Mike

I know, another huge break from writing.  That wasn't the plan.  I was just getting in the swing of things except for the lack of photos due to our computer breaking and, oh yeah, not really taking any pictures while we were moving.  Then, on July 17th I got a phone call from my dad that changed everything.  He called to tell my that my brother was dying.

My brother, Mike, was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma in 2002.  He was confident he was going to beat it and did everything right to make that happen.  When I was pregnant with Andy he was going through chemo and we used to joke about how we both wanted to get new jobs but that nobody would hire either one of us due to our "preexisting condition".  He soon went into remission and five years later the doctor told him that he was completely cured.  Cancer free.  From that point on he lived an amazingly healthy lifestyle, making sure to take good care of himself and doing everything the doctors told him to do to increase his life expectancy.  He took nothing for granted.  You know how some people get better and then just go back to their horrible ways?  Not my brother.  He played basketball for a couple hours every morning before work, went back to the gym in the afternoons for his workouts, went on 40 mile bike rides on the weekends and hardly ever ate junk.  He was the picture of health.

But in 2010 his cancer came back.  Usually when cancer patients have something come back, it's a different disease or another form of cancer.  Not my brother, he had to be complicated, he had the exact same cancer.  He started chemo again but his doctors told him his best chances for longevity was a bone marrow transplant.  So in February of last year that's what he did.  The doctors were amazed with his recovery and said they wished all patients responded as well - he was the ideal transplant patient.  But then he got Graft vs Host disease, which I don't really understand but basically means his body was rejecting the transplant.  That's not always a bad thing, a lot of people come back stronger after it.  However, his was in the gut.  His intestines, his digestive system.  He couldn't eat and he got week and he had to start from the very beginning to eat again working his way up from a very simple broth.  But he did it, he got well, and he got to a point where he could eat pretty much everything.

He was in and out of the hospital a few more times, but he always got better.  Until the Graft vs Host spread to his kidneys and his liver.  His liver refused to respond to the medicines that they were giving him and there was nothing they could do.  Basically his body was going into liver failure and they couldn't fight it.

My dad called me as soon as he found out and I was on a plane less than four hours later.  My brother, David, and sister, Kathy, got there just before I did.  We spent the next four days going back and forth to the hospital to spend time with Mike and my sister-in-law Nanci.  Early on the morning of July 22, two days before his 46th birthday, he passed away.

I spent the next week with Nanci and my nieces and nephew, helping her get the house in order and getting ready for the memorial service.  Charlie took the kids to my brother's house so I didn't have to worry about them and could just focus on Mike's family.  I don't know if I helped or was in the way, but that was where I needed to be, so they wouldn't have been able to get rid of me anyway.

The memorial service was on Friday and it was so wonderful to see so many people who had been a part of Mike's life, all there to pay their respects and show their love for Nanci and the kids.  Friends and family and co-workers and some of his nurses and people from my parent's church.  It was standing room only and the place held over 250 people.  Even a few of my friends showed up and I was really surprised and touched.  The service was very nice and David and Nanci's brother, Marc, said some amazing things about Mike.

Afterwards, a lot of people told me that they didn't even know he was sick.  I guess that's true, because I didn't tell very many people.  I told a few of my close friends, but I always felt kind of weird bringing it up.  It didn't define him, he was so much more than that, unfortunately the last few years it just took up a big part of his life.  Also, I never thought that he wasn't going to get better, so it really wasn't an issue.  Until it was.

I'm not sure how I would define my relationship with my brother.  Were we close?  I would say so, but I guess it depends on your definition.  We didn't talk that often, how I wish now we had talked more, but that's just kind of how our family is.  I respected him and looked up to him and loved him.  When we did see each other we had fun and had plenty of things to share.  We were very similar and so different from our other siblings (who are also very similar to each other), that I guess we had a secret bond.

I am so thankful that I was able to spend time with him in the hospital before he passed away.  I know we all are.  Not much was said, but we were there for him because we loved him and in that time he was what was most important and there is no question that he knew that.  I will truly miss him but am so glad that he does not have to fight anymore.