30 June 2016

Bullets, Bombshells and the Best Laid Plans... part 1

I've been trying to write this post for the past four months.  Between a combination of things listed in the title of this post, fighting with my demons and my old computer deciding it is ready for that long sleep, it just hasn't happened until now.

I've added that part 1 to the title as it may take a deal of writing to sum up what's been going on.  I shall try to explain as best I can without putting you to sleep with boredom.  Let's start at the beginning shall we...


It's 2nd February and my world crashes with these four words, "Your brother's been shot."  What followed that night was a mad dash for clothes and shoes, a speedy drive to pick up my mum and then a crazy speedy dash downtown to the hospital where he had been taken.  

We met up with my SIL and her mum and spent hours and hours sitting in the waiting area to find out if he would live.  Turned out the universe wasn't ready to let him go.  He came through surgery minus several feet of small intestine, as well as his apendix.  The surgeon said that he was extremely lucky.  The bullet barely missed his liver and kidneys.  We were told he would be kept sedated and on a ventilator for a few days until they were sure how his body was healing.  They let us in to see him once he was settled in the lockdown ICU.  (Due to the violent nature of his assault the unit he was in was put on lock-down, requiring anyone entering to have a password to get in and if anyone called looking for him they would say there was no patient there with that name.)

The next morning, I walked into the ICU to check on him and reassure myself that he was still breathing (even if on a ventilator), to have him turn his head and look at me with those beautiful blue eyes.  He was already off the ventilator and recovering well, if extremely uncomfortably.

He was in hospital for nine days.  I spent a lot of that time going back and forth between the hospital, keeping him company and keeping an eye on my mum.  Once he was home, I spent several days going over and sitting with him.  I was mostly there to fetch and carry if he needed something he wasn't supposed to lift but also to help with the dogs (they had three) and keep him company. 

He is still healing and the incision on his belly is finally closed up completely.  (The doctors couldn't close it in case they needed to get back in quickly, I think.)  He still has a lot of issues and is still healing on the inside, but he is alive and he is a changed man. 

I think he sometimes still has nightmares about it.  Hell, I still have nightmares about it.  But he gets a little better every day and that is all I can ask for.

As far as why he was shot, the only explanation is that the guy who shot him is a nut job.  He'd had no prior contact with my brother, they didn't know each other at all.  He followed my brother out of a restaurant and physically assaulted him from behind.  When my brother fought back, the guy went to his car and my brother thought that he was leaving.  When he turned back he saw the guy had a gun and was coming toward him so he took off running.  The guy caught up to him as my brother was trying to find a car to hide behind or in and the guy shot him then took off.  He was arrested (and released that night - don't get me started on our judicial system!) and his case is pending.  This creep is a habitual felon.  He's been in and out of jail since early 2000, I think and is currently charged not just with my brothers assault, but a hit and run, a driving without a license, failure to stop, failure to maintain lane control, possession of a firearm by a felon and some other things I can't remember right now.  Some of those charges occurred AFTER he shot my brother.

When all of this happened back in February, it hit me really hard.  I held it together in front of my family, because they needed me to be strong.  But at home, I was a basket case.  Whenever I tried to sketch, I would find my hands so shaky that I could barely hold the pencil.  Same for knitting and any art work.  Reading couldn't hold my interest and TV was too violent.  Everything just fell apart.  I fell apart and couldn't figure out how to put myself back together.  So, down my little dark hole I plunged, where I pretty much shut everything out.

I've been working my way out of it for a while now, but it hasn't been without a price.

This is it for part 1.  Next time we'll talk bombshells....

love & blessings