In November, Mark, my youngest brother, got sick. Some relatively minor skin injuries got infected, and made him sick, but he thought he could just tough it out and he'd feel better soon. He refused a ride to an emergency room from one of my bandmates, but then a day or so later finally ralized he needed help and asked me to call an ambulance.
He spent a while -- I forget how many days -- at Bon Secours hospital, then was discharged to Fayette Health and Rehab to continue treatment with antibiotics and, once he was well enough, undergo physical therapy. he had lost a significant percentage of his body weight and looked old.
Physical therapy helped, though he still looked awfully thin. After a while he stopped needing the cane they gave him. After physical therapy ended, he was sure he'd be discharged and week, maybe any day. But that kept not happening, and we didn't know why not.
A couple weeks ago, they took him back to Bon Secours for some cardiac testing -- the infection in November had reached his heart, and apparently they wanted to make sure there was no permanent damage left. He was sure that they'd be discharging him soon. Last week he got permission to leave the rehab facility for a few hours to walk home and pick up some mail, and then walk to his bank. He asked his doctor when he could be discharged, and told me the doctor said, "You could be discharged now." He asked the social worker about being discharged, and told me she said, "Oh, not this week -- I'm too busy."
So a day or two after leaving with permission to come grab his mail and hit his bank, he left again without waiting to be discharged, and came home. He'd regained enough of his weight that he looked reasonably healthy, though still a little small for his clothes. He complained about being out of shape and long walks tiring him out more quickly than he was used to, and his knees really not liking all the stairs since he hadn't had access to stairs since physical therapy ended however long ago, but he seemed in decent shape otherwise. He went out for some groceries, and a television and computer from a pawn shop, and seemed to be settling into old patterns (which included our sometimes not seeing each other for a couple days in a row because our sleep cycles differ).
This morning Fayette Health and Rehab phoned me, not knowing who I was, because they'd found my number in his room, and wanted to know whether I knew his whereabouts. When I got the message, I texted Mark about it, but he did not reply. So when I got up, I tapped on his bedroom door but got no response.
When I opened the door to see whether he was even there, he was there, slumped over, sitting on the edge of the bed, with rather a lot of his skin being blue or purple. Unresponsive ... cold to the touch.
For the next few hours EMTs, police, and the medical examiner
were in and out of the house -- one kind and patient officer
sticking around while waiting for each person or team to arrive
and do their thing. Guillaume, whom I need to get around to
telling you about, hid under the bathtub. Around half past two
in the afternoon the medical examiner and my brother's body left
the house, and sometime after that I nibbled cold pizza for
breakfast, then my bandmate Karen, who had already been planning
to come over and bring me my prescriptions, showed up. Not long
after that,
dmk and her
mother, who had already been planning to visit, showed up (and
took me downtown for Thai food). So I have not been alone, and I
have been fed good food. I am grateful for those things. And
Guillaume finally did come out from under the bathtub after I
came back from dinner and he was sure I was alone.
So far (and with the aforementioned help), I am okay. Still numb. At some point soon, the full impact will hit me and I will feel worse, and I will phone or text some folks or I'll play ADOM for several hours to run away from my own brain for a spell. So far, I am okay, even if 3 AM will probably suck. And after I stop being okay, eventually I will be okay again.
Though my youngest brother will still be dead. And that will continue to suck.
I'll be attempting to post a version of this to Facebook, but Facebook has not been working very well for me lately -- crashing the iPad app or my web browser after scrolling a short way, or failing to load my feed at all -- so it may take me a few tries.
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And now we are three
Fid
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May you find some peace in the good memories you have and that they will get you through the coming days.
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It's just a lot extra worse tat they're sucking your personal moose.
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As far as that social worker, Ms. "Oh, not this week - I'm too busy." (emphasis mine) - that scowl in the icon photo is for her. She either needs some help or a change in employment status, whichever it will take for her to realize that "I'm too busy" is sometimes not the correct answer.
Condolences
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Oh my god, I'm so sorry
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OH, well, That sucks.
I don't have siblings, and so I can not know what you're going through. My best wishes for you, and may your periods of not-okay be gentle and easy to bear.
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I hope for the best for you and your loving ones.