Good morning to you all my dear friends and family from home here along the Western Slopes of Colorado. The microwave clock says "4:31" and in just a couple of hours more, I'll be making my way towards the community of Olathe as I get ready for day number 3 with the little people in my first grade classroom. I'm kind of tired and by my somewhat scratchy throat and runny nose, I guess I'm getting ready to have my first cold of the school year. It happens to me every year, it should not be a surprise. The arthritis that is settling into my fingers and knees rears its ugly head from time to time but I press onward. My next birthday, come the 26th of October, will proclaim me to be a 59-year old. I'm not really crazy about the effects that come to us as our bodies age, but you know it is still a blessing to wake up every morning, alive and well. If you are reading this, then you too have awoken. There must be a plan for us. Each of us. Any of us. All of us.
There is a movement going on across the country, everywhere around the globe, called the "Ice Bucket Challenge". It began in earnest earlier in the summer and has spread virally all over the place in just a short matter of time. There have been many ice bucket challenges that support awareness for various chronic and deadly illnesses but the one that has captured my attention and my heart is the current one in regards to ALS-Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis or sometimes more commonly called "Lou Gehrig's Disease". I knew little if anything about ALS before a few years back but my ignorance was quickly "called out" when my brother became afflicted with it and died from it less than a month after his diagnosis at the KU Medical Center.
I come from a big family, seven kids in all. Of the seven, only five of us remain. My brother, Mike Scott, passed away in November of 2007. Gone now for nearly 7 years, it seems hardly imaginable to me how quickly ALS robbed him of his health and then his life. Back in 2011, in one of my blog posts for the month of September, I wrote about him and how special he was to all of us. It was just prior to our family participating in the annual ALS Walk over in Wichita, Kansas along the Waterfront. It's an annual event to raise support and funds in the fight against the disease for which there is no cure. It is fatal. The blog post is reprinted below, if you would so care to read.
I have participated in two of the walks, the first in 2008 and the other in 2011. I'm sorry that I won't be able to return to Wichita this year but I will be with all of the other walkers in spirit. Last evening I posted a "challenge" to my family members back in Kansas and other points beyond that we need to do a Scott Family Ice Bucket Challenge in honor of the guy who meant so much to us in our family. I hope they do! Mike and I will be doing ours here along the Western Slopes, probably on Sunday afternoon when the weather is supposed to be sunny and 82. A little bit of an uncomfortable feeling, more than likely, but when I dry off and put on warm clothes it won't feel so bad after all. A small thing to do~one person and one bucket of ice water. But if it brings awareness to even one person who has never heard of ALS before, then it was worth it.
My brother would have said, "What took you so long?"
Have a great day out there all of you! I am thinking of you this morning from a place far away.
A blog post from September of 2011 for my brother, the late Mike Scott. His life was taken from the ravages of ALS but even though it took his body it could never take his spirit.
"FOR MY BROTHER~DITTO"
He gave me the first, last, and only Barbie doll I ever had. That Christmas morning of 1964, I FINALLY got what every other little girl in the whole United States of America (or so I thought) already owned! And I ripped off that paper with a smile on my face while he looked on, acting like what he had done was no big deal. He was just that way.
3 years later, we would be delivering him to an airport runway in Wichita where he boarded a flight to a place they called "Viet Nam". And the little "11-year old" girl that I used to be would cry and cry and cry for fear that he would never return home again. But return he did, a year later, safe and sound to our family's farm back in south central Kansas. We were blessed but there were plenty of other "little sisters" who were not so fortunate.
Years later, he would lend my date for the Tasmanian dance his ONLY vehicle in order that I might go out on my very first date. He did it not only once, but three times more in the weeks that followed. It was done with a no strings attached clause, without even so much as a "be sure to fill that gas tank up again before you bring it back." Not many brothers would do that for their kid sister, I was pretty sure. But he did!
And on November 12, 2007, on a crisp and cool autumn morning, he passed away from a brief bout with ALS-Lou Gehrig's disease at his home in Haven, Ks. He was my brother and I miss him......
For those of you who didn't have the chance to know him, this is my brother, Mike Scott. This photo is one of my favorite of him, taken a few years before he died. I can just close my eyes and see him sitting like this, arms folded, intent on the conversation at hand. Sitting here, he surely puts me in mind of our dad, who also seemed more comfortable with arms folded. Guess that's a "like father, like son" moment or something like that.
