eldersister

I too lost my brother to H1N1. It has been four months since his death, he was hospitalized for over 3 monthson a vent. It has been the most horrible ordeal to watch him die like that. I truely understand your pain, and share in your sorrow.

I did try to write you a long response, but I ended up not being able to....I lost my brother in December, and miss him every day. All I can say, is it has given me an outlit to write here, and post some of my thoughts, and I hope you find comfort after the loss of your sister. I do understand how hard it is. I miss him so much my heart hurts.

"It's true we rewrite our address books after a loss. I started writing mine in pencil. (It's easier to erase.) What a wonderful statement.----and isn't that the truth. I started rewriting my address book after my dovorce. . But I also learned that some friends had very different notions about divorce, most of them brought on by their own experiences in childhood....and looking back, when my mom died, there was one incident in particular that was so odd, that I can only laugh now, knowing that my mom would have laughed too: My mom died on 9/11/2002. One year after the tragic bombings in New York. At the funeral, a cousin of mine came t me crying, and said "Why did she have to die on 9/11, it would have been better if it wasn't that date. " I just looked at her and said "She has been in a coma for days, she had no idea what day it was." Then I just started giggleing. I couldn't help myself. All I could remember was once, maybe 20 years before, my mother remarking about my cousin "stupid is, as stupid does" --and there I was, at my mother's funeral, crying and laughing all at once. All I can tell you, is that people do not think before activating their mouths. 2 months ago, when my brother died, same cousin came over crying, and asking "why did he have to die ?" I suggested she contact his many doctors to find out. I figured, I had done enough. Be strong.

It's like a snake in the grass, lying in wait while you are blindly walking by, and it strikes you all over again.... You thought it was under control, and then BAM. My teenager is 17. Before my brother died, he helped me giving her rides to and from school, and work, after my divorce where my ex is no longer involved in my kid's life. My brother became her surrogate dad, and then, he was gone. So, I had to buy a new car. No husband no brother, just me and the barracudas called car sales men. I prepared myself well, made a deal on the internet, played one dealership against another, got a good interest rate, did all my homework, and went out ---- deal in hand, to buy the car. And I did. Got a good price, and good financing. But even though I KNEW that this would be hard, it didn't occur to me that this was the beginning of not ever having him there for these "big" decisions. I always took care of him emotionally -- and when he was ill -- (too many times) but it was he who was my sounding board for financial decisions, and planning, and the "real" stuff....and there I was....without him. I did fine, until it was time to drive home the new car. I had a friend come with me, so daughter wouldn't be driving the old car alone, we went out of our way an hour for a great deal....but I was driving the new care alone. And I lost it, on the freeway....tears streaming down my face, saying out loud, "you should be here, you should be here." And he wasn't, he isn't, he won't be. And it's so unfair.

Because emotions are not things to conquer, they are not an object to move. Feelings are not miles to jog, or foods to eat. Emotions and grief are like the wind. You can not control it, it just washes over you like an unexpected wave of the ocean tide. Predictable yet different each time. You can't fight it, you can't control it...all you can do is ride it out, like a surfer. Sometimes you catch the perfect wave, and the memory sets you soaring, and other times what looks like the same wave tosses your butt in the air and you get a mouthful of saltwater sand. It's all about control, my friend; and we have to admit we have no control over the loss of our loved ones, and no control over our grief..... sucks....doesn't it ? !

Today at work, I was walking to take a file to someone, and had the oddest feeling of "unreality" alomost like one has with a panic attack.....and I wondered about it. I realized that it was just that feeling of going through the motions of being "alright" --- when I clearly am not. I had just gotten an e-mail from a dear friend of m brother, who has been gone just 2 months (oh, it's 2 months today....I guess my body "knew" but I wasn't thinking of it...) Sometimes I think that I want too much of myself. I didn't have that panic attack....it was just the feeling that something in my life is so very wrong. and it is...

I too, lost my brother. Just about 6 weeks ago. I still find myself in tears almost every day. I flle like Ihave lost the other half of my very being. Unfortunately, I don't have any great wonderful thing to tell you, except that I can understand and share your grief. I lost my mom 7 years ago, and even that loss pales in comparison to the depths of my mourning for my bro.

