Twelve Days of Gheorghemas: Day 8

On the seventh day of Gheorghemas, Big Gheorghe gave to me:

Eight Bud Lites with Andy
Seven Book Categories for Reading
Six Cylinders for Shlara
Five Givings of Thanks
Four Badass Women
Three(+) Decades of Love’s Labor
Two Things You’re Needing
And a Fat Guy in a Sweet T

This first paragraph written from TX BBQ restaurant bar in IAH. That’s frequent traveler talk for Bush. Bush Airport. Houston.TR knows what’s I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Wednesday night the 19^th after two full days here touching some bases. Upon unpacking Monday night, I realized I only had one pair of dress socks, so when you leave the house and get that inkling that you forgot something, look in your bag and figure that out. Today’s PRO TIP.

Flying to ROA tomorrow afternoon. That’s Roanoke. Virginia. Sup Rootsy. Solo. Two nights. Glutton for punishment. But not really. Going to have eight Bud Lite’s with Andy. It won’t be a literal 8, for he anyway, more like 1 over eight pulls. Consuming a 12’r of BL’s during a VATECH tailgate Saturday is of the past.

Looking forward to the rendezvous. Dreading it too. When I with complete randomness picked the 8^th day, I knew I had to tie it to my bro Andy. Would have been the case for the first, fifth, eleventh. Just would have been. Why? Because it is all I think about. And all I never think about. It’s why I am waiting until this very last minute to put the tip to keyboard.

On my 16^th bday, Andy married one of my sisters, Kim. Kim and Andy met while Andy’s mom was in Rockingham Memorial Hospital in Harrisonburg, VA some thirty years ago. Kim was her nurse. A few years later they were hitched, and hot damn I finally had a brother.

Andy is a Hokie. As is his sister. Brother. Brother-in-law. Sister-in-law. And his two boys. Until this year, Kim and Andy never missed more than one Hokie game in a season. They’d travel to bowl games too when it allowed. And all games mind you are and have been preceded by world-class tailgating. We are talking about a 30-year span of excellence.

Great guy. Great father, husband, sibling, brother-in-law, son. Truly. Smart chap too. Chemistry nerd followed by an MBA. Completes every crossword puzzle and rubic’s cube with downright ease. Artistic as well -can draw any cartoon. A solid sense of humor and ability to have a good time made he and I pretty compatible. He is very Gheorghian.   

As I write this, I go a few minutes and all is well. And then it is not – extremely dusty in here! To the point I have to shield my face & eyes from the bartender and foreign couple sitting right next to me while I ponder ordering one more Manhattan before boarding.

My sister Kim recently got healthy after years of dealing with some very rare disorders. Sparing you w/the details but Cervical Dystonia preceded by Spasmodic Dysphonia (which another sister has also), a million doctors, stress, years, dollars, marital hardships, and as I said, eventually back to a close to normal thanks to a couple of very small batteries placed in the head. Praise lawd Jesus she’s good to go and damn it, I, and my family, are very, very, happy for she and equally Andy.

That was a year ago. Within what was a month or two, my boy Andy develops breathing issues, seemingly benign until it becomes a bigger problem, breathing that is. Since breathing is a sort of a big deal, Andy went to the doc, or docs more accurately. Pulmonary Fibrosis. Can be treated, managed, but could get worse. It did. Duke visits ensue, several. Lung transplant needed but need to do more tests to confirm. Let’s put you on some pharma to assist with the symptoms. Breathing becomes more difficult and thus heart is working harder. Heart getting weaker. Heart gets bad. Lung transplant need now trumped with heart transplant need. You wanna try and live a few years – how about the old lung and heart transplant? Pretty straightforward really. We just replace your heart and your lungs in one fell swoop.

A double organ transplant? How’s that shake out? It requires a move to Durham well ahead of time. You prepare, get ready. And then wait (do you hope?) for someone to die, hopefully younger and healthier than you that has agreed to be an organ donor and happens to match your needs. And then if that works out, you’ll probably be in the hospital for at least six months, maybe a year. And if it doesn’t work out, you’ll know pretty soon. Could be just a few weeks, days even. Mid-50’s, grown kids. Conundrum for some, others not so.

What say you Andy?

I think we’re going to go ahead and proceed to tap out pards, says Andy. I might be paraphrasing.

The bottom line since you are asking is…absent a miracle this is Andy’s last Christmas. Possibly his last month. We don’t know. Ask me in 24 hours. Or don’t, rather.  It’s okay though, really. Andy is handling this like a champ, worried more about those around him than himself.

I always amused Andy, made him laugh a lot through the years. Sometimes at me and sometimes with. Hoping either to happen here shortly. Will let you know how it goes as I write this last bit from hotel in Christiansburg, VA.

To echo Z’s sentiments yesterday, thankful for GTB. Could be called Gheorghe: The Outlet. It has been a good one for everyone here no doubt.