Sadly, my nephew, Adam Zaitz, lost his valiant battle early Saturday morning, three weeks from diagnosis. By the time he was rushed to the hospital, Acute Myeloid Leukemia with Mutation had wracked his body, and despite his incredible will to live, this powerful disease won the war. “A horrific disease” is how it was described by one of his doctors. My sister, Michele, and brother-in-law, Ira, faced the inevitable outcome with all the deepest love a parent has and said goodbye with incredible tenderness. My sister, Mindy, flew up from Florida last week, and the four of us were present as the tubes and machines were removed so Adam could be at peace as he took his final breath.
Robert Wood Johnson University Hospital in New Brunswick, New Jersey, was incredible from the minute Adam was transported there July 5th. The care from the nursing staff and physicians gave us great confidence that if there was anything that could be done to save Adam, they would provide it. And as he fought, they fought with him. However, when it became obvious that Adam could no longer muster the energy necessary to fight another day, they were with us as the end presented itself. The Chaplain stayed with us, every Nurse, Nurse Practitioner, Aide and Physician who took care of Adam came to the room to say goodbye to him and offer their most sincere condolences to all of us, hugging and supporting us with their strength and sadness…how do they deal with this every day? And the ICU sent up a table of beverages and cookies as we waited for the inevitable. Their kindness will always be in my heart, our appreciation indescribable.
As bereaved as we are, we have stories to share with each other, and joy to remember. We are a family of love, we are a family of support, and most of all, we are a family that holds up each other. At one point, during the few weeks of my daily visits to Adam, my daughter, Emily, asked me what “I want to be?” during this period of time, and I told her “the best I can be to Michele and Ira.” “Then be that!” she said. And I have tried my best to be that. But I know it is only a small thread of the fabric of this devastating moment in their lives. They have so much in front of them, so many times the empty chair at the table will fill their hearts with unbearable sadness.
Please do something loving and caring for those you love today, this week, this month and every day. In the end, and I can make this promise to you, NOTHING ELSE MATTERS…believe me, please believe me…
