93. Rest In Peace..

My brother was doing well. His cancer was finally going into remission. His cell count and the numbers were changing for the better. My brother had overcome so much. He cheated death many times over. He was a fighter. He always explained his sicknesses like a game. A game he would win! He was a competitive player like me. We always had to be on top. Be the winner of any game we played. To him, he had incorporated his cancers and illnesses like a game. He would win and he damn well was! He astonished us with all he had overcome. He had beat it all. He had the war wounds to prove it to. His bones were still brittle from the multiple myeloma cancer. His pain from the transplant and losing a leg, part of an ear and his iron rod transplant on his left side to strengthen his bones. Without the rod, his brittle bones would not allow him to walk without his body literally breaking. The most painful of all his surgeries by far. He spent do much of his last five years in hospital from flatlining to transplants to numerous surgeries and dialysis. This man, two hundred and fifty pounds solid muscle, whom loved to travel, golf, fish, outdoor sporting and full of life to this brittle man whom hardly weighed one hundred and twenty pounds soaked. He was alive though. A night would not go by that he didn’t call me and we would discuss the case and our next strategy against the cousin which of ours. He told me one night, that it was the only thing helping his mind and his pain. He became more vengeful then I was. He didn’t care how much it would cost to see her behind bars. We hit the jackpot again with evidence. My brother secretly hired a detective that dug up some amazing evidence. Even better than mine. When the results came back after paying for an inquiry to the detectives findings, we were shocked!

Another cousin whom I mentioned earlier in my blog that was like a sister and very close to me growing up had slowly become a stuck up. To this day I don’t understand what happened to her. She was married to a City of Calgary Police officer.

We had evidence that over a three year period, her husband had gone into my file and got information that was private. The judge ordered no one in my file but whom were handling my case back then. Yet, here I found him accessing my file on numerous occasions. Taking the information back to my cousin and all the relatives we no longer spoke to including my cousin we were suing. Please tell me your kidding me now? When I saw that, I could not believe the audacity he had doing that. Did he think I would never look? Never request my file with police? My brother was angered beyond control. He wanted the lawyers to go after him and open up another case against the police. This war scared me as I had it with police. I didn’t want anything to do with them. They could torment us as they did when the charges first came to be. Following my husband everywhere and antagonizing him. It was horrible. What would happen if we started a lawsuit? How big would that get? I was scared but my brother wasn’t. He put away an additional twenty thousand dollars to get that started. I was mad too but I lived in this city. He didn’t. What could they be capable of? I have kids! They could plant something on me and take me back to jail. We all know how easy that was the first time. Point the finger and your done! He was in a war zone and my brother was not backing down for a second. His anger proceeded his pain. We discussed it every night after the findings. Copies of all the documents we attained were sent to him and he seethed over them.

Christmas was coming. He had spoken to me one night telling me to book a hotel room for him. He wanted to come on January 24th, 2016 and spend a week. This time he was going to attempt to bring his paralyzed wife and their two Persian cats. Ok? How the hell are you going to manage that? He wasn’t really listening to anything I had to say. He wanted the room booked and that was that. He told me what credit card I was to use and made me call and book it right away. He had been in hospital over pain from a precious surgery. It was midnight and he was in a wheelchair smoking outside in the dead of winter.

My brother and I were the same that way. We love the snow and don’t feel the cold. We wear shorts in the winter with flip flops and everyone looks at us like we are from another planet. From birth we had been that way. I still am. I have not worn a pair of pants in all my life. I called the hotel and booked the handicapped suite. It was done and ready. How he was going to do this, I had no idea but he was adamant.

After Christmas we started back on discussing the cases taking a bit of a much needed break. My brother spent every night in his garage. In his underwear, smoking and talking on the phone. When it was down right freezing I would ask if he was in his underwear with the garage door open for all the neighbors to watch. He would say “YEP”! Take a picture of his hairy chest and underware and send it to me to prove it to me. Oh my! I didn’t have to see that! Hahaha I believed him!

