My 84-Year-Old Brother Is Dying, and I’m Wondering When to Visit

I don’t want to be too early — or too late

Photo by Engin Akyurt on Unsplash

Late last month, I got an email that my 84-year-old brother, Jimmy, was going to have his spleen removed. This was the latest salvo in Jimmy’s battle against severe immune thrombocytopenia (ITP), an autoimmune condition that makes him bruise and bleed easily.

Jimmy isn’t much of a talker, so our calls are few and far between.

And when the calls take place, I’m always the one who initiates them.

But when I got his son’s email about the splenectomy, I gave Jimmy a call.

Turns out he’d already been in the hospital for *two weeks* waiting for his spleen removal. His platelet count wasn’t high enough to proceed.

Two weeks. Dang. Talk about a lack of communication.

Since then, at least communication has been flowing more smoothly.

Jimmy’s body attacks its own platelets. Since I’m fresh off of treatment for blood cancer, some of what I heard about Jimmy’s treatment sounded familiar.

An online source said Rituximab, a monoclonal antibody that was part of my chemotherapy and is known for causing side effects, was a treatment for Jimmy’s condition. When I asked Jimmy about that, he said, “Oh, yeah, they tried that right away. Didn’t work.”

Jimmy’s platelet count held steady enough for him to get the splenectomy, but that also didn’t work.

Reading between the lines, it looks like the doctors have played just about all their cards for my brother. The only thing they have left to offer is weekly platelet transfusions.

At some point, Jimmy’s body will give up the ghost and refuse further treatment.

But will that point be sooner or later?

I’d like to know because I’m making the 2,600-mile round trip to Pennsylvania in mid-September for my 50th high school reunion. Money is tight, and I’d prefer a one-and-done visit.

If Jimmy dies before September, I’d like to go to the funeral. But if I visit now, go home, and come back for a funeral, that would be three trips.

Some people have all but begged me to visit Jimmy before he dies. They tell me that money is nothing when it comes to life and death.

That’s true. But the reality is that I’m not that close to my brother, and I’m paying my own way.

Actually, my twin did offer to cover the plane fare. That would be a big help, and it would save the frequent-flyer points I’ve been stockpiling for funerals and the reunion.

But every time you set foot in an airplane, it winds up costing you more than airfare.

And why am I visiting? For Jimmy? For my nephew? For me? For appearances? For what I wish would have been?

All of the above, really. And I feel like since I have time and advance notice, I should go.

But when?

So, back to my initial question: When is Jimmy expected to die?

My nephew goes back and forth on this question. He urged family members to visit now while there’s still time. There was talk of Jimmy going on hospice.

For now, Jimmy is in a continuing care center, whatever that is, and it sounds like he’ll do all he can to stay alive. How long can he keep going with those weekly platelet transfusions?

If I were in Jimmy’s shoes, I’d refuse further treatment. Eighty-four years is a decent run.

But I’m not the one calling Jimmy’s shots (pun originally unintended).

My twin and year-older sister visited Jimmy this week. My sister texted, “I would say if you can swing it, you should visit in the next couple of weeks.”

That’s the clearest indication I’ve had that Jimmy’s time is running out, no matter what actions he takes.

I have plans for this week, including a weekend visit from my son in Minnesota. So I think I’ll hit the skies, friendly or otherwise, next week.

That will likely be my best window to see Jimmy alive.

As I was writing this, it dawned on me that I don’t have to make an extra trip for a funeral if Jimmy lives longer than expected. I’ll have seen most of the people who would show up for his funeral. Although I won’t see two of my sisters, we plan to visit in September.

And I was concentrating so much on Jimmy that I didn’t take into account that my daughter now lives in Pennsylvania, and I’ll get to hang out with her for a couple of weeks.

Pennsylvania is a better place to hang out in the summertime than Houston, anyway.

Ideally, Jimmy will last until I get there, and the funeral will take place before I go home.

Hang on another week, Jimmy…

Thanks for reading! I’m also looking forward to visiting my long-lost friend while I’m back home. Here’s the story of our reconnection:

[embed]I Reconnected with My High School Friend After Five Decades Apart Yes, she found me on Facebookmedium.com