About 3 weeks ago my brothers health declined terribly. His calcium levels flew up and w/b cell count was extremely high. He went into the hospitial and spent 5 days. He was miserable in the hospital and wanted to go home with me. I took him home on Friday and was not prepared at all. We ended up back at the Hospital on Monday. I sat with him and realized I was watching my baby brother slowly die (47). I won't get into all the details but He was not eating and gasping for air. His doctors told me he had about a month, which I didn't want to believe. I moved him to a hospice center in hopes of getting him stronger to move him home. His daughter came with me on Friday, and that was the only time I saw a smile on his face. He was very restless about work, I calmed him down. Then he seemed to get restless again and seemed to calm down after I told him I was taking his daughter home. I didn't leave longer than an hour when I got the call he wasn't doing well. By the time I got back there he had already passed. The Hospice workers told me he went peacefully, which I am glad about. Him and his daughter were extremely close (best friends) and I couldn't believe I had to tell her he passed. I feel so cheated. I feel like I could have done more, and I feel horrible for leaving him and not being with him. I keep wondering if I hadn't taken him home that friday he would still be alive. I want to scream, I am so mad. I am numb, just going through the motions of the next couple of days.
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