Hello blog friends. I’ve been MIA from the blog community and will unfortunately be a long time trying to catch up on past blogs.
I had to depart suddenly as my brother was stabbed by a “tenant” he was evicting from his home. He is fortunately recovering well. The trauma team was amazing and repaired his heart and lung, damaged in the altercation. We have determined he comes from sturdy stock, because it was a miracle he did not die. Although he did say he remembered a “gold” room where he saw mom and his dad, both deceased. So who knows?
I cannot say enough thanks to all those who came to render support. It was very inspiring at how so many coworkers and friends showed up for the next few days. I think it helped for him to know so many family members and friends came to his side and offer if nothing else moral support. It was a tenuous few days but he is doing well.
It was also cool to hear stories from previous Air Force buddies who told us stories about his knack for picking up strays and rehabilitating them, making mascots of some that stayed with them during their service. Not surprising.
My brother Michael is one who has a big heart. He has a tendency to take in troubled youth and this one was more trouble than he ever anticipated. Having been a foster child himself, he knows how young people may sometimes need a break. Despite the fact that this young man had assaulted his own mother and grandparents, Michael was determined to give him a chance. I am unclear as to how old he was but I’m guessing he is in his early 20’s and still at large.
All the way over there, (I drove) I kept remembering the first time, I saw Michael as he got off the plane with his older sister to live with us. He had been in a foster home in Boston and both he and his sister were just as cute as could be. He was 5 and she 7 and I was in love immediately. I had just turned 18 that day, so I always thought of them as my birthday present. It still brings nostalgic tears to my eyes.
He was wearing a little beanie, shorts & jacket, knee high socks and a big, big smile. I wish I’d had an iPhone then, but no matter, it’s permanently engraved in my memory. Tears fell when I told him.
His buddy, “Jim” was telling us stories and the one that stuck in my mind was about a dog, they would later call “Runway”. He said, it was near death and rescued by Michael, taken to the vet and how Michael didn’t bat an eye as he promptly plopped down several hundred dollars to have her looked at and treated. She came to live on the base in, I think he said, Minot? (Not sure.) She was there for a good many years before she died.
Michael was a mechanic for military aircraft and I remember how he was always bouncing back and forth between there and Saudi. After retirement, he went to work for Boeing on what I suspect are aircraft requiring top secret clearances.( I only know because his family always has to be cleared as well, which they do periodically for his job. No clue what he does though. One year, we went through it twice as my son’s MSG assignment required it as well )
In the last couple of years Michael has fought cancer, gone through chemo, had a stent put in his heart which the nurses and docs commented on as he had a possible attack while in surgery. Shortly after that he had back surgery, so he’s had a very busy year. Despite all that, my daughter and I were amazed at his ability to bounce back. He was disappointed when the docs nixed his bike riding days for several months. Sigh! No holding this guy down.
We hope he will get to go home soon, though maybe with his wanting to get up and get going might be harder to control.
In the meantime, his assailant has not been apprehended. We called the police and asked about this, but he lives in a city where law enforcement is overwhelmed with stabbings and other grave crime. I was shocked at how many more had made the news in just 24 hours!!
With my other brothers help we changed locks on his home and my daughter and I cleaned up what had not been picked up yet.
It might interest everyone to know that his nurses were mostly men and his trauma doctor was a woman. Progress. My, how times have changed!
The trauma doc didn’t look like she’d hit 30 yet, but she was phenomenal and just as great about explaining what she did and even answered my other daughter’s questions (on the phone) and who’s in nursing school. Living in a small town, incidents like this would be rare and she was disappointed she was not in a place where she could attend to her uncle. I took pictures of all the data on equipment, tubes in and out of him and wounds for her to observe. With his permission, of course.
Sorry, no pictures that are releasable.
Just so you know: If I don’t “Like” or “comment” on your blogs, do not despair. It may just be too overwhelming to catch up.
POST SCRIPT: He is a hardy soul. What I failed to mention was that most were defensive wounds, still serious of course because of the possibility of infection, but only about a third were in vital areas. For awhile they were not sure of tendon damage, as the ones in his arms did affect movement but only for a few days, so they didn’t have to go back in for more surgery to repair them. So that was good.
Thanks for all your well wishes.