I have started two different blogs. I have tried to get it right- convey it all. Convey it none.
Paint a positive picture. Paint the emotion.
I have failed.
The bottom line is, my brother is ill.
I have spoken before of how he is my champion, my heart, and the glue that holds me together when times are tough. He is my baby's godfather and was her baby whisperer- holding her in his big arms and making the incessant crying cease when she was no new to this world. He is my common sense, my game planner, and all things wonderful.
And he is sick.
Two days ago, he suffered a moderate stroke that was precipitated by a minor heart attack. Did you know that my brother is only 2 years older than me? 2.5 to be exact. He turned 34 last week.
Currently, we are sharing a room noisy with the silence. It is quiet with the ticking of the wall clock, the swelling of the blood pressure cuff, and the monitors readjusting every few seconds. As it can be, he is as well as can be expected. Within inches of him, I want to put my hand on his wrist- even if it is the wrist he can't feel. I want to take it away- the inability to feel his left side, the pain and the fear of the unknown.
He is resting in the Neuro ICU with an old high school friend as his nurse. I guess that is a pretty good advantage of being home town. And he is loved.
So very loved. This hospital has been a revolving door of friends, family, clients, former coworkers, and elementary school friends who have not seen him in years. It is overwhelming at the people that have relayed their love, prayers, and concern for this man- my brother.
I will write more later, I promise. I will update on his progress. But at this moment, I am trying to center my thoughts. On the outside, I am composed. Phone calls to Husband reveal a different side- this side. These jumbled thoughts and teary eyes gather a level of placidness as we hang up the long distance call and the three sets of little eyes look at me with questions and love.
Only one of those three sets knows; LMC and I had a conversation about Uncle Brother. She packed her doctor's ears [stethoscope] and told me she would make Uncle Brother feel all better as she checked my heart over and over. "Sounds good, Ma-Mee. Berry strong."
It's strong with love and heavy with fear. It's strong with faith. And so is Brother's.