Dealing with Guilt: How I Dealt with Guilt After My Twin Brother's Accident

On Saturday, December 15, 2001 I went to work as a bagger for the NWS Commissary. I bagged groceries, talked with co-workers, showed off the watch my mom gave me for my birthday the day before, and hung out. At the end of the day I waited outside for my mom to come pick me up. I waited for half an hour and she didn't show up. I was pissed to say the least. I started walking home. I passed McDonald's on the way. I looked in the windows as I kept walking. I didn't see my brother or my mom. My brother worked there and my mom was supposed to pick us up. I kept walking. When I got in front of Blockbuster I looked both ways and crossed 2 lanes and waited in the median for the other 2 lanes to clear. When they cleared I walked on. Ten minutes later I was a couple buildings down from the apartment we lived in. I heard sirens and thought to myself, "I didn't do it!" It was something my friends and I always did. I got home and realized no one was home. I went for my house key. I didn't have it. I remember that it was on my dresser. I kicked the door out of frustration. The phone in the house kept ringing and I was becoming more and more frustrated.

My neighbor invited me to her house while I waited for someone to come home. He sister, Moreen, was there also. Moreen worked with my brother, but was off that day. Time went by and she got a voice mail on her cell phone. After checking she took me and her sister into a back room. She was in tears as she told me that Robert had been hit by a car on his way home from work. I broke down in tears asking when and where. They didn't know, just that my sister called and left a message saying what happened and asking if they knew where I was. We called and told them I was OK. I wanted to see Robert, but Moreen and her sister had had a few drinks and couldn't drive. My mom said not to worry, there was nothing I could do tonight.

My mom and sister, April, got home in the early morning hours. I hugged my mom and cried. She said that we should all go get some sleep. She and April went to sleep. I stayed up and called people. I called Robert's best friend and told him what happened. Then I called my best friend. She couldn't really comprehend what I was saying. She had been sleeping. I sat in my brother's room for a while holding the book I had gotten him for Christmas, Ripley's Believe it or Not. I fell asleep in his bed clinging to the book like a life line.

Mom woke me up and said to get ready to go. Robert had been asking to see me. I got ready as April yelled at me. She said I should go to work. Mrs. Sosa arrived to take us to MUSC, the hospital he was at. I left the house in tears with Mom telling me April was just upset. I knew better. I knew she was blaming me. I knew my mom was blaming me. I knew that no one would say it outright.

We got to the hospital and I ran into my bosses husband. He worked as a janitor there. I told him what was going on and that I couldn't get a hold of work. He told me not to worry about anything, he would call his wife and tell her what happened.

Before seeing Robert, my mom told me to be strong in front of him, he needed us to be strong. That was so much easier said than done. I saw him and wanted to collapse right there. He had so many gashes and so much road rash. His forehead a mess. His left arm and leg were wrapped in so much bloody gauze. I had tears threatening to fall as I asked the dumbest question possible, " How are you feeling?" His answer was typical Robert, "I feel how I look." A few minutes later they took him away for surgery. As soon he was out of earshot, I broke. I told my I was so sorry I wasn't with him.

A few days later he was moved to recovery. I remember his finger being glued to the morphine button! He hated moving more than he hated sitting. He damaged a nerve in his back that made sitting very uncomfortable, but it was part of therapy. We decorated his room with all the Get Well cards his class mates made for him. No one could believe what had happened. Going to school without him was weird. My class mates and teachers were very sympathetic. Not many went to visit him, but then who really wants to see someone they care about in that much pain. Robert never got mad. If fact after his friend, Earl, visited he didn't really want anyone else to come.

After Earl left Robert had severe chest pains and couldn't breathe. I can't tell you exactly what happened, because I wasn't there. The doctors told us he'd had an allergic reaction to the morphine and his lungs collapsed. It got worse. The reaction was so bad, he slipped into a coma. I refused to leave the hospital that night. He was moved back to the ICU. I talked to him and cried at his bedside the whole night. I went to back to work the next day. After work my boss and 3 friends took me out for ice cream then to the hospital. I cried as they put a very comfortable blue blanket on him along with some wrestling figurines. Robert is a HUGE wrestling fan. I knew he'd love it!

A few days later a miracle happened. Robert woke up. From what I was told he was not happy about the tube down his throat. Thankfully, all coma patients have their hands bound down, so they don't wake up and pull the tube out resulting in permanent damage. My mom and her boss were there when Robert woke up. She told me Tiki, her boss, got him the Stone Cold Six Pack. The Stone Cold Six Pack is a set a 5 videos and a t-shirt all about the wrestler, Stone Cold Steve Austin. He is Robert's favorite wrestler and idol. Mom put the first video in the VCR that was provided by the hospital. Robert woke up as soon as Stone Cold's entry music started. That famous breaking glass was a miracle worker in our eyes!

Robert slowly recovered and got to come home on December 31, 2001. He was only in the hospital for 2 weeks, but it was the longest 2 weeks of my life. He was determined to have everything as normal as possible. He even turned down our complex's offer to move us to a downstairs apartment. He said he was going to walk up those 17 stairs even if it killed him. He did it and it didn't kill him.

I was supposed to be with my twin the night of the accident. I cannot remember, to this day, my mother telling that she had to close at work on December 15, 2001. Because of that, I felt Robert's accident was my fault. If I had only remembered Mom was closing I could have pulled or pushed him out of the way. Then again, I could have gotten hit as well. Robert is a big guy. He was 5 feet 11 inches tall and 180 - 200 pounds at the time of the accident. I was 5 feet 3 inches and 120 pounds. He was hit at 30 to 40 miles per hour. I would have been killed. I hate not knowing and it makes me feel even more guilty.

The past 5 and half years have been a battle to deal with the guilt. One way of dealing is reminding myself everyday how lucky I am. I have a wonderful husband who thanks Robert every chance he gets for not changing apartments. I have 3 beautiful animals that I consider my children. I live in Germany! I am very lucky to be where I am today. I could possibly I have been killed that night.

I won't lie to you. In the early days of the accident I turned to drugs to numb the emotional pain. Some parts of that 2 weeks I don't remember. It took 10 months before I realized that I couldn't hide from the pain forever. I told my mom about the drugs after a huge fight. That is a story for another article.

Very recently I did something I'd been saying I was going to do since the accident. I got a heart tattooed on my right hand. While Robert was in the hospital I looked at his scabs and cuts and everything. I was always on the right side of his bed holding his hand. One day I realize that a road rash scab on his hand looked like a heart. I told everyone that one day I would have heart in the same spot and it would be for Robert. Many tattoo artist refused to tattoo my hand because I planned to have children. They said that my children would be given a hard time about it. I found someone here in Germany to do the tattoo. He did the tattoo, no questions asked. I love my tattoo and it helps me deal with the guilt I feel everyday.

I still feel Robert's accident was my fault. He has never blamed and has called me an idiot for ever thinking it was my fault. I remember asking Robert what he remembered about the accident once. He said he didn't remember ever being hit. He remembered waking up in the ambulance asking what happened. The EMT told he'd been hit by a truck. Robert asked, "Was it a nice truck?" The EMT responded, laughing, "No, it was a piece of junk." My brother said, "Damn," and passed out again. Mom told me the reason the phone was ringing off the hook that night was because Robert kept saying my name. She met the EMTs sometime after the accident and was shocked at what she saw. The EMT Robert spoke to had green eyes and strawberry blond hair. At the time, I had strawberry blond hair and my eyes have always been hazel green. Robert and I are extremely close. He is my best friend. I am so happy that is alive today and I know that I don't have to always be there to protect him.