Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant?: A Memoir

When Chast arrived at the emergency room, she found her mother in bed and her father at her bedside. Time dragged on as they waited for a room to open up. Many hours later, Elizabeth was finally moved to a room, and Chast took her father back to their apartment and slept on their sofa bed. The next morning, George asked Chast where Elizabeth was. When she told him Elizabeth was at the hospital, he was shocked. Chast had no idea her father was “so far gone [...] His symptoms of senility had seemed pretty low-key” (71). An illustration on Page 71 shows him cheerfully whistling on the street, unaware of his wife’s hospitalization. Realizing the extent of his condition, Chast decides to take him to her home in Connecticut.

Elizabeth was diagnosed with acute diverticulitis and remained in the hospital while George stayed with Chast. His senility pushed her to the limit: She struggled with his confusion and repetitive questions. He didn’t recognize a hairbrush and continually asked about Elizabeth and their bankbooks—their collection of canceled and uncanceled bankbooks from the 1960s. His condition was more manageable in the morning and worsened toward evening, a phenomenon known as “sundowning.” George became paranoid, convinced that neighbors would “break into their apartment and STEAL THEIR BANKBOOKS” (77). An illustration on Page 77 depicts George as a nervous wreck, shivering and surrounded by speech bubbles filled with questions about the bankbooks.

They visited Elizabeth in the hospital every day, and each time they stopped at the apartment to check on the bankbooks. George also had other anxieties: He slept with his wallet under his pillow and perpetually worried that someone had stolen his beloved Channel 13 tote bag. Chast tried to calm him but was frustrated, reflecting that her parents were supposed to be taking care of her, not the other way around. Once, in a moment of exasperation, she snapped at him: “LISTEN: If you don’t pull yourself together, I am going to FREAK THE FUCK OUT!!!” (80). She acknowledges that caring for her parents didn’t bring out the best in her. However, she recalls that despite the challenges, there were humorous moments, such as when George refused to buy a red jacket because it was the color of communism. Chast found mealtimes especially difficult, since George struggled with utensils and was particular about his food, disliking anything too sweet, too rich, or fried. Chast found the situation frustrating but mostly sad. Her father seemed lost and disoriented without her mother. After two weeks, the hospital discharged Elizabeth, and Chast looked forward to their reunion.

The night before Elizabeth’s release from the hospital, Chast took her father back to the apartment, and a neighbor offered to stay with him for the night. At the hospital, Chast arranged for an ambulette to bring her mother back to the apartment. The process involved significant paperwork, and from that day on Chast kept all information related to her parents in a dedicated notebook, including social security numbers, doctor contacts, elder care agency details, and more: “Dealing with all this ‘real-world’, official, and essentially bureaucratic stuff combined two of my least-favorite feelings: BOREDOM. ANXIETY” (90). Once Elizabeth was back home, George was overwhelmed with relief, as Chast conveys on Page 92 via an illustration of him tearfully exclaiming “ELIZABETH!!!” in wobbly capital letters. Elizabeth was very weak, and they got her into bed before Chast headed home, her mind filled with anxious thoughts about whether she should leave them alone.

The next morning, Chast called to check on them. Her father told her they had a difficult morning because Elizabeth fell while making breakfast. Chast offered to arrange for outside help, but her mother insisted, “We don’t need any help!” (96). Chast continued to bring them food regularly, and neighbors occasionally helped with shopping, but it was not enough. They finally agreed to have groceries delivered, yet the chaos and grime in the house continued to worsen. On Page 97, the author reproduces a poem written by her mother lamenting their dull, uneventful life, filled only with naps and waiting for Chast’s visits. Over time, George’s dementia worsened, and Elizabeth fell twice more. On Page 98, two panels depict the couple on the phone with Chast, each complaining about the other’s deteriorating condition. Chast eventually mentioned assisted living but met strong resistance. One day, Elizabeth fell again. George, unable to lift her, sought help but got lost in the building. After this incident, even her parents agreed that it was time for a change.

Chast took her parents to see an end-of-life facility where a friend of Elizabeth’s lived. The trip was exhausting for George and Elizabeth, and Chast found the place sad, describing it as having “torn carpet; dirty, flaking walls; and lots of OLD, OLD, OLD, OLD people” (103). Back home, Chast felt helpless and overwhelmed, reflecting that once you pass your physical peak, “the falling-off is incremental” (106).

A week later, she found a facility near her home in Connecticut that was nice, clean, and—though ridiculously expensive—convenient for her. Her parents agreed to a trial stay and packed overnight bags. It was February 23, 2007, and Chast narrates that this is the last time they ever saw their apartment.