Five

It's been five years since my brother had cranial surgery to remove a brain tumor, and his post on the experience is stirring up my old memories as well. I remember being at the hospital but being so terrified of seeing him in that bed that I couldn't even go into his room. Mom, Dad and others were keeping vigil in the hospital waiting room but I had trouble even walking into the hospital.

Back then I didn't know exactly what was wrong with me that I couldn't just go inside but now I think I have some idea. See, the idea of something happening to my big brother, the big goofball I had always looked up to, just broke my heart. All I wanted to do was cry (and I did, a lot). My family, on the other hand, were so stoic about the whole affair. My mom especially was so calm and focused on a positive outcome that I was afraid to even be around her for fear that I would slip up, start bawling and disrupt her concentration.

It was clear to me that I was going about this whole thing the wrong way, that I should just have acted like craniotomy day was just another day, but I was fucking terrified that something would go wrong and I had no idea how to keep that fear off of my face and out of my mind. So instead I stayed away.

Luckily, everything worked out. After a harrowing year of surgeries and radiation treatments, Brian was on the mend. Five years later, we are all doing so well compared to then. We have been so lucky. Not only did that experience set off a chain of events that moved the entire family to Portland, I think it brought us all closer emotionally as well.

Anyway, Bri, I love you. Thanks for sticking around. You have literally changed my life for the better about a million times over.

xo