My Brother

This is my brother, M, and his wife, L. My brother has always been special to me. I am the youngest of 4 kids. They are 15, 13 and 12 years older than I am. M (my brother) is the closest in age to me. Poor guy even had to share a room with me when I was 4 and he was 16. But he was good about it.

I remember very little from my childhood. But alot of what I do remember is of M. He would tickle me until I was ready to pass out from laughing so hard. He would wrestle with me in the floor until Mom stopped us or I ended up crying, but I loved it! He taught me how to play basketball. He taught me how to drive. Mom says he even taught me how to walk. He also taught me how to drink, but it was good fun when I was a kid.

His wife L has been a part of our family in some way since they were in high school. I used to love to go and stay with them when they were first married. It was so much fun. I never wanted to go home. I lived with them a couple of times as a young adult. M was always so good to my long haired rock-n-roll boyfriends. One night I came home puking from drinking too much and he just laughed and said--that's what I get. I loved him because he didn't yell at me or tell me I was bad--but I never forgot it and I learned a lesson.

I spent one whole summer babysitting his kids when they were 8, 5, and 3. They are now 23, 20, and 18. I've worked in his restaurants. Driven his car way too fast and been honored to care for his family.

Even though we don't talk enough and I haven't seen him in 3.5 years--he is so special to me. He's my big brother.

Five years ago M was diagnosed with primary pulmonary hypertension. The prognosis then, without treatment, was death within 2 years. He had great doctors. They inserted a pump into his chest and he receives medication every 3 minutes, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. He changed his diet. He lost weight. He stopped eating salt (fluid buildup is a problem). He's been mostly healthy since then. M even sailed through hernia surgery last year that they thought might kill him, but he did great.

In September he had his first hospitalization for fluid in his chest. It was pretty bad. Touch and go for a bit. But he got better and was sent home. That whole experience was a good one. It meant that he and my SIL had to seriously consider the next step--a transplant. They finally told their daughters about the seriousness of their Dad's condition and my Mom had a chance to talk to L and one of the girls about their faith. At that point we were looking at a lung transplant.

Two weeks ago, while Mom was here visiting from the US, M was hospitalized again with fluid. This time it was quite bad. He spent about 10 days in ICU. They couldn't even do all of the tests they needed to do, because he couldn't breathe while lying flat on his back. After a lot of talk, tests, and prayers--he was told he now needs a heart and lung transplant. We were told he is at the top of the list.

And so we wait and pray. It seems strange to pray for a heart and lungs for M, knowing that it means someone has to die in order for him to have a second chance at life. The transplant comes with a whole new set of problems--the big one being rejection. But it his only option left and one that he now wants. He says he is ready to live life again, even if its only for a few more years.

I try not to think of it a whole lot. It is overwhelming. I'm not ready for him to die. I want to rush to his side and help, but I can't. I want to go visit him and give him a hug--maybe for the last time. But I don't have the money. He doesn't want to talk to people right now, so I can't even call him. All I can do is pray and ask others to pray. I am. They are.

I love you M! You have always been a hero to me!