In early January I got the news everyone dreads. My older brother had been rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. After battling what he thought was a bad case of the flu doctors discovered a tumor in his brain.
The surgery was only partially successful and the growth was found to be cancer.
I’m no stranger to cancer. It has run roughshod through my family tree. Taken many of my loved ones. My mother has suffered multiple rounds with cancer for the better part of 40 years.
My brother and I were always close. He always treated me fairly. Sure we had some ups-and-downs as all families do. We could always talk though. He shared my love of technology and I shared his love of fast cars.
He was the person I went to for any problem I had in the world. He had a way of seeing things… He was able to reduce any problem down to simple terms that made things easier to manage.
I had maintained hope that he would win this fight … Unfortunately, it just wasn’t meant to be. The cancer resisted all efforts to treat it. His health continued to decline throughout 2019. On December 24th he passed away. Needless to say, I was devastated.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. We were supposed to sit in his back yard, having drinks and talking about what we were going to do after he retired.
After he passed I fell into a deep state of depression. At one point I laid in bed and begged for it all to be over. I told myself that “I’d had a good run If it was time to go I was ready.”
What more could be taken from me? I’d lost my job after 18 years … The one family member who always had my back… I was also 245 pounds. The heaviest I had been in my entire life. I was back on medication for blood pressure, blood sugar, cholesterol and acid reflux.
I was finished.
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