I Hate Goodbye.

I hate saying goodbye.
Despite my usually positive outlook, saying goodbye always seems so definite.
The past three weeks have reminded me how quickly life can change, and now more than ever the word hovers as proof that you’re leaving and you may not ever see this person again.
I spent the past weeks bonding with my sister in a way I never thought possible.
We were always close growing up, but once we got to high school our lives started to head in different directions––we were becoming adults.
As adults, we saw one another on the big holidays and major life events, as you do when you live across the country from your family.
A terrible illness shutdown my sisters system, but it simultaneously revived our bond.
Thankfully she is almost entirely recovered, and our connection is reinvigorated.
I look forward to the next chapter in our relationship; regardless of time or distance my sister is forever in my heart and I will guard her eternally.
We may not be near each other every day, but she is with me and that brings me incredible peace of mind.

Heart to Heart

Late night chats with sis;
Conversation and bonding.
Not just siblings, friends!

Walk On!

From stillness to mastering the staircase in under two weeks;
My sister continues to inspire me.
I can’t imagine the pain that she is working through right now––shrieking at 3AM with the inability to move.
Despite her agony she continues to fight and push herself to rehabilitate.
Today she walked from the physical therapy room all the way back to her room without a walker.
Progress is slow and steady.

Raising Hell In Rehab

I’m back with my sister;
Raising hell in rehab!
She’s walking, talking, and sadly smoking again––but I guess that means she’s getting back to life as usual.
Her sassy eye rolls (and the circumstance for why she’s in her to begin with) aside, I’ve really enjoyed getting to reconnect with my sister.
As and adult I find it much easier to over look her flaws, as she has mine, in order to get to know who she really is and what she wants from life.
Life––a word that has taken on a new meaning for her.
We’re all so grateful she survived, now if she would just stop bossing me around... Yeah, like that will ever happen.

Jet Set

My heavy eyelids can hardly ease the burning dryness;
The lack of sleep is killing me.
Too many airline seats and hospital beds.
I’m happy to live a full life, I just don’t want to die from exhaustion.
It’s time for a break!

Undone

The damage is done,
Words cut deep.
Actions reveal truth.
There isn’t a drug strong enough to dull the pain;
Or an apology so powerful it would heal the wound.
All we can do is move forward and allow time to ease the memories.

A Trip To The ER

My sister is admitted into the ER after complaining all day of level—10 pain. (Personally I think it was exacerbated by the fact that our mom and our extended family decided to launch into attack mode.) Nevertheless, here we are in the ER brought by an ambulance—after a ton of runaround between nursing bays, Shiree and I sit in the hospital room. Shiree has to get blood drawn and while the RN inserts the IV—mom & dad leave the room for coffee. The second they leave Shiree says, "Isn't it so peaceful now that they're gone?" The nurse laughs and Shiree waits for my response, "Matt?" 

I say yes, mom has given me a headache all day, but she's here because she loves us.

Shiree says, "I know. That's why I'm trying to be nice."

There was nothing nice about today.

Plop Plop

My sister’s inability to have a bowel movement for four days had us all in agony, her from the pain and us from hearing her torture-level moans.  The nurse suggested a suppository, and after a lot of probing (literally) she finally caved.  Dad and I left the room for about fifteen minutes so that the head nurse and her night nurse could administer the waxy poop maker. Jennifer, her nurse, came out into the family area and assured us we could go back into the room.  She continued to inform us that the quicker-shitter-upper could take up to an hour to produce results, except that by the time that we had returned to the room, my sister was curled up in a ball squeezing her butt checks and clinging to the red emergency call rope.
We walked in and she said, “I got to go! NOW!”  I ran out laughing, and nearly shit my pants––it was a hilarious scene.  I ran to get the nurse, and in the meantime my dad asked, “Wasn’t that a pleasant experience?”  To which my sister responded, “The going in part wasn’t, but this next part might be!”  We burst into laughter and the nurses ran by with gloves and a bucket.  When you’re sick, there’s no difference between us and animals, shit is shit––and you don’t horse around with that.

A Step In The Right Direction

Her tired body fights to stand;
She’s working hard, but remains frustrated that her body hasn’t caught up with her mind.
Her wit and sarcasm are fully intact.
With a big smile she returns to her comfy lounge chair.
Time for a break before speech therapy.
Recovery doesn’t happen overnight––only in the movies.
Thankfully, the road ahead is promising.