I have thought of Mike many times during the past few weeks, especially when the effects of my accident seem overwhelming to me. I remember the struggle that he went through as he briefly battled a disease that I knew little about. All of us, his wife, his children, and his brother and sisters got a crash course in "ALS 101." It was a hard lesson to learn but we did.
For those of you not as familiar with the disease of ALS, I'm thinking pretty sure that Mike would be glad if I'd tell you a little bit about it. You never know who you might meet in this life that is affected by it--we sure never thought that our family would need to find out. But, just goes to show you that we humans have no idea what lies in store for us in this life. Probably a very, very good thing!
ALS stands for Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis and it sometimes just goes by the name of the very famous NY Yankee baseball player who succumbed to it at the very young age of 38, Lou Gehrig. It is a progressive disease whose victims have an average life expectancy of around 5 years, once the diagnosis is made. Some live longer and some live much less. It is always fatal.
ALS is a progressive neurodegenerative disease. It affects nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord by slowly degenerating them to the point that they no longer help send the brain the needed impulses for voluntary muscle movement and the power that those muscles can generate. Most of the time ALS symptoms show up in weakened limbs first and then progress onward to the point where swallowing and breathing capabilities are impaired. Little by little, body part by body part, the disease eventually takes its victim's life.
In ALS victims, the mind remains extremely sharp and I know in my brother's case, he was keenly aware of all that he was going through. Mike's journey through ALS was very brief--he passed away from it in less than a month from his official diagnosis at the KU Medical Center. At the time, I remember so well how all of us couldn't believe that he could be gone so fast, with little time for any of us to be ready to say goodbyes. In the months that followed, we learned more about ALS and how some of its victims linger on for years and years. Time has a way of healing a little bit of the hurt and we now realize and accept how very fortunate he was to have not suffered any longer than he did.
Mike spent most of the last 4-6 weeks of life in hospitals in both Hutchinson and the KU Med Center in Kansas City. His greatest wish was just to just get the heck out of the hospital and GO HOME! Although it wasn't easy, his wife, Paula and children, Jessica and Christopher, found the way to make it happen for him. On November 8th, after waiting for what would have probably seemed FOREVER, he left Hutch Hospital wearing his Denver Bronco t-shirt and cap-SMILING ALL THE WAY OUT THE DOOR. A few days later he was gone.
Tomorrow several of his family members will be joining together with about a gazillion (translate that into a LOT) of other people to do the annual ALS-Keith Worthington Chapter Walk. We'll all meet up in Wichita at the beautiful area they call "The Waterfront". Walks like the one in Wichita are happening all over the U.S. in order that further awareness can be raised about the disease that took my brother's life and the lives of countless others world-wide. Even though huge advancements are being made in the study of it, ALS will continue to take more lives at the very moment you read this.
If I could send him a message in Heaven, it would have to say this:
Dear Mike,
You would be happy to know that your memory and spirit are still very alive and well here on earth! Your last days were an inspiration to your family and friends and hey, I think the whole town of Haven. I admire you that you fought until the end and never really totally gave up. Talk about determination-I could sure use a whole lot more of that these days my brother! May I continue to grow up to be just like you were!
When all of us walk tomorrow, each step that we take will be done in your memory and in remembrance of all the kindness that you showed to everyone, each day of your life. Although I miss you, I will STILL NEVER wish for you to return as you were in those last few weeks. Heaven is a wonderful place where no one has to worry about ALS or any other bad thing. Wow, what a peaceful place that must be.....Until I see you there, peace to you my brother. Love, Peggy
PS....by the way, "ditto" :)
3 years later, we would be delivering him to an airport runway in Wichita where he boarded a flight to a place they called "Viet Nam". And the little "11-year old" girl that I used to be would cry and cry and cry for fear that he would never return home again. But return he did, a year later, safe and sound to our family's farm back in south central Kansas. We were blessed but there were plenty of other "little sisters" who were not so fortunate.
Years later, he would lend my date for the Tasmanian dance his ONLY vehicle in order that I might go out on my very first date. He did it not only once, but three times more in the weeks that followed. It was done with a no strings attached clause, without even so much as a "be sure to fill that gas tank up again before you bring it back." Not many brothers would do that for their kid sister, I was pretty sure. But he did!