I am a social worker. I am here because I lost my younger brother to H1N1 flu last month. On my professional side, I deal with abused and neglected babies and children every day. On my personal side, I sat and watched my brother try so hard to live....while he suffered on a ventalator and being paralized for three long months before his body finally gave out. Every day, I try to balance the two things in my head. Trying to go to work and hopefully save a child's life, while dealing with the horror of seeing more death, and more abuse, and more hurt. There is one thing that I truely believe; that the love and caring you gave to your grandson let him know the love and security that he needed. Your love and caring for that baby made a difference. I might suggest that there area some wonderful organizations of grandparents who are caring for their grandchildren. You might want to honor your grand child by working or volunteering, or becoming a CASA (Court appointed special adovcate) for a child in the foster care system. I want you to know, that as someone who works in the field of child protection, that there are thousands of social workers out there who salute you, and thank you. You are my new personal hero.

I work in a fairly large office, in the social service field. I lost my brother just a month ago. I'm finding it dificult to find the "right" response to "Hi, I haven't seen you in awhile, what's going on ?" or worse yet the , "how is your brother doing, I heard he was sick"....... Now, on some occasions I almost feel bad for them. Because in their innocent question lies a really horrible answer. On one hand, there are times like this that I feel the tears well up, because I got caught by surprise, and I try so hard to keep my shields up at work....And on the other hand, there are times (especially if it's someone that I really don't care for that I have this urge to just say "he died". (I know, I'm bad at times!) and then there is the times when I can't get the words out, and I'm choking on my response. And while I"m at it --- those who already know, and ask me "so, how are you doing ?" there is the standard, "well, it's a hard time for my family right now" -- truth but impersonal, and puts an end to the questioning, especially if I suspect that they really are not interested in knowing.... but then there is that evil and warped side of me that want's to yell "how the heck do you think I feel? "My brother just died, I have an 84 year old father who is grieving, I can't sleep at night, my teenager is questioning her belief in religion, and my sister in law is a mess, and I'M the one susposed to be holding it all together?" So, I thought I'd post here, and see if any of you have some great responses that will save me from my sarcastic side....

I divorced 4 years ago. I never expected to do that. I thought it was a forever thing. But there were only a couple things that could have made me do it, and he did it. And took off leaving me with bills, and my anger and frustration, and saddness and embarassment.... Today would be my wedding anniversary. I didn't even notice it until I wrote the date on a form at work. And I cried. I cried because my brother died a month ago, my ex-husband cheated on me and I divorced his cheating butt 4 years ago, and my mother has been gone 7 years now.....and today would have been my wedding anniversary. So I cried for my brother, and for my mother, and for myself....feeling very abandoned today. But I worked hard on projects all day, and took care of business. I got through the day.

Try hiring a private investigator,If you find her, offer to pay for a stint in a drug detox and rehab program. That's my best advice...if you can help her fight her demons you may still be able to have a sister.....good luck.

I have given great thought to your reply today. When my mom died 7 years ago (is it really that long ?) I did not grieve as much as I do now. My mom died much like my brother. Ovarian Cancer, undetected, then found. Surgery, then pulmonary embolism, and then over three weeks systems began to shut down...one at a time. I sat with her for days, weeks, prayed at her bedside, sang to her, read to her, and that last day, told her that she could stop being brave, and if she could hear me, and I knew she could....that I would take care of dad, and my brother, and of course, my daughter, her only grandchild. And that I was leaving then, and going home to spend the night at home. She died that night; after I had left. I was so close to my mom, and to her mother before that. I grew up with my grandmother in our home. I felt tied, joined to them in a generational sort of way. We each gardened, grew herbs, loved to eat fresh vegetables from the gardens. I learned english nursery rhymes at their knee, and taught them to my daughter too. We baked and blessed the bread, We hoarded pennies in our closets to buy gifts with. When my grandmother died, in her 80's I was 20; She was gone, but the connection was not broken. And 33 years later, I still can feel that thread that connects us. When mom died, I could feel the pull of that thread, connecting the generations; giving my roots stability, even in my grief. But losing my brother, is different. And I cannot place my grief. It swirls around me, settles down but briefly, and is off again like hurricane winds of change. And is it because I am afraid ? Our father is now almost 84. My dear daughter has lost her beloved grandmother at age 9, and her only Uncle at age 16. Our little family is almost gone. And what will I be able to give to her ? HOw do I spin the thread when my soul feels lost. Yes, this grief is different this time.

I am so sory for your loss of your sweet baby. Your love and caring for your daughter shines through your post.

