Patrice, Lindsay and I were very excited about our trip to England and Ireland due to begin June 27th. You might recall that I mentioned this trip in one of my posts. Some have asked what happened? What happened was that I took a different kind of a trip. A trip I didn’t want to take.
In mid May, while we were on BBQ/National Park tour, my big brother Stephen started to have some difficulty with his vision and with walking. He was also on a trip and soon after returning home, he went for an evaluation. After numerous tests it was determined he had Creutzfeldt Jakob disease. This is a very rare illness (300 cases per year in the United States) and is invariably fatal without any known treatment. I saw Stephen on June 25th and we hugged and cried. On June 26th he was in a near comatose state. I told him that I would come see him as soon as I got back from my trip. We left the next day and although it was fun being with Patrice and Lindsay my thoughts were constantly back home with Stephen and the family.
On July 7th I was notified that Stephen had died. I made the necessary plans to return home and insisted that Patrice stay with Lindsay to finish the last few days of our trip.
The doctors said this was a one in a million case. Stephen had a disease that occurs to only one in every million people.
As a medical student I’d heard of Creutzfeldt Jakob disease but of course I’d never seen it. I did know that no treatment existed and it was invariably fatal.
I refused to believe the doctor’s diagnosis. Not Stephen. That couldn’t be. Unfortunately it soon became clear that the doctors were right. Early on when they were just getting started with their evaluation I spoke with the doctors about their findings. After that I called Stephen. He asked what the doctors told me and I said that they said “he should have been better to his little brother when they were growing up”. He chuckled and said they were right. Of course no one said that to me. It was just a little joke. Stephen wasn’t mean to me, not at all. Sure he did the usual childish things growing up but isn’t that what older brothers are for? Doesn’t it makes guys like me ready to face the world?
I remember growing up and just wanting to hang with my big brother and his friends. I wanted to be as tall as him but that never happened. I wanted to be as good an athlete but that wasn’t going to happen either. But most of all I always wanted to be able to carve the Thanksgiving turkey the way he did. Unfortunately I never could do it as well as him either.
As a kid, I remember Stephen helping me learn how to ride a bike. He would also take me to sporting events. Our dad hated baseball so Stephen would take me to a game. Once he took me down to the Coliseum to get Dodger autographs.
As adults I recall starting med school in September 1971 and getting a call a short time after from my mother telling me that Stephen was getting married. In January 1972 Stephen and Fayla were married. Forty four years later I think time has proven that to have been a wise decision. I was Stephen’s best man at his wedding and 10 years later he was mine. Stephen and Fayla have two lovely daughters and I was always welcome at their home. He was a great father to those girls. In 2013 his granddaughter Alexis was born. She made him a new man. Watching him around the baby was always a joy.
Stephen had always been wonderful with kids. When we were younger we had loads of fun with our nieces, Annette and Mort’s daughters Stephanie and Leslie. They adored Stephen. My three kids came along much later but they too adored my big brother.
Stephen was very successful in business. He essentially taught himself what he needed to know.
Stephen was very kind, generous, thoughtful and very much loved by our entire family.
The last time I saw him I was about to leave the hospital and I said, “Lindsay asked me to give you a hug for her”. We then hugged. And we hugged. I didn’t want to let go for two reasons . One, it felt good and two, I didn’t want him to see that I was crying. When we stopped hugging I realized he was crying too.
The doctors were right about Stephen. He was one in a million. And I don’t mean his disease.
We buried Stephen on Sunday, July 1oth. This was a trip I definitely didn’t want to take. Thank you to all my friends and relatives who have been so very kind during this very difficult time.
From left to right: My sister Annette, Mama, Me, Stephen
Robert Reiss Travel Blog and Other Ramblings 