My younger brother passed 5/14/2025
My younger brother passed a year ago today. He was two years younger and as long as I can remember my mom was telling me that it was my job to look out for my baby brother.
I had a reoccurring nightmare when I was young that he and I were left alone Ina truck and s man with monster like facial features came and stole him away while I sat paralyzed in fear.
I thought it was real, a memory, and I would check his bed to see that he was there.
15 years ago Icame home after having lived in more desirable areas after my brother had been injured in an accident. I made my life here to be near to him and his children.
When he started having symptoms, he went to the hospital several times over a period of 18 months. They told him that his problem was that he was obese. They blamed his diabetes. He never told me that he even went. He was a quiet guy. He wasn't pushy. He accepted it and went home.
He called me one day at work and said call an smbulance. I can't use my right side and I don't know how to dial a number. I pushed your name at the top of my phone. Called 911 but I got to the house first.
He was regaining use of his right side, but my brother who has always had only a few words to say was chattering like a monkey — talking and taking and talking. I knew something was desperately wrong.
The ambulance csme, didn't see anything wrong. They announced they weren't a taxi service and they didn't think he needed ansmbulance. We could just take him in. I suggested they load him up yo avoid being sued if something went wrong before we got him to the hospital. They did.
When we got to the hospital. The EMTs went in and talked to the nurse. Afterward, she wouldn't let anyone into the interview but my brother. Then they sat him back in the waiting room. They decided it wasn't an emergency. I spoke to my sister who was a Dr. She said they should be doing a CT of his head.
I loaded him up and took him to another hodpital. They immediately took him in to do a CT. He had renal cancer metastasized to his brain and was bleeding out. They took him to another hospital by helicopter. He was stabilized. Told he likely had a few weeks to a few months.
He decided he didn't want to fight it but was persuaded to do immunotherapy or that he might find himself alive and stuck in paralyzed body. He fought for 18 months. He was pronounced in remission. He was going to live. Two weeks later he was dead.
I ask myself, what if I had done this or done that. I am not at peace. The only thing I have peace about is the loving care that I gave him. I was able to quit my job and so I did. I spent at least 5 days per week with him. He knew he could rely on me.
I’m angry. I'm angry about the care he received. Even after he had been diagnosed with terminal cancer an ER doctor lectured him that his problem was that he was obese. I'm angry he died first. I am angry at myself that I didn't get the doctors in the rehab to treat his infection faster. I suspected he had an infection based on his behavior and went to the nurses several times asking that he be tested.
Today is a hard day.