I received a text from my brother on the 19th of January at two in the morning. “Hey kid! U up”? It read. I was apparently passed out. I missed it. He would always text me before he called to see if I was awake and I always was but this time, my meds kicked in early and I was out for the count!

I tried calling him that day but he was busy running errands. I knew we would eventually catch up at night anyways. Our usual phone call.

I had fallen asleep again. This time, my phone rang at two in the morning. It was my brothers nurse. She seemed distraught and not knowing what to do? She told me she heard a bang! So she went upstairs to see what happened. Apparently, my brother was coming in from the garage, probably to make himself another cup of tea getting ready to go back out an call me. It was time for the call. As he was coming up the few steps to his island in the kitchen, he must have lost his footing as he did with his prosthetic legs numerous times. He fell and hit the side of hit head on the wall next to his built in television in his kitchen. The fall was so fierce, it put a hole in the wall and cracked the surrounding paint. He got up with her help, she says, and she helped him to his bed. When she got him in, he wanted help removing his prosthetic and told her he was fine but she knew he was not fine. Within moments he started to mumble and was not able to speak well. She was so scared! He had managed to threaten her and tell her not to call anyone especially and ambulance. He demanded she go back to bed and leave him alone. She couldn’t do it. She called me not knowing what to do. I contacted his daughter right away. We both panicked together unsure of what will happen next and of course, with his medical history, decided to call 911. Regardless of his threats! I contact his close friend and secretary to please go to the house and be with him. She did immediately. We were over six hours away and his daughter over four hours away. His secretary was the only connection we had. They rushed him to hospital and he kept yelling at his secretary. Not to let them keep him and to take him home. He really wanted to go home. He started getting so angry she said, that he started calling her a bitch and horrific names. There was nothing she could really do. As we all anxiously awaited the results of his brain scan, it was determined that he had a hemorrhage on the left side of his head. His bones were so brittle from the cancer that it cracked almost instantly. Before we knew it, he was transported to the Edmonton hospital by helicopter. They were in a rush to stop the hemorrhage. He was bleeding in his brain and there was nothing they could do. His speech was now totally gone and he could barely open his eyes. His heart rate was fast. We drove immediately towards Edmonton to be at the hospital with him. When we got there, we could instantly see what bad shape he was in. He could see us, in and out of consciousness. He would try so hard to speak and use hand gestures but we could not understand what he was saying. We took turns being with him. When I was alone with him he kept gesturing for water. He was so thirsty! I could see the dryness in his mouth. The nurse gave me a small sponge with an inch of water and told me I could only use it on his lips. I was not to give him any water as he would choke and end up with pneumonia. It was so hard!!! He kept trying to suck the sponge to get water and I could tell he was so agitated with me. What was I suppose to do? He would then grab my hand, eyes closed and being holding different fingers up and putting different fingers down like was trying to give me numbers or combinations. I couldn’t figure it out! It was so hard to watch. Through tears and frustrations I was experiencing, he kept on. He was deteriorating and dying before our eyes. He had wires and tubes everywhere. Blood transfusions in both arms. I took a picture and filmed him a little. I was not sure why I did that. I really didn’t want to remember him that way.

He had made it through the day and the night. More people were coming to visit him. Many we didn’t know. Many of his friends. After more testing, the doctors spoke to us telling us the hemorrhage stopped! They had it under control and it stopped! Seeing him in such a vegetative state put next question was what happens now?

The doctors explained that if he pulled through this, he would not be able to speak, walk or even move put of a bed. He would spend the rest of his life in hospital. The family went nuts.

This once strong man, head of the family, business guru and kind soul was going to finish life this way? He had overcome all the odds. Everything God threw at him, he overcame it. All the illnesses. Cancer, two types, a transplant, dialysis, cutting off pieces of his body, he survived it all. He beat it all! Now a fall was going to end him this way? A vegetable? All our hearts didn’t know what to think. He had suffered so much and he would now suffer until his death. We did not care how we could have him back. We were just happy he would still be with us. So we could see him, hold his hand. I know that sounded selfish. What would you do?

