My brother died very suddenly nearly two weeks ago. He had some underlying medical ‘things’ but nothing that was unmanaged or affecting him day to day. He was to all intents and purposes fit and healthy.
He was seen just a few minutes before, and was fine. A few minutes later he was spotted on the floor. Just lying on his back, like he was watching the clouds.
I was called and ran over, as I got to him, the lady who was already there said she couldn’t feel a pulse. I started CPR as she was on the phone to the ambulance. I knew he was dead. But I carried on, because that’s what was expected.
The ambulance crews managed to get his heart restarted after about 40 mins but they never got him ‘stable’. He officially died in hospital a few hours later.
His post mortem was inconclusive and samples have been taken for further examination and testing.
I don’t expect any answers.
I believe he just. . . died. Which is kind of frightening, but kind of nice too. He wasn’t worried, or in pain or fear. He had no knowledge of what was happening. He was in his favourite place doing his favourite things and that’s the last thing he would have known.
We did not have an easy relationship. He was very difficult as a child/young person to get along with and took his various frustrations and anger out on his family.
So many people adored him and he had such a positive impact on so many people, but we didn’t see much of that side of him. He was private and fiercely independent. He got better/easier as he got older and happier and our relationship was improving a lot in recent months.
I feel robbed of the chance to really know him as an adult and friend and I miss him more than I ever thought I would.