Tobin Lowe (35:04)
I'm walking my daughter home from school and my wife and daughter and I live in Brooklyn. There's all these smoke shops there and they have these cutesy names like Blazey Susan and yes, we Cannabis. And. And my daughter Una looks up, she's nine years old. She looks up at the name of one of these shops and she goes, dad, what's the good life? And I was like, I don't even know. It's not what I'm doing. But then it was one of those moments where I'm like, oh, I should try to explain drugs as best I can. It's like, well, you know, some people use drugs and, and they sort of make your brain happy, but it's sort of a fake happy. And you don't want to get too happy because then you got to use more drugs to get it as happy as it was the first time. And then the eighth or ninth time, you're in real trouble. Anyway, mom and I use them sometimes, not often. Mostly when we're younger, not your age, like three years older than you are now. But I use prescription drugs. I don't want to, but I have to because I have a serious sleepwalking disorder. The reason I bring up the sleepwalking is that 20 years ago I get diagnosed with REM sleep behavior disorder. And they put me on Klonopin. And I recently went to a new doctor and she's looking at my chart and she goes, you've been on Klonopin for 20 years. And I go, yeah. She goes, all right, that is not what you want to hear when you go to the doctor. I go, are you concerned? She goes, well, do you know the side effects? I go, I don't. I don't know. She goes, depression, loss of memory, poor motor skills. I said, oh, I just thought that was my personality. Like, it's. It's a strange moment in one's life when you realize your personality is side effects, because then I'm just, like, self conscious about all my daily activities. Like, one thing I do every night before bed is my dosage of Klonopin is one and a half milligrams. And so I have to break a pill precisely in half. Yeah. You know, who shouldn't have a precision task like that? Someone with poor motor skills. Because inevitably, I break it in half. And there's like a pile of Klonopin dust on the sink. And I'm depressed and I'm crying into the. Into the dust, and the tears are merging to form a Klonopin sorbet. And then I lick up what I perceive to be a half a milligram, but definitely isn't a half a milligram. So how do I explain that to my daughter? That's the good life. That's. Yeah, that's for good. There are so many things I feel like I can't explain to my daughter. Like, she's nine years old, and it's just getting harder and harder because when they're younger, it sort of doesn't matter. Like, they're an animated bag of rice, and you just got to make sure they stay animated. And then even when they're toddlers, it's a lot of layups. What's that? That's an egg. I'm a genius. But. And my wife doesn't know that much stuff either. She's a poet, I'm a comedian. Together, we're a sculptor. We, you know, we just don't know a lot. And it just started to become very clear to me about a year ago, because I get a call from my mom, and she said, dad was sick this week, and I tried to get him to go to his doctor, but he wouldn't go. And then yesterday, he fell down in the bathtub, and I called 911 and the ambulance took him into the ER and it turned out he had had a stroke. And I get off the phone and I'm alone in my bedroom, and then I go into my closet and I'm just sort of organizing things, and I just start crying alone. And my daughter Una comes in and she goes, dad, what's wrong? And I go, well, grandpa had a stroke. And she says, dad, what's a stroke? And that's when I realized I can't really explain what a stroke is. I took a swing. I mean, I know the bullet points, you know, I go, it's a brain injury and there's bleeding in your brain. And then it was a lot of free association after that. You know, I was like, it's your brain. You know, your brain is bleeding. And I'm not sure where the blood was, but I think it was like in the vessels and they're sort of all in there, you know. But now it's just, you know, it's everywhere, I think. And maybe ask your mom about that or. Or grandpa, but not this week, you know. And so Una goes, is Grandpa Vin gonna be okay? And I go, I don't know. I'm gonna go home tonight. So that night, I drove to Providence, Rhode island, to the hospital. And I take the elevator up to the eighth floor to the stroke unit, and I see my dad. And he's. And he's just a shell of himself. He can't move half of his body and he can't really speak. And the neurologist came in and she goes, vince, we're gonna do a spinal tap. My dad happens to be a retired neurologist, so from the condition he was in, he suggested a type of spinal tap. He goes, guided spinal tap. Which is impressive, but also a good example of how controlling my dad is. I'm watching a half dead neurologist tell a fully alive neurologist how to do her job. I mean, that is next level mansplaining. I mean, that is. It was devastating seeing my dad in this condition because, you know, when I was a kid, I always viewed my dad as larger than life. He was almost like a mythological creature, you know, I just, in a way, I sort of wanted to be my dad because he knew so much stuff, like he was a doctor, and in his free time he got his law degree. Yeah, that's how much he didn't want to be a dad. He was like. He was like, what could I do in these slots of time when I would be parenting? In fairness, we weren't great kids. We always wanted a dad and he wanted another secondary degree. So our goals were at odds. My dad was a doctor, but I didn't really see him that way. You know, know, like every Once in a while, when I was a kid, strangers would come up to me. They'd be like, your dad is a great doctor. And they're like, all right. You know, from Worcester, Massachusetts. That's how everyone talks. Your dad is a great doctor. It's like, we don't none of us fully understand what our parents do when we're kids. Like, it was rare that I saw my dad as a doctor. Like, I remember a couple times, like, I played soccer when I was a kid. I was the goalie, and one time I dove head first for the ball and I got to it, and then the kid on the other team kicked my head. I know with the intensity he had intended for the ball. And I don't know the rest of the story, but I have been told that I hopped up. I was like, I'm good. And they took my word for it, and they kept me in the game. And about 15 minutes later, I just wander off the field onto another field. My teammates ran over. They go, mike, are you okay? And I said to them, and I quote, I go, what are we even doing here? And my dad ran onto the field and he picked me up and he carried me off and he drove me home and he asked me all the questions that doctors ask their patients. What's your middle name? What are the classes you take at school?
