How this journey began
On May 2, I had a startling realization around 3:20 p.m. that my brother was in serious trouble. I immediately started messaging and calling him multiple times, hoping to hear his voice.
By around 6 p.m., feeling a sense of urgency, I called my mom and urged her to go check on Ricky. To my absolute horror, Mom found him lying on the shop floor, positioned awkwardly on his left side. He was unable to speak and unable to move his body in any way. Curiously, he was lying there, vigorously spinning a desk chair wheel. We later learned that this odd behavior was something that kept him conscious and alert amidst the chaos.
At the time, I was in Birmingham, eagerly awaiting my older daughter's graduation ceremony from law school set for the next afternoon.
Mom sent me a text that simply read, “Ambulance on the way.” That familiar, dreadful feeling I always get when Ricky is in trouble settled heavily in the pit of my stomach. I immediately called Mom back and urged her to instruct the paramedics to use Narcan. Thankfully, they did, and it worked just enough for them to safely move him. Ricky had been doing relatively well over the past several months; there have been no indications of drug use, but this week he went quiet on me, which is unusual. I’m the one he tends to avoid, given all we’ve been through together. Tragically, we discovered he had relapsed. He bought the Sunday prior, buying from someone he thought he could actually trust. Ricky always held extremely strong opinions about dealers mixing fentanyl into their dope, given that it has already claimed several lives in our area. However, it seems this dealer on that particular Sunday was not to be trusted.
Based on the amount Ricky purchased and what was found remaining, it appears he didn't use it until that Friday. Anyway, here we are—he relapsed, and it really does suck, but guess what?
God is in control of this situation, not the addict, not the dealer, and certainly not even the doctors here at this hospital.
Ultimately, God has the final say in all things. He’s also had his hands on us all and has performed many miracles in this place in the last 23 days. We are now ending day 23 at UAB and are 24 days post stroke.
