My-little-brother

My brother has been my built in best friend since the day he was born. The day he was brought him home from the hospital my great aunt Ethel gave me a little rocking chair she had redone for me, she though maybe I would be jealous of my parents bringing a new baby home. Legends has it that I stuffed the rocking chair in the closet andsaid I wanted to hold him.(sorry Ethel) We grew up best friends, surfing on the couch cushions, playing with legos, match box cars, playing on all the same sports teams, hours of badminton tournaments, cray fish hunting andpaling around, we still do.

                                                                                      

 

                                                                                                

He had what he called “the feeling”  from very early on and he needed a hug during and after the feeling was happening. We went to Montessori school partly so that he could find me when he was having “the feeling” and hug me. He was taken to doctors and psychologist throughout his childhood and we were told “the feeling” were anxiety attacks. He was given skills to deal with these attacks and life went on.

He also has a tendency towards obsessive-compulsivedisorder, along with his anxiety attacks anda  language of his own to describe how he was feeling. We would ride around in our 1970’s Pontiac that had only lap belts in the back. He would often look at my belt and if it was twisted in any way he would say “I’m nervous for you to fix that!”  If you really wanted to drive him nuts you could leave the drawers slightly openin the kitchen. He was “super nervous for that” (my dad would pull the drawers out right before he was gonna come home to drive him nuts). Any rugs with fringes had to be combed to perfection. Good thing we had a cleaning person to take care of that, I actually think she was hired to take care of his obsessions.

He has also been a daredevil extraordinaire his whole life and I have always been the very cautious one. When he was learning to ride a bike he took off as fast as he could down the street and I followed. He whipped out big time in some body’s yard,he was covered in blood and laying in their yard because he didn’t really know how to stop, yet. I tried to tell him this before he took off, he said he didn’t care.

He also did a lot of twirling. Two times around and then he would have to go two times back. This was a constant struggle. If he touched something he HAD to touch it again. We ended up in loosing him in New York City one time because he touched a bus stop and broke away from my mom’s hand because he “was nervous to touch it again”. This incident landed him in more psychologist appointments.

Meanwhile we were growing up. We were Bo and Luke Duke, played S.W.A.T watched WWF and the A-team, kicking the soccer ball in the back yard, as we got older shared secrets and were always sharing our lives. 

Later in life decided to live in a duplex, I was upstairs and he and Joy were downstairs. Our animals went in and out of each apartments and our lives were intertwined. While we were living there when his best friend passed away. Watching Kevin throughout Ronnie’s illness was heart breaking. He would often show up in my living room and talk for hours about Ronnie and how sick he was and how scared he was. The day Ronnie died he showed up in tears, tears I could not make go away. Throughout most of his life I have been able to help in some way, not this time. He was navigating new territory and I was along for the ride.

His girlfriend became one of my best friends and we supported each other through everything. One Christmas I receivedahysterical call form Joy “Carter is missing, I thought I tied him up…” (carter is their dog). As I drove over to help I found Joy walking down State Street andcrying, Kevin pacing by their house. I sent them both inside andpromptly foundCarter. We all went on a trip to Ireland. Kevin,  Joy and I split up from my parents for a while. I showed them where I had gone to school in Cork anddrove them to many of the places I had visited. Truth be known Kevin slept and Joy and I drove talked and hiked. We spent New Years Eve in Dublin, Joy and I were laughing, drinking and having fun Kevin was rolling his eyes at us and saying we needed to go back to the hotel. He said “we were out of control”

As we have both traveled through our lives, we have remained extremely close and helped each other through thick and thin.  About a year and half ago I was  supposed to chaperone’s a youth conference in Rochester. I was headed to meet and pick up the kids and Gretchen drove by my brother’s house as she was headed somewhere. She called and said “you need to meet me at your brother’s” I was annoyed and said I was on my way to pick up the kids. She tried to tell me in a few different ways to come without telling me there was an ambulance at Kevin’s house. I was not listening. Then she said ambulance and I raced to his house, left my car running in the middle of the road and went sprinting into the house. Joy was 5 or so months pregnant at that point all that I was thinking was “something is wrong with thatbaby”. I ran in to find police and ambulance people. I couldn’t find Kevin or Joy. I was in complete panic. I was told Kevin had a  seizure andthey were taking him to the hospital. I finally found Joy she melted into a puddle in my arms.  He was belligerent and not cooperating and giving dirty looks to everyone. As they brought him past on the stretcher he winked andsmiled at me. I knew he was aware who I was. Gretchen swept in called my parents, found Joy’s purse and locked up the house. We all spent a terrifying night in the hospital, he was incoherent and restless. They were doing spinal taps andallkinds of tests to find out what had cause his seizure. Was in meningitis? Drugs? Who knows?

 

He has spent the last year and a half continuing having seizures and focal seizures. The doctors have now come to believe the day he and I were jumping on the bed he was 2 and I was 4 and he dove off headfirst and got a concussion (I told him not to, he did it anyway) was the begining of all of this. They believe he has a brain injury that is causing his seizures and consequently”the feeling” were seizures not anxiety. Medicine has come a long way, many people that were diagnose with anxiety attacks are now finding out they are seizures.

First June is Kevin’s birthday. We are all going out to dinner in Rochester to celebrate his birthday. June 2nd he will go in for brain surgery to hopefully stop these seizures once and for all. Anybody that knows me knows Gretchen andIjust spent time in a hospital for her illness. The thought of spending time in a hospital again has been really hard for me. He is expected to be there a week possibly longer, it will all depend. Gretchen was told 2-3 days and that turned into a nightmare of two weeks. I am dreaming about our time living on the 8th floor at Sloan almost every night. My grandma is feeding all of us as much as possible. My mom and dad though they would get their mind off of this by putting their house on the market and building a new one (that madness has ceased thank god). We are all in a holding pattern it feels like deja vu sort of.

I can see when he is going to have a seizure, I worry every time he pauses in a sentence. Yet, I know this surgery will be a new lease on life seizure free. As Gretchen’s surgery was to make her cancer free. It is going to be fine, it is still scary.