On January 23rd as arrangements were being made to transport him back to hospital in Lloydminster, he took a turn for the worst. The transfer would not happen now. He had developed pneumonia. He was not going to make it. We had not left the hospital since we had arrived. We were not going to move from that hospital as we all took turns visiting with him. Out mother, on the other hand, was a complete mess. We worried because of her age how she was going to continue to handle all of this. We had given her some ativan. She needed it for what was coming next. We had all never cried so much.

My husband, secretly, was not doing well at all either. He was suffering inside and holding it all in. I could tell. Marcus was the one who took care of him the most. Dealing with his appointments, taking him to doctors. Pushing him I the wheel chair through snow and the long walks down long hallways in the hospitals. Up at six in the morning and not coming home until five or six in the evening. Sacrificing his life and the lives of others while my brother, in his bad situations insisted to drive anyways. On many occasions, we took the grueling six hour drive to Lloyminster and back, over and over again when my brother needed assistance. Especially when his wife did. My husband was the one carrying her everywhere as she was completely paralyzed. It was faster than always having to wait for a medivan or ambulance. Within all that time he spent with my brother, my husbands bond became inseparable. Marcus had a decent Male figure, somewhat like him, that he could truly bond with. You could see his anger as well as mine when my cousin showed up to the hospital.

My apparent close cousin whom I grew up with showed up. We had not seen her in years. Why was she there? My brother hated her. Most of our chats were about her. What was she doing now? Your here to see him? Ask how he is doing? Through all he went through, did you ever call and ask him? Did you even care? Now you care? Asshole. We could only be two at a time in his room. Someone on each side of him. We took turns. My son was desperately trying to be with him. Amongst all his visitors it was hard to get in there. My son, whom my brother loved and is his absolute twin, wanted to give him a kiss and hold his hand. My wonderful asshole cousin was not coming out. I finally went in there. She was holding his hand. I could actually see him trying to pull away. No I swear! I watched! Then I heard her saying “what? Your asking about my brother? He is doing fine. He was unable to come here to be with you”?

What the hell?? You really think he was asking you anything? Can you not see him trying to pull his hand from you??? It was not a reflex. I knew he knew she was there and couldn’t give two shits either. It was very apparent. I should of filmed it.

My wonderful uncles wife stepped in behind us and kicked her out. Thankfully, for her, I will appreciate that forever. Needless to say when my son was out and we went back into the waiting area, my cousin did not look happy. She actually totally ignored me the rest of the time. I really couldn’t give a fuck actually. Just leave asshole. Your waiting all of our time. I hate fake. I hate fake people. I hate people who only come around at a death or a funeral. Go to hell. Who do you think you are?

I had taken too much insulin that evening and had a terrible allergic reaction. They took me back to the hotel room. I was throwing up profusely and it was coming out all ends. My heart rate was through the roof and I could hardly breathe. It had happened a few times before. I had to go through the motions. My husband, daughter, son and my sister stayed in the hotel room with me. I was rocking back and forth with the worst shakes in history. We should have called an ambulance but I knew there was not much they could do. I had to go through it until it started to leave my system. I was not going to the hospital and being in emergency while my dying brother was upstairs. I needed to be close to him. This sickness needed to hurry up and leave my system. I passed out next to the throw up bucket on my bed.

I woke up to the phone call. My brother had passed away. It was January 24th, 2016. The same day he had told me to book his hotel for his arrival. He was gone. Everyone flipped out. My mother was done. We were so worried about her. She wanted to die with him. That was now her goal. I don’t blame her. Your child is not suppose to go before you! But God takes us when it’s time. Whatever time that may be. My brother cheated death so many times that we figured God said, “enough already! I’ve tried everything to get you to me my son, stop fighting me! Your going to hit your head because everything else I threw at you, didn’t work”! So he took him. My brother, my confidant, my chat buddy, my idol and inspiration was gone. I couldn’t bounce anything off him anymore. I couldn’t seek his advice. I had no one to talk to in the middle of the night. No one to give me shot when I messed up. No one to lecture me about my kids. No one to fight all these devils I was up against with. He was gone. So was everyone’s minds. I was alone.

I will always love you Robert.