And on November 12, 2007, on a crisp and cool autumn morning, he passed away from a brief bout with ALS-Lou Gehrig's disease at his home in Haven, Ks. He was my brother and I miss him......
For those of you who didn't have the chance to know him, this is my brother, Mike Scott. This photo is one of my favorite of him, taken a few years before he died. I can just close my eyes and see him sitting like this, arms folded, intent on the conversation at hand. Sitting here, he surely puts me in mind of our dad, who also seemed more comfortable with arms folded. Guess that's a "like father, like son" moment or something like that.
I have thought of Mike many times during the past few weeks, especially when the effects of my accident seem overwhelming to me. I remember the struggle that he went through as he briefly battled a disease that I knew little about. All of us, his wife, his children, and his brother and sisters got a crash course in "ALS 101." It was a hard lesson to learn but we did.
For those of you not as familiar with the disease of ALS, I'm thinking pretty sure that Mike would be glad if I'd tell you a little bit about it. You never know who you might meet in this life that is affected by it--we sure never thought that our family would need to find out. But, just goes to show you that we humans have no idea what lies in store for us in this life. Probably a very, very good thing!
ALS stands for Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis and it sometimes just goes by the name of the very famous NY Yankee baseball player who succumbed to it at the very young age of 38, Lou Gehrig. It is a progressive disease whose victims have an average life expectancy of around 5 years, once the diagnosis is made. Some live longer and some live much less. It is always fatal.
ALS is a progressive neurodegenerative disease. It affects nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord by slowly degenerating them to the point that they no longer help send the brain the needed impulses for voluntary muscle movement and the power that those muscles can generate. Most of the time ALS symptoms show up in weakened limbs first and then progress onward to the point where swallowing and breathing capabilities are impaired. Little by little, body part by body part, the disease eventually takes its victim's life.
In ALS victims, the mind remains extremely sharp and I know in my brother's case, he was keenly aware of all that he was going through. Mike's journey through ALS was very brief--he passed away from it in less than a month from his official diagnosis at the KU Medical Center. At the time, I remember so well how all of us couldn't believe that he could be gone so fast, with little time for any of us to be ready to say goodbyes. In the months that followed, we learned more about ALS and how some of its victims linger on for years and years. Time has a way of healing a little bit of the hurt and we now realize and accept how very fortunate he was to have not suffered any longer than he did.
Mike spent most of the last 4-6 weeks of life in hospitals in both Hutchinson and the KU Med Center in Kansas City. His greatest wish was just to just get the heck out of the hospital and GO HOME! Although it wasn't easy, his wife, Paula and children, Jessica and Christopher, found the way to make it happen for him. On November 8th, after waiting for what would have probably seemed FOREVER, he left Hutch Hospital wearing his Denver Bronco t-shirt and cap-SMILING ALL THE WAY OUT THE DOOR. A few days later he was gone.
Tomorrow several of his family members will be joining together with about a gazillion (translate that into a LOT) of other people to do the annual ALS-Keith Worthington Chapter Walk. We'll all meet up in Wichita at the beautiful area they call "The Waterfront". Walks like the one in Wichita are happening all over the U.S. in order that further awareness can be raised about the disease that took my brother's life and the lives of countless others world-wide. Even though huge advancements are being made in the study of it, ALS will continue to take more lives at the very moment you read this.
If I could send him a message in Heaven, it would have to say this:
Dear Mike,
You would be happy to know that your memory and spirit are still very alive and well here on earth! Your last days were an inspiration to your family and friends and hey, I think the whole town of Haven. I admire you that you fought until the end and never really totally gave up. Talk about determination-I could sure use a whole lot more of that these days my brother! May I continue to grow up to be just like you were!
When all of us walk tomorrow, each step that we take will be done in your memory and in remembrance of all the kindness that you showed to everyone, each day of your life. Although I miss you, I will STILL NEVER wish for you to return as you were in those last few weeks. Heaven is a wonderful place where no one has to worry about ALS or any other bad thing. Wow, what a peaceful place that must be.....Until I see you there, peace to you my brother. Love, Peggy
PS....by the way, "ditto" :)
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