I am less optimistic about my brother's life than before. I talked to him on the phone, he sounds drugged up, which I know he is, and in pain. He's still himself, but so impaired, so diminished.
He's asked me to help find out how much his Zap Comix are worth, the old original printing of R. Crumb's underground comic books. Very valuable. Very. I was distressed when he'd sell off his antique toys and collectibles; and later his marbles, but now .... his Zaps? The last icon of a past life? His treasure chest of alternative life? This is the end. Even if he happens to get through this phase, the time after will not be long enough. Ever.
And still, the SIL has no job past a few hours of reading tutoring. She's still talking about going to Jeremy's pass in review; I understand the desire, but I've seen the airfares before Thanksgiving. (I'm traveling myself with MyLarry). She always talks about my brother's last chance to do this or that, so I think I understand the motives. But realistically, there's no money. None. She says she has to care for him, but as long as he's in the hospital, and it will be a long, long time, no she doesn't. He is being cared for by professionals. Is she capable of working? I don't know. She has a bad back, and I know how that is. Still, I'd never put my wants before the bills. Never. I just gave up my first convention so Larry could see his dad. I'd sling burgers if I had no other income. I'd hate it and bitch and whine and moan, but if Larry were incapacitated, I'd make my hands busy with something to bring in money no matter how much I hated doing it.
I am in a big anger phase right now, I am very angry with cancer, but I'm more angry with what seems to be selfish laziness on my SIL's part. She has a knack for spending what she does not have, and a complete inablility to grasp that bills and food and the mortgage come before trips and clothes and games. I don't care how bored a person is, they can't watch fancy TVs on the street. I may be planning a couple big trips or three (WV for Thaksgiving, Malaga, Rosarita) but the bills are paid and the mortgage covered.
I wonder if she knows this blog exists. She'll be pissed if she does read it. I think my brother would be too. I know he loves her, but this is my blog and if I want to be angry here, I shall. Sigh. Life is so very unfair sometimes.