came across this post. I wonder where you are and how you are doing and send you all the love I possibly can via these imperfect digital lines. Please let me know how it is going with you and if there is anything I can do... Much love and warmth...

Naj said...

Hi Tori (and others)

thank you for your kind messages.

we are hanging in there and fighting and learning to live, live intensely, and live with death camping in our back yard, in our genes.

And everyday, the pain of the loved one, pains us, and ages us, and depresses us, and shrinks us deep down, but we also learn that no matter how great the pain, there is this adaptive mechanism that makes us resist, that makes us resilient, that makes us travel and party and eat and party and shop and be charitable and be light .

Finally, all family is granted visa to come to the states, and we will soon be united ...

life goes on ...