My brother Gary and I have always had a fun relationship and a positive friendship.  I can remember as children always cracking jokes and generally causing harmless mischief.  

As we got older, I would often call him occasionally to keep in touch or ask him a car question (he is an expert mechanic and has always been fascinated by cars).  He didn’t always call back right away (sometime weeks later), but when he did, he’d say, “What?” I would laugh and say that I forgot why I even called in the first place.  Then, we would just pick up where we left off the last time we talked - just like we always had since we were younger.

Recently when he called, I answered, smiled and said, “I don’t remember what I called you for?” He said in the most serious voice, “You didn’t.  I am calling you.”  I suspected something might be wrong, but I hoped that was not the case.

I listened intently as the words we were speaking were the hardest and most emotional we had ever had.  He said, “I am in the hospital. I have cancer. It’s aggressive. I will need a feeding tube, chemo and radiation.”  My heart naturally sank.

I asked when I could visit and he said, more testing is needed and that he will let me know. The date of this conversation was March 17, 2020 – just around the same time as the Covid-19 pandemic was getting under way.

I quickly gathered up a card and gift to take to him at the hospital. As I arrived with gloves, mask and the gifts, the hospital was largely vacant.  I made it upstairs only to be met by a huge sign that said, “NO VISITORS until further notice”.  The nurses were kind and explained that with the Covid outbreak, the respiratory unit could not risk more potentially infectious people entering the wing of the hospital where Gary was.  In essence, they were trying to keep him safe, but inadvertently they were denying me the opportunity to comfort him. I did not get see him until April when he was discharged. It was agony waiting. By then, he was too weak for a long visit but glad to be home.

Once home, he opened up more about his situation.  He had just started a new job but had not been there long enough to qualify for benefits. He is now stuck without any insurance. Much of the medical paperwork to qualify for government benefits, along with other possibilities of assistance, takes a very long time. It underway, but as of right now, no money is coming in.  Plus, he is unable to work due to chemo treatments. The cancer has spread to his lymph nodes and treatments are scheduled in a manner to match the malignant nature of cancer of the lung.

He has worked hard all his life but was never able to obtain health insurance until the very job he had just started before the hospital (but did not complete his 90-day qualification period).  He is now just concerned with the basics of life.

So many love Gary.  His ability to make others laugh, the way he loves his family, and his genuine concern for others are all hallmarks of his character.  His neighbors and family are all collaborating to help him get through these very trying times.

If you would like to donate and help Gary relieve the stress of worrying about how to make ends meet, we would be grateful. His feeding tube, chemo and radiation treatments all collide together to make his days long and nauseating.  Your help could help alleviate his financial worry and make his days more bearable.

Thank you for your consideration and thoughtfulness at this time.