serious as a heart attack

I have recently been reminded how every experience in our lives can impact our lives as artists.

I am reaching the mid-point of directing Ibsen's Ghosts.

And, suddenly, I learn that my mother is being rushed to the hospital with a heart attack.

Drop everything and rush to the hospital. Cancel rehearsal for that night, and the next. As it happens, a 3 day break has been scheduled after that, so we will see...

At the hospital, helping my mom fill out paperwork-- although do we call it paperwork any more? It's all on the computer.

We are asked about her durable power of attorney for health care. Which she has prepared; of course it's not with her.

We weren't expecting this.

Mom tells me where the paperwork is. I fetch the durable power of attorney (POA) the next day and bring it to the hospital.

The first person named to hold the POA is my mom's significant other, now deceased. The nurse asks me to cross out his name, write "deceased," and initial.

I do.

I am the next named person to hold the POA.

The nurse takes the POA and adds it to my mom's chart.

A few minutes later, while my mom is trying to nap, the nurse calls me into the hall.

She points out the section dealing with "DNR"-- Do Not Resuscitate. Under certain conditions, carefully spelled out conditions, it is my mom's wish that she be allowed to die. And, in those circumstances in which she is unable to speak for herself, I am the one who is to speak for her.

The good news, in this episode, is that my mom is home, recuperating.

But at that moment, Helen Alving's pain and wrenching moment of decision with her son Oswald is no longer so melodramatic to me. It is deeply serious.

As serious as a heart attack.