Freedom Dance

This is the deal...

So, folks have been asking what's been going on with me...why am I not as chipper. All these great things going on and I can't seem to smile 24 hours a day. What the heck is my problem, right? They think it has to do with something way less important to me. I had to clear out the other ish to make room for the love that I need right now to help shine me through this. I'm not gonna go into a lot of detail, I'm just gonna give a timeline. The timeline of events concerning my brother...That situation is wearing on me and I'm sad. Yes, I am sad. Very sad actually. I might even be knocking on angry.

1. April 11, 2006- My brother returned to his apartment after dialysis. My father calls his apartment and gets a busy signal. He goes to his apartment to check on him. The door is cracked open, everything is knocked off the table, the phone is off the hook, and my older brother (only 13 years my senior) is face down on his couch with his oxygen tube knocked off of him and lying on the floor. He had a stroke.

2. April 12, 2006- My mama and I go to a concert and then my mama tells me about what happened. She found out on the 11th. I call Devine and can't keep it together. She helped. We hung up. I wished for a butta half to be there to help me be stronger or at least really be there for me...genuinely. Let that go. Wiped my tears so my mama didn't see...she has/had enough stress and me showing my pain wouldn't help. My brother is unconscious still, has pneumonia, a blood infection, crust around his heart keeping it from functioning properly, kidneys still not working, right side of his brain is swollen, and his entire left side is paralyzed.

3. April 13, 2006 - April 14, 2006 - No change

4. April 15, 2006- My big brother is conscious.

5. April 16, 2006- My mama left Atlanta after celebrating with me to tend to my big brother...she's disoriented and can't even remember her own telephone number after hearing about what I endured the past 6 months (abuse and quiet trauma) and then what happened at home while she was here with me.

6. April 17, 2006 - April 19, 2006- All I know is that brother is still in the hospital and he'll be there for at least a year for rehabilitation. He'll have to live in a nursing home for the rest of his life or with mama or once she transitions...with me. He opened his eyes. He doesn't know what happened still. My mama sounds weak. My father is angry and confused. I'm lonely and knockin on numb.

7. April 20, 2006- My big brother has to have emergency brain surgery. The swelling won't go down and without it...he'll die. I call my mama to talk about my emotional trauma and she tells me, "I'm sorry, yanapoo if I sound uninterested, but your brother just had emergency brain surgery...so that's where I am right now" I say, "Oh, I'm sorry...I understand...are you okay?" Last time I cried was when I heard he had a stroke...April 12, 2006. This news brought no tears.

8. April 21, 2006 - April 27, 2006- He knows mama is there, he's without the tube down his throat, he can write notes with his right hand, and wiggled his big toe on his left foot. My mama told me that she said, "Tell your brain to tell your left foot to move....tell your brain to tell your left foot to move" and his toe wiggled. She's filled with hope after that wiggle. I'm not.

9. April 28, 2006 - May 2, 2006 - My big brother still has swelling in his brain and they can't place the bone back on until it goes down. He has short term memory loss and cannot speak.

10. May 3, 2006 (today) - My mama tells me that he told her why he had a stroke. NOTE: PLEASE FORGIVE MY LANGUAGE AND SPORADIC TYPING...I AM ANGRY AND SAD AND HURT. REFERENCE: (*) = my tears or a pause when I had to stop typing from shaking...this is hard for me to write, but I need to write it. If you made it this far...you're a trooper. She asked him if he remembered having a stroke. He wrote, "No." She asked him if he remembered anything about that day. He wrote, "Yes, they wouldn't help me out of my chair after my dialysis (*...finally the tears come) treatment(*). He wrote, "As I tried to get up and walk the nurse called me Step N' Fetchit(*)." He wrote, "They wouldn't wheel me out to the van in a wheel chair (*....those motha fuckers!**** that's my fuckin brother! ****that's your fuckin job you souless bastards!****(scream)****). He wrote, "The driver woudn't help me from the van to my apartment when they dropped me off and laughed at me." (********************screams and clinched fists****************YOU COULD'VE KILLED HIM, YOU WRETCHED MONSTER!*******FUCK YOU!)

They were supposed to help him. Their job was to help him. ****I can't save him from here***They almost killed my brother***They almost took him from me*****they ttttoooooookkkkkk him....and I can't help him. kkkkkke..he's my big brother and he's not, he's, he's,hes, he's, my mama can't take all this...and I'm dealing with this shit on my own down here...I can't save him and I want to make it all better... I can't...

So, that's what's been going on with me. Raw dawg...no chaser. Not that petty ish that folks think...it's this real ish that creeps up on me in the middle of the day, in my dreams, and I'm tryin to shake it. So...

posted by The Funky Fly Fresh Goddess @ 5/04/2006 12:34:00 AM