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In an update I posted a bit more than a year ago, I expressed my belief that my brother was unlikely to survive to his 43rd birthday. Well, he managed to prove me wrong about the timing, but not about the ultimate outcome. Last spring, he managed to regain sufficient strength to embark on a job hunt, ultimately securing a new job with the US Treasury Department. The job required a fair bit of travel, which made his doctor unhappy, but he did begin attending regular AA meetings. However, his progress towards sobriety was uneven, at best. He showed up to at least one job interview drunk (which alienated him from the friend who had encouraged the boss to grant the interview), and there is evidence that he continued to drink, even while attending the AA meetings.
About a month ago, his doctor scheduled him for outpatient procedures to address additional verices in his esophagus. It appears that the prospects of this procedure scared him, and he arrived at the hospital intoxicated. In addition, his red blood cell and platelet counts were dangerously low, so the doctor ordered blood transfusions before he could perform the procedure. What was scheduled to be an outpatient operation turned into a weeklong hospital stay. In the end, they were unable to stabilize his red blood cell or platelet counts without blood transfusions, which suggests that he had caused significant bone marrow damage. The Monday after leaving the hospital, my brother went straight back to work, to the dismay of his doctor.
Just two weeks later, he collapsed during a work-related meeting in the Chicago area and was taken the Northwestern University hospital in Lake Forest. He was (again) experiencing massive hemorrhaging, and was being given large blood transfusions. My parents drove out to Illinois, and arrived to find my brother sedated. As his condition became somewhat more stable, they reduced the sedation, but he remained unconscious. By the end of the week, he continued to require blood transfusions to support his circulatory system and had not awakened. The doctors indicated that there was one possible surgical procedure, but it was unclear if he could survive the surgery, and even if he did, it appeared unlikely to give him more than six additional months.
My parents made the difficult decision to not pursue any further aggressive medical care, and to have him moved to a hospice facility. The next day, I flew out to Chicago and spent a day and a half with my brother and parents. The first day, he clearly knew who I was, but his mental capacities were clearly impaired, and I don’t think he was fully aware of where he was or of his condition. By the next day, I was no longer sure he knew who I was, though he still recognized our parents. As I left to return home, I wasn’t sure that he had more than hours of life left. Again, he proved me wrong, surviving almost a week before finally succumbing to the inevitable.
While I was there, my parents and I made arrangements for his remains to be cremated and shipped back to our hometown. My parents will be returning home today, and will be scheduling the funeral at some future point when it will be convenient for as much of the family as it is possible to accommodate. It appears that there will also be memorials in the New York City and Washington, DC areas, where he had large numbers of colleagues and friends.
My brother and I were estranged for many years, and while we had reconciled, our efforts to bridge the divide between us was still a work in progress. In addition, because of his slow decline and his inability to truly become sober, I think I have been emotionally preparing for this outcome for some time, and this is anything but a surprise for me. I am more concerned about my parents and the impact this will have on them. I know that the loss of a child is a devastating blow, even when you have had time to anticipate it.
It appears to me that my brother struggled with his demons for a very long time. Now he is at peace, but there are so many who will miss him.
About a month ago, his doctor scheduled him for outpatient procedures to address additional verices in his esophagus. It appears that the prospects of this procedure scared him, and he arrived at the hospital intoxicated. In addition, his red blood cell and platelet counts were dangerously low, so the doctor ordered blood transfusions before he could perform the procedure. What was scheduled to be an outpatient operation turned into a weeklong hospital stay. In the end, they were unable to stabilize his red blood cell or platelet counts without blood transfusions, which suggests that he had caused significant bone marrow damage. The Monday after leaving the hospital, my brother went straight back to work, to the dismay of his doctor.
Just two weeks later, he collapsed during a work-related meeting in the Chicago area and was taken the Northwestern University hospital in Lake Forest. He was (again) experiencing massive hemorrhaging, and was being given large blood transfusions. My parents drove out to Illinois, and arrived to find my brother sedated. As his condition became somewhat more stable, they reduced the sedation, but he remained unconscious. By the end of the week, he continued to require blood transfusions to support his circulatory system and had not awakened. The doctors indicated that there was one possible surgical procedure, but it was unclear if he could survive the surgery, and even if he did, it appeared unlikely to give him more than six additional months.
My parents made the difficult decision to not pursue any further aggressive medical care, and to have him moved to a hospice facility. The next day, I flew out to Chicago and spent a day and a half with my brother and parents. The first day, he clearly knew who I was, but his mental capacities were clearly impaired, and I don’t think he was fully aware of where he was or of his condition. By the next day, I was no longer sure he knew who I was, though he still recognized our parents. As I left to return home, I wasn’t sure that he had more than hours of life left. Again, he proved me wrong, surviving almost a week before finally succumbing to the inevitable.
While I was there, my parents and I made arrangements for his remains to be cremated and shipped back to our hometown. My parents will be returning home today, and will be scheduling the funeral at some future point when it will be convenient for as much of the family as it is possible to accommodate. It appears that there will also be memorials in the New York City and Washington, DC areas, where he had large numbers of colleagues and friends.
My brother and I were estranged for many years, and while we had reconciled, our efforts to bridge the divide between us was still a work in progress. In addition, because of his slow decline and his inability to truly become sober, I think I have been emotionally preparing for this outcome for some time, and this is anything but a surprise for me. I am more concerned about my parents and the impact this will have on them. I know that the loss of a child is a devastating blow, even when you have had time to anticipate it.
It appears to me that my brother struggled with his demons for a very long time. Now he is at peace, but there are so many who will miss him.
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