Life Throws Curveballs in Day by Day
- March 29, 2017, 3:35 a.m.
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- Public
Hmmm…not sure how to title this entry, so I guess I’ll write first and title later.
My younger brother is going downhill. The doctors were going to do an endoscopy, but my brother wanted to wait until he is off blood thinners so they can do any necessary procedures while they’re in there rather than go down a second time.
Instead, they did a barium scan which revealed a thickening of the esophagus. This may be because of his long-running bouts of acid reflux, but it’s also a cancer indicator. Previous biopsies have not revealed cancer cells, though, so I’m still hoping for good news.
He’s in a lot of pain and his breathing is labored. He’s not joking as much. I told him about Mark’s memorial, some of the gossip, some description of the ceremony, that I read his words he wanted said about our brother and got laughs in all the right places.
I’m so impressed with my younger brother’s wife. She’s kept meticulous notes on his treatments and the outcome in a three ring, color coded binder that are SO helpful that the doctors and nurses ask HER for information. A part of me gets mad at the medical caregivers for being less able than my non-medical SIL, but I couldn’t ask for a better person to be looking after my brother.
So…I’d planned on driving up to see him this morning, but I couldn’t leave the neighborhood. The police had my street cordoned off. Sometime during the night, a man was killed on the lawn one door down and across the street. When I opened my curtains, the body had been covered, yellow police tape strung across the road and about 15 police cars up and down the road.
I live in a quiet little neighborhood, on a cul-de-sac. I’ve known most of the neighbors for 20 to 30 years, depending on the neighbor. We’re like this cozy little group in the middle of the city. We all have each other’s phone numbers, except for two houses at the end of the street. The lady whose lawn the man died on is a semi-retired nurse.
The police came to talk to us, but we’d not heard any sounds like a tire blow-out or pop-pop-pop (from the question, I gather it was a shooting). My neighbor across the street next to the death said the police told her the victim was a middle-aged male with a lot of tattoos. The police asked me about anyone seen walking around that didn’t belong (nobody) and asked if we knew of any drug houses in the neighborhood (none that I know of). Then they asked if I’d seen anyone squatting at the Vampire House (abandoned during the recession and stripped of plumbing and wiring). I said no, but transients did live in the greenbelt behind our neighborhood but there’d been no break-ins recently.
It sounds as if it was a drug shooting. It’s just surprising, since our area is considered quiet and safe. We are a good distance from the “bad” side of town.
So I didn’t get to visit my brother. The recycle truck couldn’t empty my buckets because the street was roped off and it’s more than a bit unnerving to have a dead person lying on your neighbor’s lawn all morning. As I said in a previous entry: life throws curveballs.
Hey! I finally have my title!
I’m okay. Rolling with the punches. I’m getting a pedicure tomorrow. A song for you to ponder.
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