Shitty way to start a weekend

My brother almost died Wednesday night. I found out last night, Thursday. I haven’t seen him... I’m going this morning. I’m terrified to see what he looks like. He’s in the Trauma ward.

He ran his scooter through a stop sign, hit a moving SUV, fell off, and was apparently partially run over.

I survived my own close call last year, but I never had to stay in the hospital. He does, with several broken ribs, a bruised hear & lung, bleeding on the brain, and more... I can’t express this mix of gratitude and terror that has found me, I don’t even know where to begin.

I’m working on three hours sleep last night. I found out about him after visiting hours were over. He was sufficiently fucked up that he couldn’t tell the medical team who he was, hence why it took 24 hours to notify family.

His son’s birthday is tomorrow. Right now, his mom is keeping it from the kid. What a fucking travesty, he’s nine and he needs to find out his father’s in this kind of condition.

I’ll be going in in a couple hours and I’m dreading it. God, am I dreading it. I don’t want to see him like this. I’ve only gotten over my own accident in the last few months. Perhaps, like me, it will wind up being the best thing that ever happened to him. Perhaps he needs a wakeup call to put him next to death so he can really start seeing his life for what it is. We all need that. Hopefully he’ll be able to cope with it in the same positive way I was.

I’m grateful I’ve got the time on my hands to go and spend it with him. I can be there for the next few days. But fuck. My brother’s an example of the old “why do bad things happen to good people?” cliche, but the fact is, he makes a lot of bad choices in his life. He doesn’t pay attention to the signs from the cosmos and shit... he keeps taking the wrong paths. Me, I learn from those things. I really hope I can be a strong source of support during this time for him.

But it’s gonna be really hard on me, it’s gonna bring up a lot of things I’ve managed to get past. Things I’m not sure I want to be revisiting.

My mom died in that hospital. I fucking hate that place. I wonder if my brother’s thinking about that. All our shit, the C. family’s shit, is going down in the same damned hispital. There’s only eight or 10 in the Lower Mainland, and it’s all there. Like a fucking Bermuda triangle for my clan.

Man. I hope he’s gonna be okay. Trauma care. Fuck.