Here I Am by Jonathan Safran Foer(168)
HOW TO PLAY THE INTERSECTION OF LOVE, ANGER, AND FEAR OF DEATH
At my annual cleaning, the dentist spent an unusual amount of time looking in my mouth—not at my teeth, but deeper—his instruments of pain slowly tarnishing, untouched, on the tray. He asked if I’d been having a hard time swallowing.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.”
“I suppose a bit.”
“For how long?”
“A couple of months?”
“Did you ever mention it to your doctor?”
He referred me to an oncologist at Johns Hopkins.
I was surprised by my instinct to call Julia. We hardly ever spoke anymore: she had long since remarried; the kids were masters of their own logistics, being adults; and as one gets older, there is less and less news to share, until the final piece, which is delivered by someone else. The dialogue in the show is virtually identical to what actually transpired, with one significant exception: in life, I didn’t cry. I screamed: “Unfair! Unfair! Unfair!”
JACOB
It’s me.
JULIA
I recognize your voice.
JACOB
It’s been a long time.
JULIA
And your number comes up on my phone.
JACOB
As Jacob?
JULIA
As opposed to what?
JACOB
Listen—
JULIA
Is everything OK?
JACOB
I was at the dentist this morning—
JULIA
But I didn’t make an appointment for you.
JACOB
I’ve become remarkably capable.
JULIA
Necessity is the ex-wife of capability.
JACOB
He saw a lump in my throat.
Julia starts crying. Each is surprised by her reaction to nothing (yet), and it goes on for longer than either would have imagined or thought bearable.
JULIA
You’re dying?
JACOB
The dentist, Julia.
JULIA
You’re telling me he saw a lump, and you’re calling me.
JACOB
Both a lump and a phone call can be benign, you know.
JULIA
So now what?
JACOB
I have an appointment with an oncologist at Hopkins.
JULIA
Tell me everything.
JACOB
You know everything I know.
JULIA
Have you had any other symptoms? Stiffness in your neck? Difficulty swallowing?
JACOB
Did you go to med school since we last spoke?
JULIA I’m googling while we talk.
JACOB
Yes, I’ve had stiffness in my neck. And yes, I’ve had difficulty swallowing. Now will you please give me your undivided attention?
JULIA
Is Lauren being supportive?
JACOB
You’d have to ask the man she’s presently dating.
JULIA
I’m sorry to hear that.
JACOB
And you’re the first person I’ve told.
JULIA
Do the boys know?
JACOB
I told you, you’re the first—
JULIA
Right.
JACOB
I’m sorry to have laid this on you. I know I haven’t been your responsibility for a long time.
JULIA
You were never my responsibility.
(beat)
And you still are my responsibility.
JACOB
I won’t tell the kids anything until there’s something real to tell them.
JULIA
Good. That’s good.
(beat)
How are you holding up?
JACOB
I’m fine. He’s just a dentist.
JULIA
It’s OK to be scared.
JACOB
If he were so smart, he’d be a dermatologist.
JULIA
Have you cried?
JACOB
On November 18, 1985, when Lawrence Taylor ended Joe Theismann’s career.
JULIA
Enough, Jacob.
JACOB
He’s just a dentist.
JULIA
You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry. Other than tears of happiness when the boys were born. Is that possible?
JACOB
At my grandfather’s funeral.
JULIA That’s true. You wailed.
JACOB
I wept.
JULIA
But remembering it as the exception proves—
JACOB
Nothing.
JULIA
All those repressed tears metastasized.
JACOB
Yes, that’s exactly what the dentist thought the oncologist will think.
JULIA
Throat cancer.
JACOB
Who said anything about cancer?
JULIA
Throat malignancy.
JACOB
Thank you.
JULIA
Is it too soon to observe how poetic that is?
JACOB
Way too soon. I haven’t even been diagnosed, much less gone through super-fun chemo and recovery only to learn that they didn’t get it all.
JULIA You’ll finally have your baldness.
JACOB
I already do.
JULIA
Right.
JACOB
No, really. I went off Propecia. I look like Mr. Clean. Ask Benjy.
JULIA