I was at work today, and was suddenly taken by the thought that my entire future, and that of my daughter's will be without my brother. There will never be another brother-sister organized Yosemite camping trip; the trip to England to see our mother's homeland will never take place; the last Hawaii trip together 5 years ago was, in fact the last. The phone will never ring from him again; there will never be a knock on my front door with my brother and some critter in hand. No one will sneak my daughter twenty extra bucks to take herself to a movie with, or pick her up and take her shopping for clothes when my ex doesn't come through with his check's in the mail routine.... I was dealing alright, I thought on a daily level. I was getting through the days, sometimes even going a full day without breaking down.....but the thought of all my tomorrow's being berift of my brother.....I couldn't even cry, it took my breath right away. I spent the rest of my day doing the most of mundane things I could think of, and still call it work. I filed, I filled out forms. I re-scheduled sessions with clients, I did not cope well. Now, I've got an hour before I pick my teenager up to get it together and become a human being again. He has been gone three weeks now, almost a month, really. Sometimes, I almost envy my sister-in-law, she has a name for it...she is a "widow" -- I am just his sister, who spent the last 49 years loving him.

Sometimes I think that when we grieve deeply, we revisit and re-grieve previous losses. If we were lucky enough to get to a place where we were able to come to a comfortable place within us about the previous losses, we can draw on that to help get to a better place.....but if the previous losses have not really been resolved, I think it complicates things and makes the task of healing so much harder. I also think that making big changes when you are so upset may be a mistake. But that is just an opinion....Take care.

My sister in law went away for a week after my brother's funeral, with my urging. 2 lady friends of hers were going to a lovely resort, 8 hours away, and invited her to go. I told her it would be a good thing for her, even if it only meant crying in a different county....and in a year of having to do so many "firsts" -- the first holiday, the first going away with out him, the first....whatever, that this first could happen quickly and without having too much time to ruminate over it for her. So she went. I told her I wouldn't call, but she could call me if she wanted to...she texted me twice to say she was having a good time. Now she is home, and I'm seeing her tomorrow. She told me today that she did much better than she expected, and that maybe all the monthes my brother was sick she mourned in her own way then....and I'm glad for her. Years ago I recall my brother saying that if he died, his wife would be sad for a bit, then pick up and move on-- that she would probably move out of state, sell their business, and just move on, that she doesn't "do" a whole lot of emotion....maybe he was right.... But, what do I tell her about me....that I can't stop crying every night ? That I'm finally down to about one crying jag a day; on good days ? That the supposed "rock" of the family, who solves everyone elses problems can't make it through the day without crying ? It has been just two weeks since he died, and frankly, I think I'm doing fairly well. I'm a divorced mom of a teenager, whose ex isn't around. I'm back at work, I'm taking my kid to activities, I'm keeping the pets fed, the bills paid, and the house as clean as it ever was. The laundry is done, or at least at it's usual rate....I'm able to talk about my loss with aquaintances without bursting into tears; But I am so very sad, and a bit lost. I feel like the ground I stand on, my very foundation of who I am, who I was is shaken. And I'm crying all over again.

Today would have been my brother's 50th birthday. And I'm angry and anguished all over again. Why couldn't he have gone quickly ? Why did he have to suffer for 3 months ? Yes, it was terrible to have to watch him struggle for 3 months, only to die, without family there, with doctors and nurses trying to revive him for a half an hour..... Why?! During most of his hospitalization he was aware, and would mouth to us how much he wanted to live, he would plead to us to ask his doctors for just a sip of water. "water, water" he would try to say, the tracheostomy not allowing him to really talk. Finally we were allowed to give him tiny tiny bits of ice. But then after he would rollercoaster down, nothing. He had no ability to move, he was like a limp fish, an intellegent head on a dead body. Heart beating, but dying an inch at a time. The agony of his suffering is overwhelming. People ask me how I watched him die like that, but the real question isn't about me, it is about him. And as long as I'm venting; Why is it that after my mom died, I was in my folk's house, staying with my dad for a few days. I was walking in the hallway, and clearly smelled the scent of Devon Violet perfume. It was over poweringly strong, but when I stepped back to smell it again, it was gone. Dad saw the look on my face, and asked me if I had smelled the violet perfume too.....we searched the house, but there was no perfume there. It was a scent my mom wore when I was a child, or if someone had gone to England and brought her some back. It was so comforting to know she was there, affirming that there REALLY WAS something, somewhere, someplace for her to go, and she was there safely. But with my brother, nothing. No dreams of him that are not horrifying, no signs. And he was so into that. He was always talking about life on different planes, life in a different dimension, the hereafter.... and I'm getting NOTHING. It's his birthday, and I'm revisiting anger and crying all over again.

I did attend. There were about 10 of us, and some of the women brought their high school scrapbooks to share. There were pictures of my sweet brother at dances before his cancer, with tons of hair in 1975; and then pictures a year later of him wearing a dashing hat, and leaning on a golf club. Seems many of his friend back then didn't know how ill he had been back then...I haven't seen some of these folks in 30 years, but now have ween them twice in two weeks...at his funeral, and now. It was lovely to see how adored he was. Makes me cry. Makes me angry. Makes me wonder at the world we live in, where 'modern medicine' cannot cure disease, but can and has developed bombs of mass destruction. I re-read parts of "when bad things happen to good people" but it still isn't enough for me.

