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This has been a month
It has been one thing after another this month.
We lost Bear the first Saturday of April. One of my uncles had an experimental eye surgery that has been successful, but could have left him blind. Then my step brother had a seizure the second Saturday of the month.
While they were working on him they discovered a brain bleed. To combat the pressure on his brain they drilled out a piece of his skull. He was talking on Sunday morning and being his feisty self to the nurses… then he had a heart attack Sunday afternoon and hasn’t been conscious since. They’ve found 3 blood clots, including one by his speech center. His heart has stopped 4 times in 2 days, but he is a fighter and he’s come back each time (obvs with the help of his awesome doctors). They are currently operating on him to take care of as much of the blood clot mess as they safely can– I have a lot of faith in his 5 neurologists.
It is terrifying that he has 5 neurologists. I call them Keith’s gaggle, for lack of a proper term for a group of neurologists. Him having a gaggle of doctors is funny, makes the reality a little easier to cope with.
Most of my thoughts are on the past these past few days. We shared a lot of firsts growing up, and a storm of adventures horrifying to those who have never grown up in a house of addicts. For all the toxicity we were exposed to, though, there are a hell of a lot of good memories.
The one that cycles most through my mind is the summers I was 9 & 10, hanging out on the roof above the deck at the apartment our parents shared. It was months of watching the twins horse around on the roof, me timidly perched on the window ledge, jealous of the twins bravery, desperately wanting to join but feeling so afraid of falling. But Keith harassed me, would not stop until I joined him and his brother. Once I was over the edge there was no going back.
I feel like I’m back on that ledge, 23 years later, only I’m doing everything I can do to get Keith to grab my hand and be pulled to safety.
I admit I’ve been jealous of Keith over the years- he’s the proud father of 3 beautiful children, he knows who he is, he’s fought through so much of the bullshit we were mired in growing up.
No one deserves this, especially someone who has fought and beat so many of their demons. But life is not about fairness, it is about survival, and at the end of the day that is the only thing I can cling to.
All I can do for Keith is pray, take care of the family, and hope like hell for a perfect storm of medical miracles to get him through this.
April has had enough fucked up things happen. It is time for some birthday magic to kick in… any time now….
We lost Bear the first Saturday of April. One of my uncles had an experimental eye surgery that has been successful, but could have left him blind. Then my step brother had a seizure the second Saturday of the month.
While they were working on him they discovered a brain bleed. To combat the pressure on his brain they drilled out a piece of his skull. He was talking on Sunday morning and being his feisty self to the nurses… then he had a heart attack Sunday afternoon and hasn’t been conscious since. They’ve found 3 blood clots, including one by his speech center. His heart has stopped 4 times in 2 days, but he is a fighter and he’s come back each time (obvs with the help of his awesome doctors). They are currently operating on him to take care of as much of the blood clot mess as they safely can– I have a lot of faith in his 5 neurologists.
It is terrifying that he has 5 neurologists. I call them Keith’s gaggle, for lack of a proper term for a group of neurologists. Him having a gaggle of doctors is funny, makes the reality a little easier to cope with.
Most of my thoughts are on the past these past few days. We shared a lot of firsts growing up, and a storm of adventures horrifying to those who have never grown up in a house of addicts. For all the toxicity we were exposed to, though, there are a hell of a lot of good memories.
The one that cycles most through my mind is the summers I was 9 & 10, hanging out on the roof above the deck at the apartment our parents shared. It was months of watching the twins horse around on the roof, me timidly perched on the window ledge, jealous of the twins bravery, desperately wanting to join but feeling so afraid of falling. But Keith harassed me, would not stop until I joined him and his brother. Once I was over the edge there was no going back.
I feel like I’m back on that ledge, 23 years later, only I’m doing everything I can do to get Keith to grab my hand and be pulled to safety.
I admit I’ve been jealous of Keith over the years- he’s the proud father of 3 beautiful children, he knows who he is, he’s fought through so much of the bullshit we were mired in growing up.
No one deserves this, especially someone who has fought and beat so many of their demons. But life is not about fairness, it is about survival, and at the end of the day that is the only thing I can cling to.
All I can do for Keith is pray, take care of the family, and hope like hell for a perfect storm of medical miracles to get him through this.
April has had enough fucked up things happen. It is time for some birthday magic to kick in… any time now….
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I suspect it's a ganglion of neurologists, but a ganglion moves by gaggling, right?
Best wishes to you and family.
(balls, sorry, it's feyandstrange, logged in on my fanfic account.)