a99kitten's Musings

One year ago today, I was at home watching football. Then I got a call that would forever change my life. My little brother was in a coma, had no brain activity and was not expected to make it, so I needed to get on a plane now. To say I was in shock would be an understatement. I don’t think I had a clear thought for a couple of weeks after that call. Plus at the same time, Storm had just gotten a 2nd tumor removal surgery where they basically removed half of his liver. He was barely just recovering. Really universe?

I went out there. Husband stayed home to take care of Storm at my request. I simply could not stress about Stormy too. It was a rough trip that I made it through kinda sane because of friends and extended family. Friends booked my trip, talked to me, listened to me, flew out there with me. Long distance friends called other local friends who stayed with me while I sat with and said goodbye to my brother.  Friends came to the hospital to be with me and made sure I got out of there when I needed to. My mother in law came down to be with me and went with me to deal with the funeral home paperwork. More friends planned a quiet get-together which acted as a memorial for Jonathan and to help me say goodbye.  They were all friends of mine who I’ve known forever and they knew Jonathan too so we were all pretty shocked.  I truly do not think I could have dealt with that trip without all of them and I hope they all know what they mean to me.

I broke my ankle in April. On April Fools Day. I remember that exactly when I stumbled down the hill that I was thinking to myself that I needed to hike up to Hawk’s Peak and  spread my brother’s ashes. But now a broken ankle kept me away from hiking for a long time. Ironic. Maybe the universe knew I wasn’t quite ready in April.

Not sure I’m ready now. But are you ever really “ready” for this kind of stuff? I think you just suck it up and deal with it. There are still plenty of days I’ll think “Oh, I need to tell Jon that.” It happens in a split second. Kind of like that portion of a second when you wake up from a dream and think it’s real only to realize it’s not. And then I get sad. I miss him. Certain movies, actors, characters in books, songs, whatever still make me think of him. But the intense sadness is getting less. Replaced by melancholy maybe?

But I try and snap out of it quickly by focusing my thoughts elsewhere. You can’t wallow. You can’t always think about it. You need to focus outwards. To other things. Work, hobbies, friends, the best huskies in the world, exercise, favorite TV shows, movies, books, whatever. But continuing to be sad will kill you.

It’s now November 7th. Exactly one year. It snowed this weekend. And it about 19 degrees out.  But with more snow and colder up there I’m sure. But it is sunny. Blue sky day. I always wanted him with me and away from Florida.  I know he would have liked it.

So today seems fitting. But this time, I am going alone. No husband, no friends, not even any huskies. I think I need to say a final goodbye and let him go by myself. Spend a little time at the top of a mountain remembering the fun and good and letting go of the sadness as much as I can.

I just finished Andrew Gross’ recent release “Eyes Wide Open”.

It was good. There were actually a couple parts where I was very stressed out and locked the doors at night! Husband asked “Why do you read books like this?” I don’t know. Same reason I watch “Criminal Minds” I guess?

This book is about a guy trying to figure out why his nephew died. The how he died was obvious. But the why is not so. If you like whodunit/whydunit kind of story lines moving at a pretty quick pace, this is for you. He wrote a couple books with James Patterson as well as a few on his own. I’ve read all of his books and have enjoyed them all. And he sent me a signed book jacket for this book! True, my book is a Kindle book but that was cool.

I will say that I wasn’t sure I would like this one once I started reading it. It starts off (no plot spoilers don’t worry) with a kid (early 20s) seemingly killing himself. We find out that he had drug problems, family problems, family drug problems, not an easy “adult” life. He had an uncle (his dad’s younger brother) who had a good life. Lived on the opposite coast, basically separated himself far from his Dad and brother as their problems became to be more self-inflicted and he didn’t want to deal with them and he was living a great life with his wife, kids, career, etc. But the Uncle wanted to get the nephew away from the Dad/brother and get his life back on track. The kid also might have died because his doctors just plainly sucked.

As I was reading this I was reading parallels into my own life into the story. Just happens sometimes. Why I stay away from certain movies, shows, books, etc. My little brother unexpectedly died last November. By unexpectedly I mean I am still not “over it”. He was on psych drugs over-prescribed by his suck-ass doctors when he never should have been on any. I hate psych drug and doctors. Period. My Dad is an alcoholic. He could have fixed this. He didn’t. Yes, I firmly believe this. I have very little sympathy for him. I wish things were different but they aren’t. But my life, apart from the far away family drama, has been a pretty darn good one. And I did always want to get my brother out of there. I am still, and will always be, firmly convinced that had I gotten him away from the drama and out with me where people and life was normal, he would have done much better in life.

