I am writing this blog for my brother who has had multiple strokes and now living in a nursing home in GA. Maybe with this blog I can find some healing with his strokes. Bobby had his first stroke 9 years ago. He was supposed to come to town for grandma's 90th birthday. Instead he didn't show up and I was very upset with him. First thought was that he used his ticket money for drugs. How could he do that? This was a special day. I remember when we got back to our grandmothers home and he called. I don't know who took the call first but all I remember is my mom saying stroke? Really I thought? My brother couldn't think of anything else? It was bad enough we were embarrassed about him missing the party now this? So I waited until my mom got off the phone. At that time no one believed he had a stroke. We didn't get confirmation until we received a call from his girlfriend and hospital.

The result of the stroke left my brother paralyzed on the left side of his body. He was still able to talk, but he needed to get a colostomy bag. My parents went to GA for his surgery, but he went into cardiac arrest. Thankfully he was ok, he recovered and went home to his girlfriend. I didn't have a chance to be with my parents or brother yet but later I did see him at our grandfather's funeral.

I was an emotional mess when granddaddy died. My car broke down on the way from DC to SC. My father's car wasn't working and he and his mother were not getting along but I was asked to pick my brother up from her house. When I saw my brother I could not believe it was him. I wasn't prepared to see him with a cane and having difficulties in walking and carrying his small traveling bag. I helped him in the car and took us home. Despite how bad my brother looked, it didn't stop him from calling my cousin and taking him out after we arrived home!

While my brother was home I became his caregiver. My mom helped when she could but I helped him the most. Bobby couldn't wash himself or empty his bag. I will never forget the smell from his colostomy and how it made me sick. My brother did try to clean himself but with his left arm being paralyzed he could not hold his cane and wash himself at the same time. I knew it wasn't the best experience for him, but I don't think he mind that his little sister was helping him. My brother didn't have clothes for the funeral. My father found some old clothes for him to wear and he brushed his hair. My brother didn't like how he brushed it so I did it again. During the funeral people asked me who he was. They were shocked when I told them it was Bobby. My brother played football. He was short but very strong and he was always the life of the party. At the funeral he was a small handicap man that nobody knew. Just thinking back on that day still hurts me. The man I knew was no more. After the funeral we returned back to our home so we could help him return back to Georgia. My father and I was with him and helped him on the bus. Now I wish we made him stay in SC but we thought he was ok with his girlfriend. When the bus left my father and I were sad to see him go but in a sense relived he was gone. It wasn't a happy relief. We needed to process what happened but couldn't do that while he was there.

About a month or so later my brother had returned back to the hospital because he had abscesses. He was not getting the right care at home. The hospital had warned us about this but nothing we could do. He wanted to be at home. Doctors were glad the infection didn't go to the bone. My mom and I went to visit him in the hospital. He looked so helpless and different. Never did we think this would happen to him. My brother was sent to a facility afterwards. Since he wasn't working the closest facility that took Medicaid was 3 hours away from where we lived. It's far and in the country, but compared to other facilities I had been in I knew he was in a good place.

My brother is 9 years older than me, yet I am the older sister now. He was my hero and biggest enemy wrapped into one person. I always felt he would be in and out of prison, but not being a prisoner to his own body. It hurts and still hurts to this day thinking about him. Especially now that I have had my strokes. If he was in prison, he could at least still write to me. His letters were mostly complaints about our parents, but at least he was writing. If he knew how, he would probably text me something crazy or send me an email. Maybe he would come visit me here in DC if he was out. Instead, he is in Toomsboro, GA. The highlight of his day was going for a smoke, but now GA has made facilities smoke free. He tried to escape once to get cigarettes so he has a band now and cannot leave. They play bingo for lotion or deodorant and have sing nights. Outside of that he watches tv and sleeps. My brother is completely paralyzed now on his left side, he cannot control his so he drools wears a bib. His most recent stroke has left him on a pureed diet. We were told he could eat solid foods, but my brother does not slow down to chew his own food. He just shoves the food in his mouth and doesn't take a break. I joke with my dad that he got that from him. He did give the nurses a big scare. He was able to convince the nurse son to buy him M&M's, but he choked on them. That nurse said she didn't know how she did it but she got my brother up and did the Heimlich on him. But that's my brother. Always good at having people doing things for him.

For now my parents are trying to figure out how to get him moved from GA to SC so he can be closer to family and he will have more visitors. Maybe even take him out for a little bit. Despite everything my brother has done to me,our family and himself I love him. I miss him and cannot wait until he comes home.