Category Archives: Brain

What Matters Most

19 Thursday Nov 2015

Posted by in Brain, insanity, Love, Mental illness, Uncategorized

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Yesterday was one of the hardest days of my life. I am sixty; there have been a few really bad days, a dozen or so incredibly amazing days and luckily, a life time of regular ones. Having a younger sibling with terminal cancer has shed new light on the joy of ordinary and the idea of what matters most.

My sister and I spent the day with one of our brothers. We started with the radiologist, next was the oncologist. The news that a significant part of his brain tumor was not able to be removed was officially revealed to us and for that moment, understood by our brother. He needed time to process all the information, but when you are told your probable ‘Expiration Date’ and it can be measured in days, time has a new meaning.

He is dying. He has a 12 year old and a 15 year old. He wants to spend every possible remaining moment with them. He has a book he is trying to write. He has songs he has written and recorded and wants to finish them. Where does one start? Turmoil shoved his cancer strained brain closer to insanity.

Struggling to help him, I suggested that he try to keep things simple. We talked about how things fell apart for our family when dad died and then again when mom died. He said that for him, the single most important thing was to make sure his children got to stay together. That one thing was what mattered most. Family has to stick together.

What matters most is truly what matters most. Help the person simply remember what matters most to them. With all the medical information and dates and schedules being thrown at them like giant hail stones in a thunder storm, help them try to keep things simple. If they don’t want to go through radiation and chemo therapy, honor their request.

When you can measure your remaining life in days, it matters. Put aside everything and listen. That is what matters most.

Brain Storm

31 Saturday Oct 2015

Posted by in Brain, drugs, passion, Tumor

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My youngest brother was admitted to the hospital Monday night after falling off a ladder. An MRI showed a tennis ball sized brain tumor. We were told he needed immediate surgery. Tuesday was spent preparing him for a Craniotomy. A digital map was needed of his brain and some of his vital signs required stabilizing. All day Wednesday we anxiously waited.

The wait was excruciating, for him; literally. His pain was extreme. He complained to everyone. Loudly and often. They tried to medicate him. He consistently groaned that it wasn’t even close to touching his pain. He eventually told them that he had been in so much pain, for so long, he had been self-medicating. The doctor he finally revealed this fact to, was unable to get details.

My brother’s life has always been a challenge; he was born in storm, during a hurricane. He had surgery to remove a swallowed penny as a baby. I remember as a kindergartener overhearing my parents concerns about the anesthesia. As a toddler, he climbed on top of a dresser. While falling off, the mirror broke, seriously cutting his throat. That scar runs right along the bottom side of his now grey-bearded jaw bone. On his tenth birthday, he snapped his tibia in two. Surgeries were required to try to repair the breaks; again, concerns about anesthesia. He first learned to play, then master the guitar while recovering. He sketched out entire comic books. Artistic expression was and is his go-to therapy and his primary passion.

Our dear parents are both departed. His relationship with the mother of his two younger children is damaged beyond repair. She is legally out of the picture; he has sole custody. We located his estranged 27 year old daughter via the web and asked her to call us ASAP. She did. They had not spoken for at least a year.

Myself, I’d seen nor spoken to him in well over a year. Our last interaction was at our mom’s funeral, when he awkwardly pulled me into a sobbing, apologetic embrace.

As children, he adored me. When I left home at 18, he was 14 and running with his pack of misfits. Tragically, two of those lost boys took their own lives as troubled teens. Drugs were involved.

He had the surgery yesterday. He is still begging for more drugs. Still in agony, and now paranoid, he is afraid. I am afraid too. I fear his tumor is only a part of this brain storm.