Well, my brother's birthday would have been tomorrow, December 21st. He would have been 50. His high school buddies are having a lunch today at a Marie Callendar's to celebrate his life, and to honor his birthday. They invited me and my daughter to be their guest. (his widow was invited, but she is out of town, spending a few days away....) I so want to go, but I am torn between wanting to go, and hearing all their silly stories about him, and not knowing if I'm ready to go there yet....sigh...

OK, so I took a week off of work after my brother died. My co workers sent an arrangement to the funeral, and two co-workers came to the funeral. I am a social worker. You would think I know how to do this....and I've done it before, after my mom died....but I got the call that they were doing CPR on my brother at work....and I sat there, listening to them call the code....I broke down in tears, I sobbed. I cried. One of my co-workers hugged me, and I sat with tears running down my face, until I could drive myself home, to organize things.... I realized yesterday that I can't get warm....me....the queen of the hot flashes....is wearing sweatshirts in 60 degree weather....and tomorrow, I have to put on makeup and deal with other people's problems. I'm cold and I'm still not sleeping....I've never been a good sleeper, but the past 3 monthes of my brother in the hospital, sleeping with the cellular phone next to my bed....and having it ring at least once a week with another emergency with him...my body is still in "High alert mode" in addition to the shock mode.... This is so hard.

He used to call her his "elder sister"....that was his joking name for me....I am almost 4 years older. He died 3 short weeks before his 50th birthday. My brother had cancer as a teenager. And before that, a bone disease. He had spent more time in children's hospital than in school, his 9th grade year, and then his 11th grade years. His cancer was in his chest, and in those days (1975) they used huge doses of chemo and radiation. They cured his cancer, he was cancer free for the resto of his life; but the radiation damage set him on a course for future problems. By 35 he had quad bypass, for the leathering of his arteries due to the raditaion damage, and at 45, had aortic valve replacement. With the valve replacement the doctors told us that he flat lined several times during the surgery, and in post op too. They told us that they could never "touch" his heart again, because it wouldn't take the insult. He was doing great. He was my best friend, his lovely wife's deepest love, and has many friends, a sucessful business. We lost our mom to ovarian cancer in "02, but our 83 year old dad is still living. My brother had his wife had no children, but he doted on my 17 year old daughter. He was giving her driving lessons, and helping me to sort out life after a nasty divorce, where my ex is no longer seeing our daughter. He was my daughter's surrogate dad, and I appreciated his help. In September he got the flu. He started coughing. I was camping with my daugher and a friend of hers. He called to tell us that he and his wife would not be joining us, because he thought he was getting sick. I urged him to go to the doctor, but stubbornly he waited three more days. When he went he was given antibiotics and told to rest. By the time we came home, three days later, he sounded really bad on the phone, and I urged my sister in law to take him to the hosptial. She did that afternoon. I arrived home, dirty and tired, unpacked the car, took a shower, called my sister in law, who said he was in the hospital on O-2, and IV antibiotics and doing well. The phone rand that night at 3am -- the hospital was trying to keep a C-pap on his face and he was tearing it off. Could I come and calm him down. My sil and I met there. After trying to reason with a man with an O-2 reading of 70% I just let him rip the C-pap off and his O-2 fell to 49%. The hospital staff then intubated him. The tests came back positive for H1N1, and he was treated for everything under the sun. Primarily ARDS. It was an 80 day roller coaster of doing better, doing worse. Finally he was doing better, and he was transferred still on a vent, and feeding tube to a acute respiratory hospital --- not the one that my sil and I wanted, because the insurance company didn't have a contract and wouldn't send him to the one we liked better. He was at this new hospital one day before going back into their ICU, a week later, I could see his skin turning yellow, he was in liver failure. But he held on. two weeks later, he stopped communicating with us. He was dying piece by piece and my sister in law in denial, refused to see it. I am a hosptial trained social worker, and I begged for certian tests, certian proceedures, but I was not his wife....and would it have made any difference anyway ? He finally died after 80 horrifying days of suffering..... I feel like body parts have been torn from me, like I can't take a deep breath yet...It's only been just under a week, and I know that I'm doing ok, I'm just soooooo....lost and angry with no one to be angry at, and as the elder sister, I am everyone elses caregiver, everyone elses' rock. I needed somewhere to to release this, and here it is. Thank you for listening. eldersister.