I almost stopped reading the book after the first bit actually. Was too scab-picky. I’m still not “over” stuff. Better I suppose. But still easily moved by the littlest/oddest things. But thankfully the story moved over into serial cult killer storyline and, frankly, I was happy about it. Would rather get freaked out by creep factor than saddened by real life emotions. And plenty of creep factor in this book!!

I remember reading about the Charles Manson stuff when I was young. I loved the Beatles and Helter Skelter was a theme that Manson grabbed onto so I was interested. But I also remember being insanely creeped out by the books and photos of the murders. Manson is the poster child for why the death penalty should be utilized. It’s rather ironic (and disgustingly gross if that could also define ironic here) that Jerry is our Governor once again and Manson is still being kept alive by CA tax dollars.…jackass.

Anyway, that is the story that Andrew Gross drew a parallel to with this story. Crazy. Creepy and great for diverting “real-life” story lines. I actually shut my Kindle one night and put it down. ARGH! Too scary! But picked up again the next night because I needed to know how it ended. :)

The tougher part was that Andrew Gross wrote a postscript on the book. About his own nephew dying of unclear circumstances. Bad drugs by bad doctors. Unexplained and inexcusable BS by doctors misdiagnosing their patient. Back to my own internal sadness about my brother. Hit home that I still have his ashes to hike up to the top of a mountain. Now that my ankle is healed enough to hobble up there, I need to. I am not waiting through another winter of too much snow. But I’m also not picking another location for convenience.

As I type this I have the TV on. I can’t even count the commercials for psych drugs offered for every little single thing. Let’s F up your mental and emotional state to treat aches and pains, smoking, weight loss, PTSD, addiction, etc. It makes me sick.

Anyway, I do recommend this book if you like creepy :)

Two months isn’t really any easier than one month was. Find myself sad before I even realize the date. Maybe it never gets easier. Or better. Or less sad. Maybe you just get used to it. Awesome.

I have proven to myself what I have always known. That I am not really the talk it out, share my feelings kind of girl. I will talk about stuff. And share. To some top-level degree. But never all of what I am feeling or thinking. Move on. Rub some dirt on it. Just say it’s all OK and push through. Eventually it will be. Close enough anyway. But that quality is also what makes me who I am I suppose. I don’t wallow in stuff. I can’t allow it to shut me in. It might slowly kill a part of me inside, but I will get everything done that needs to be done and go on. I might finally break down and cry every once in awhile, but I will not let it stop me from doing what has to be done. Whatever “that” is at the time…work, life, etc.

Not sure if that is “healthy” but the idea of “talking about my feelings” or “how I am feeling/doing” makes me cringe. When people ask, I say fine. What else am I going to say? “Oh, last night I had a complete meltdown with no discernible trigger and cried my eyes out. How are you?” No one really wants to to hear bad or sad stuff anyway. Who wants that? I guess that’s why people pay a lot of money to therapists, they get paid. A lot. To listen to you babble on about your feelings.

I was asked this week if I thought I was an angry or upset person. The question took me a bit my surprise and I was a somewhat insulted by it actually since I have never, ever considered myself that. Quite the opposite really. I’ve stayed pretty damn positive and upbeat though a lot of crap. IMO. (then again crazy people never think they are crazy…)

Do I ever get angry or upset? Of course. But I usually just go rant about something and blow off the steam and it’s done. Isn’t that what you are supposed to do? People who say they never get angry or upset or argue or disagree (or refuse to get that way) are asking for a serial killer moment. Or just lying to themselves. So yes – I am still sad. I think I will be for a long time. I lost my little brother. The only family I was ever really super-duper close to. I think it’s my right to be sad.

But I guess that one question proves that people generally just don’t know me that well. C’est la vie.

…it’s been a month. Still not any easier.

Still can’t talk about it much though. Maybe it would help, maybe not. I don’t know. Can’t talk to my husband about it (truthfully, don’t actually think he cares) and no other family really. And don’t want to spoil anyone else’s mood. No need for that. Like I said, not sure it would help anyway.

Trying to suck it up though.

If you didn’t watch the CBS Football pre-game show today, you should watch this. It’s a touching piece about Cincinnati Bengals’ player Chris Henry and the fact that his family donated his organs after his accident.

My brother died 2 weeks ago. And while I am still sad and miss him tons, especially today, he was a donor. He not only changed people’s (and their families) lives with his kidneys, lungs, pancreas and more, his heart was a match for a 16-year old boy who would have died within 2 days without a new heart. The donor nurse said he was a hero. And I will always remember him this way.

It was weird not talking to him today. Not checking my phone constantly for his call. So be thankful for your family and friends. And for your fluffy critters who make your life better. And for your health.

