Robert Becker

My brother Andy called on New Years day to say our friend Robert Becker died of a massive heart attack at 3am Florida time. He was 48. I can still see him at age 4, a blonde haired, skinny thing with a big smile and a penchant for mischief, running around in the summer at the Jewish Center in Long Beach where we went every afternoon to swim and hang out while our moms played Maj Jong. So many moons ago. He leaves his beautiful 15 year old daughter Hailey and wife Anne-Marie. He's the little brother of Mark, one of my brother Andy's oldest and best friends. I hung out with them at the Strawberry Music Festival for years, before we all had kids and were foot loose and free.

I've had my face off with a serious illness that threatens to take me out of the game, but I was lucky. He was not aware that his heart was working too hard or his arteries were clogged or whatever happened. He didn't have a chance. One minute toasting his brother and friends in California long distance and a couple of hours later, dead. It is so final. It is hard to accept. No opportunity to say we love him, that he is one of the funniest guys on the planet, especially when in the same room with Andy, Dale and Mark. He is the first one my age in our circle to die. Not what anyone would want the prize for.

I am plagued by fear of a recurrence. I dutifully take my tamoxifen every night and suffer through hot flashes that ruin a good night's sleep and force me to strip down to my undershirt on a plane home from Chicago. Thankfully it the undershirt was black and I had a scarf to cover up with as I made my way to the head. I have sensations, some painful and others not, in my breast that makes me wonder what's going on in there, residual reminders of two surgeries. Now I have pain in my chest that feels like a boot is standing on me, a feeling in the center of my core, behind my heart chakra. In the same vicinity that the three cancer tumors were removed. The pressure is back with a vengence. I swam a mile twice last week and then again yesterday, and afterwards and all today I have been uncomfortable. I did some deep breathing and yoga movements before dinner and it is definitely my lungs. Last year I had a chest x-ray and it was clear. The diagnosis is stress and anxiety, which isn't hard to believe, I certainly have a ton of stress in my life. Plus the fear that it really is a hidden tumor or pleurisy or something horrible that hasn't been revealed yet. I keep trying to breath into it, meditate, dance, relax, take things in stride, make decisions that will make my life easier, yet the pain in the center of my being remains. I need to find the balance of what is in my control and what isn't, and "the wisdom to know the difference."