Here we go. Post number 98. ( I need to make it to 100 before I give up. Which by the way, I currently don't plan to do. Give up writing I mean. ) The last post was over a fortnight ago in April. I wrote it while resting in France and it seems like a life time has passed since then .
I wrote about my brother Simon being admitted to hospital with a brain bleed and I wrote 2 weeks into the crisis. At the time I was as reeling from the emotional exhaustion of dealing with the repercussions for my family and for Simon. Now we are over a month into the situation and what has changed?
Well, Simon is no longer in Intensive Care which is good. The bleeding stopped pretty quickly but my brother's body has struggled from the massive impact of such a huge brain bleed.
Initially his temperature kept shooting up really high. He was tested for infection and blood tests came back showing none. He was very thin, almost anorexic and fed by drip. Now he is eating his own food but without a huge appetite so his body weight still borders on the dangerously thin side. But on Tuesday when I visited his concave stomach was finally beginning to look a little fatter although he was still feverish.
For the past fortnight he has been in the stroke ward of the hospital under observation and waiting for his body to recover enough to release him into rehabilitation. Until his temperature stabilises he will not be moved.
Mentally my brother is struggling. He remembers so much but is very vague about what happened a few minutes ago. We have been told to engage him in conversation and try and stimulate his brain. This is harder than it seems. We look at photos and ask him to remember where he was and what was going on. Sometimes he remembers, sometimes he doesn't. We ask him where he is every day waiting for him to say ... "in hospital." Sometimes he remembers, sometimes he doesn't.
We have laughed together when he answers a question with ... " I don't know. I'm tired. Stop asking me questions. Just tell me the answer." It is wonderful when he is funny. He often comments on how bad the food is. Polite but honest. But then he tries to throw ice-cream over the roast meal and we realise we are back at the beginning. Trying to help him bring order into his shattered mind.
I had a phone call from Bristol hospital yesterday asking me to gather as many of the family members as possible for an official update and decision making meeting with the specialist. It caught me by surprise and reminded me that I am officially listed as ... 'my brother's keeper ' as far as the hospital is concerned. The truth is that my whole family is involved, especially my sister who is carrying the majority of all the administration at the moment. But it did scare me. I have never been anyones keeper before. I feel inadequate, unprepared. But it also reminded me how fortunate we are to have a large family. For anyone living alone and single the loneliness when disaster strikes must be devastating. At least we are sharing the load between us.
This led me to pondering just how fragile our lives are. Pushing our bodies to the limit. Not taking proper days of rest. Filling every moment of the day with activity, leaving no time to attend to a crisis such as the one we are facing. It is only because I am working part - time that I have any capacity at all to visit the hospital and spend substantial amounts of time with Simon. Bristol is a 2 to 3 hour journey depending on the traffic. I'd like to be there everyday but it is impossible.
Visiting my brother makes me think of how lonely it must be for those who don't have family or multiple visitors. Earlier on when my brother was in a shared ward with 3 other men, the man to his right kept shouting ... "Don't leave me alone. I don't want to die alone".
Why don't we talk more about death? It is the one thing that is going to happen to every one of us. Why don't we prepare people better for it? Why do we spend so much time distracted and busy and tired and bury our heads in the sand refusing to think about what comes after life?
How close we live to the edge all the time, stretching our financial budgets to squeeze in just a little more. Extra credit cards, Bigger mortgages. Not building financial boundaries or safety nets into our lives. It is frightening how quickly it can all come crumbling down when one element of the wobbly tower of bricks is removed.
I wish they had taught us more about real life at school. Why did we spend hours learning stuff that none of us can recall when what we really needed was a lesson on budgeting? Proper insight into credit cards and loan sharks and raising children. Who ever went to a class on good parenting? The average child today has no idea how to cook a meal, they are wired to their smart phones. We need more lessons in living and building healthy boundaries and less on algebra. We need to learn real social skills, how to communicate, how to listen, not how to write essays. How about some lessons on cancer? Statistically 1 in 2 of us are going to deal with it. How about lessons in talking to the dying. How to comfort someone after death.Why does no-one talk about death? Why do so many adults have no idea what they believe about what happens next. Surely we should be talking more about all of these really important issues.
I will stop ranting. We are all going to die and my brother is not there yet. In short he is getting better slowly.
On a happier note here are some other things going on in my world.
The barn swallows are back. Rosie and Finnegan and their son Hamlet. Well actually who knows which pair of swallows are living downstairs, but it is likely to be the same pair returning to their nest or their son returning with his little lady. Whoever they are, I have enjoyed seeing them back over the courtyard and their joyful banter keeps me smiling and reminds me I have company.
The purple Wisteria is flowering along the Western wall of the walled garden. The colourful canvas arrived just in time for May 1st when Loseley reopened to the public.
The Hillsong Colour Conference is happening this week at Wembley Arena in London. A wonderful gathering of women which I wish I was attending. Here is something beautiful written for the Conference on the art of friendship and growing older.
Bluebells season has come and continues to paint the woodland blue. It is incredibly beautiful. After months of elegant bare silhouettes the leaf cover has arrived and fresh bright green leaves adorn the previously naked trees. Everywhere I look there is a riot of colour and blossom. A heady mix of floral abundance. It is one of my favourite times of year.