Be a donor. Truly is a waste to not be.

And watch this clip. It’s short and it’s worth watching. And it’s important.

One week ago today, I held my little brother’s hand for the last time. Saw him for the last time. Technically that is when he died. In reality, he died on Sunday morning, November 7th. But his death certificate says November 9th. He was kept on life support after 2 heart attacks. His EEG showed no brain activity. And many other tests they ran and re-ran for us showed no life, as I would define life anyway. He was 27.

There are a ton of things I could say about him. About how much I loved him. He was my “little dude”. We were many years apart. But even when he grew to a foot taller than me, I called him that (when he’d ask why the heck I still did that, I’d always answer because you always will be.) I spoiled him whenever I could and told him he was a dumbass when he needed it. I took care of him and raised him for a year when he was 10 between my mom getting sick with Alzheimer’s and my Dad changing his life to take care of her/him. I should have kept him. I will always think that. He and I were very close. No matter how well he was doing or what trouble he got into, I loved him the same. He was my brother.

But I can’t think, let alone type, any of that right now. Makes me cry too much. But I do think letting things out is healthy and bottling up emotions are bad. And maybe writing about it will make me cry a little less. I’ve been barely keeping it together since Sunday when I got the call from Florida that he was in the ER. And that’s very unlike me. I couldn’t even make my flights as I stared at the computer unable to comprehend what I was doing. Or when I saw him lying there, hooked up to a bunch of machines that were keeping him alive. Or when I had to sign all of the paperwork for his organ donor procedures. Or as I held his hand up until they told me it was time for him to go. That is a crushing sadness that I had never experienced. And never want to again. Then as a next of kin you need to suck it up and get to make all the decisions and take care of all the details, go to the nursing home and tell your sick father that his son died, and deal with his fiancee and friends, and the funeral home. And his stuff. When all you want to do is curl up in bed and cry.

Luckily, I had friends there for me. Even though I suck at ever, ever asking for help from anyone – I needed it. Good friends made my travel arrangements when I couldn’t confront it, flew out with me, stayed with me, came to visit me and sat there with me as I said goodbye. They drove me around, helped make arrangements with me, called and brought other friends together for me, told me funny stories to get my mind out of sadness even if for an hour or 2, and sometimes just sat there quietly with me as I cried. I will never forget that. And appreciate it more than they could ever know.

I asked my husband to stay behind to take care of Storm. He just had surgery and wasn’t doing all that well and the last thing I could handle was anything happening to him too. So he stayed behind and took care of the huskies and sent me pictures of them all the time. His Mom flew out to be with me too and she was awesome. You will never meet a more perfect mom. I hope she fully realizes how much she helped.

His fiancee and friends told me he always talked about me. About how much he loved me and how close we were. That I was his best friend and kinda like his Mom. While it did make me happy to hear, it made me cry. Still does. It’s not fair. And while I have always known life isn’t fair – this is beyond F’ed up. His fiancee gave me his Star Wars toys. She said he would have wanted me to have them. I put them in my closet. I cannot deal with them right now. Along with his papers and some pictures. I know that some day I will be able to look at it all. But not now. Right now I get up and walk the huskies which is the best part of my day. Then I go to work. When I come home I do chores to stay busy and then stare at the TV as I try to go to sleep. I find it hard to go to sleep now. I have to concentrate on counting sheep so that my mind doesn’t start going with other stuff. It actually works if you are tired enough. I know it will get better. But it’s just not right now. I used to think I could handle anything in the world as long as nothing happened to my little brother. Just not fair.

He chose to be a donor. I remember when we talked about it. Him asking me my opinion on it. Him laughing when I said yes I am a donor but man – they better try hard. One thing to know – even if you choose to be a donor, if you are not dead and they get you hooked up to life support, your family can still make/change that decision for you. So make sure they are on board with your decision. And can deal with the paperwork. It’s not really all that easy. Not at all. Analytically I knew he was gone. But seeing him there looking like he was sleeping, holding his hand, remembering our conversation not 2 days prior about his upcoming wedding and the Star Wars figures he was collecting made me want him back and to save him no matter what. Having to kiss his forehead goodbye and know it was the last time I would ever see him. But I knew he wasn’t there to save.

Thursday morning, the nurse called me to tell me that in addition to his various parts going to people in need, he was truly a hero and they wanted me to know it and be proud. A 16 year old boy who hadn’t found a match and would have died in a day or 2 without a new heart, was a match for my brother. So he saved a 16 year old boy. Allowed him to go on and live a full life. Hopefully one full of promise and good. I always said he had a good heart. He would really like that.