The Po Show

Get On, Toughie

I don't know where I picked up that phrase, but I use it mostly while watching college football. I use it when the quarterback, failing to find a receiver, tucks the ball under his arm, puts his head down, and starts ploughing through the defense, making it to that first down through sheer force of will and utter disregard for his personal well-being. "Get on, Toughie," I approvingly say, in praise of that show of true grit.

I say it now to my brother, who is a total fricking trooper. He just had a branching of blood vessels in his BRAIN burst a couple of days ago, and he survived a very invasive surgery through those blood vessels in his BRAIN two days ago, and today he spoke.

He had been opening one eye, and was showing some response to things people said to him. My sister told him I was coming this weekend to see him, and his eye opened wide, in surprise. My mother jokingly said something like, "You know Paula, she has to be a part of everything," and he sort of chuckled, my sister said. Amazing.

Then later my niece called, and said that they were taking him off his ventilator. And when my BIL leaned forward to say something to him, my brother sort of grabbed at his shirt.

"What're you doing? What's wrong?," my BIL asked.

My brother pulled at his shirt again and whispered, "I'm cold."

Holy fuck. That is one tough dude.

I've been reflecting the last couple of days, on toughness. Guys are supposed to be tough, and they spend a lot of time during their lives trying to exhibit their toughness, and I think it takes a toll on them. Because really, how else do you explain the discrepancy in mortality between men and women? What is the DEAL with men? Why don't they last?

My paternal grandmother was a widow for almost 30 years. I find that incredible. Sure, she was much younger than my grandfather, who died before I was born. But come on, *30* years! She lived to be 95.

My maternal grandfather also lived to be 95, but I think he was a real exception. My kids currently have two grandmothers, two GREAT-grandmothers, and one lone living grandfather (who had a heart attack before he was 63). My dad died when he was 66. My mom is almost 80, and a 12 year cancer survivor. My maternal grandmother lived to be 88, and was bedridden for 2 years, and weighed 60 pounds when she finally died. She wasted away, but it took TWO YEARS, for her heart to stop beating and her lungs to stop filling and refilling. Even though she'd lost the will to live, her body was just too tough to give it up. My paternal grandmother survived THREE different kinds of cancer. You want to talk about tough!

But despite the apparent handicap of being male, my brother Kazuyoshi has shown his toughness, in spades. That's right, Kaz, you get on, Toughie.