I would like to dedicate this book to my brain tumor. I understand this may confuse, well, everyone, but I do feel the need express my sincere gratitude to that pear-shaped mass that occupied the most precarious spot in my head and almost killed me. After all, my brain tumor is why you are reading this and why I got to be exposed to so many incredible humans.
So here goes. Thank you, Brain Tumor. That seems formal. Do I even have to include the word “brain”? It’s the only tumor I’ve ever had. It’s not as if half of you are thinking, “Which tumor?” Anyway, thank you, Brain Tumor. Without you, I never would have seen a side of humanity I thought only existed in the sappiest of Hallmark television movies. If you weren’t growing at the base of my brain stem, I never would have met the genius Dr. Joshua Bederson, MD, who saved my life, and Leslie Schlachter, PA-C, who coordinated the entire Department of Neurosurgery at Mount Sinai. I would never have been exposed to the motley crew of hospital characters like Dr. Robert Rothrock, MD, who has a soap opera name but is too good-looking for a soap opera and no one would believe he’s really a doctor anyway so he wouldn’t get cast. Speaking of great names, Brain Tumor (Can I call you BT for short?), you brought me the brilliant Dr. Johanna T. Fifi, MD, who together with the fabulous anesthesiologist Dr. Patricia S. Brous, MD, performed the almost embolization that revealed I also had fibromuscular dysplasia (FMD), which led me to meet the great Dr. Jeffrey Olin, DO, who happens to be the principal investigator and director of care and research of this very rare disease. Thank you, Brain Tumor, for landing me in an ICU where I fell head over heels (and flat on my back) for Joseph “Joe the Nurse” Waugh, RN. Thank you also for compromising my breathing and swallowing so that I could develop a life-threatening pneumonia and wake up to find Dr. Eric P. Neibart, MD (infectious disease specialist), standing over me in his bow tie telling me to “get up, get better, and get back to quality of life.” You also gave me the pleasure of working with Dr. Glen B. Chun, MD (pulmonology), who will always have a place in my heart and deep in my lungs. Thank you also for exposing me to the stellar team of Dr. Mark Courey, MD, and Leanne Goldberg, MS, CCC-SLP (otolaryngology), who were there from me croaking through a tracheotomy to singing scales up to a high C(?) after a palatal adhesion surgery. (Great job on fixing my innie neck button scar, Dr. Courey.)
Because of you, Brain Tumor. Can I call you Tumor de Cabeza? I know that means “tumor of the head” in Spanish, but what a cool nickname, right? Either way, thanks for getting me to the point where I actually looked forward to having a PEG feeding tube inserted in my stomach like, well, a tube being inserted in your stomach. After not eating for two weeks, having an anesthesiologist for that procedure named Dr. Joshua Hamburger, MD, was a hysterical touch.
Without you, my dear Tumor, I would never have received the amazing care of all the physical, occupational, speech and swallow therapists and Visiting Nurse Service of New York, and I never would have adopted into my family the incredible Bruce Macvitte (RN, IMDB), whose talents and skills as a nurse are outnumbered only by his appearances on Law & Order. Thanks for bringing Lida Ahmady, Lac, and Daniel Camburn, Lac, over to my house to give me acupuncture and nutritional and wellness therapy. Thanks for making Sara Hester come over twice a week to give me Pilates-based physical therapy that made me even stronger than I was before.
Thank you, Tumie (I can call you Tumie? That’s cute, right?), for showing me that we picked the right schools for my children because their communities took care of me and my kids while I was recovering from you, especially Concepcion Alvar, Donna Corvi, Cathy Callender, and all the faculty, staff and parent body at Marymount, and of course Nancy Schulman, Rachel Gordian, Jena Krueger, Kim Turner, Roberto Baldeschi-Balleani, Alexandra Gerba, Libby Hixon, Eric Ogden, Avery Barnes, and all the faculty, staff, and parent body at Avenues. Thanks for the home helpers that made the staff at Palace of Versailles in 1789 seem small (Kathrina Anunciacion, Eve Novak, Abby Diette, Kira Koffskey-Smith, Val, Anita, Melanie, and Victoria).
And Tumes, Can I call you Tumes? Who am I kidding? You can’t answer. Well, I hope you can’t. That would be really scary. Anyway, thanks for giving me such street cred with the holy people in my life such as Deacon Paul Vitale, his amazing wife Helen Vitale, Monsignor Donald Sakano, Father Jonathan Morris, the one and only Sister Mary Doolittle, and His Eminence Timothy Cardinal Dolan, who actually called me from Lourdes, France, and gargled holy water for me when my throat was paralyzed (it worked, by the way, Cardinal; now I can’t shut up).
Tum-Tum, you showed me that my friends and family are saints on earth. Dr. John Broderick, MD, who gave me a plan; Shana Broderick my BFF; Karen Bergreen, who is funny and wonderful; Tricia Heine, who made me feel strong and beautiful; Danielle Blumstein, who is my work wife and taught me about proper manners and to always keep my aplomb; Sky McGilligan, who is not a girl; Tony Hale, who sat with Jim during the scariest time in his life; Gina Larucci, Dr. Laury Cuddihy, and Samantha Sheeler, for the best non-food gift packages; Susan Isaacs, for the best customized hospital workbook; Sarina Ogden, for taking care of Katie; Ali Lesch, for hanging out with Weezie in the ELC; and all the people who sent food and made Jim even fatter. Thanks for allowing me to grow closer to my extended family, Marita Haggerty, Beth Haggerty Steers, the entire Haggerty Family (including Anne in heaven), and Tina Langley Walsh. Thanks for finally revealing to me why being one of nine siblings makes perfect sense and how lucky I am to have Dom (Papa Dom) Noth, Louise (Mama Weezie) Noth, Felicia Noth, Paul Noth, Vincent Noth, Jessica Noth, Danielle Noth, Patrick Noth and Emilea Wilson Noth, Maria Noth, Michelle Noth, Elizabeth Noth, Rudy Behrens (who #tookaNoth), and also Nora and Trey Fitzpatick (who looks like a Noth) in my life.
Also thank you, Brain Tumor, for bringing me to this book through Simon Green, my agent, who told me to write a memoir instead of How to Organize a Laundry Room; Nancy Rose, Isaac Dunham, and Liza Montesano, for having me sign a legal document I didn’t read; my great level-headed manager Alex Murray; Rob Greenwald, the publicist who made people care; Tina Constable and Tammy Blake, who believed in me; Eric Vitale, who stopped me from total hysteria as I wrote it; and all of the people at Grand Central Publishing: Suzanne O’Neill my editor, who I called and emailed three hundred times a day; Linda Duggins, who helped get eyes on it; Albert Tang, who let me have creative freedom with design; and Carolyn Kurek, the production editor who was clearly sent from the Holy Spirit.
And most of all, I’d like to thank you, Big T, for showing me that I made the right choice in marrying my best friend, Jim Gaffigan, who I partnered with in our most successful productions so far: Marre, Jack, Katie, Michael, and Patrick.