Hope! ... :-)

I'm feeling particularly good after a funny old week of major stresses and strains! ...

As some of you may know, my beloved brother is having a VERY, very hard time lately. READ ABOUT MY BRO HERE FIRST (second long paragraph)

Anyway, he finally realised how ill he is because he was going downhill FAST. He was feeling extremely weak and couldn't function properly with the simplest of day to day tasks. I could see it creeping, like a slow poison, all over him for months and months, in his actions, skin, eyes and voice. I got to a point where I couldn't bear it any longer - despite constant prompts and gentle persuasion to see the doctors or get to hospital he still hadn't been. As per earlier post, I knew how ill he was before his denial would let him believe it! Our mother was the same and wouldn't see the wood for the trees.
After a very bad few days he bravely made an appointment with his doctor and he went and had his blood tested at the hospital (and considering how bad his head space is and what he's been through, it was a very brave thing). This was about a week ago...

So, Monday morning he went to the hospital to get his results and they told him to get his arse in there immediately! With shaking voice and brave demeanour my dear Paul arrived at my house with his (mental) five month old Staffy pup and said, 'here's Buddy, he's come to stay for a couple of days'. I knew straight away what was going on.

To cut a very rambling story short, they found his red blood count was depleted by more than half because of severe anaemia and that he is suffering kidney rejection. It turns out that I'm the only one not surprised by this! This is the second time he's suffered rejection of this kidney (they managed to save it once before, some years back, as it wasn't in such a dire situation as it is now, and it actually performed better after intervention then because he was nowhere near as ill, nor avoiding medical help). God, I could witter on for hours about his clinical ups and downs but I mustn't.

He was very close to death this time, as I feared, and the doctors gave him an (educated) ear bashing. Laying it on the line they say they will not give him another kidney.

But… I think if he can prove he’ll look after himself better and we, as a family give him better support, they may change their minds in the future - we’ll BUILD that bridge when we come to it!

All is not lost though, because after three units of blood, a scan and a session of dialysis, his skin colour has changed for the better (from a grey-yellow to a pale normal!) and he felt himself coming back to life during this treatment which ultimately saved his life. However, they have stressed that it is unlikely to work this time, by that I mean saving the kidney, as the proverbial chips are not just down but have been scoffed by some hungry bugger! (Yes you can joke about these things if you've been hand in hand with them since birth OK, lol.) The most likely outcome is that he'll have to go back on regular kidney dialysis sessions but myself and our mother will fight for a place on the transplant register when, not if, he needs another transplant. WE HAVE MADE A VOW TO HELP OUR MAN-CHILD REGAIN HIS LIFE AND MIND.

It's not complacency that has led him to this point, more naiveté and depression.

They've given my baby bro’ a huge dose of Prednisilone (a steroid) in a last ditch effort to save the Olympian style organ - thus far it has survived four major illnesses - and as I watched the drug being pumped into him he visibly changed to a long-lost pink glow. Also, while visiting him in hospital today it was like it's always been since we were born - the fug of pissed-offness vanished from his dear face and a slow happiness, accompanied by a reassuring smile, spread across his face as soon as he saw me and he waved away through the pain. (He had a kidney biopsy today, which involves a local anaesthetic and a television aerial style needle.)

Well I think I’ve run on enough for tonight. I will write more tomorrow. I’m shattered after babysitting a puppy that needs monitoring like a baby who’s constantly got his fingers poised to poke into an electrical socket! (Oops. Please don’t take offense at this comment anyone. I’m incapable of thinking straight, only about Paul, his situation and his puppy - not to mention my newly established sixth-former, my thirteen-year-old baby and everything else folks deal with day to day.)

Hey, I’m happy and smiling broadly. Everything is in its rightful place tonight. In safe hands..

Love and peace, Angela X X X