Today I found out the extent of my neighbor Bobby's stroke, and it's very bad. I have known for a couple days that he had stroked, but without knowing how severe it was I decided to not worry about it. I called my mother today, who has dropped by to see him in the hospital, and she let me know that he's about the same as he was when he had his stroke on Monday or Tuesday. That's bad.
Bobby is in his mid-eighties, lived by himself, still mowed his own yard, and drove himself around. He was alone when he had his stroke and fortunately was in bed, so he didn't fall or further complicate his stroke. He is an Army veteran who served at the end of World War II in Europe. He's proud, patriotic, and country through and through.
We've attended the same church since I was in grade school, with a few years of a break when my family went to a different church with more children and less elderly people. We've lived less than two miles apart since I was seven. He gave me and my sister his granddaughter's hand-me-down clothes for as long as they would fit us. Essentially, he's part of my family, and he's the only person who makes a distinct effort to call me Marine, not soldier, and he makes sure to tell others that Marines are Marines. Even though he was a dirty old man, I love him very much and I'm asking for prayers for his prognosis and health. He is very bad right now and since he's old, his prognosis holds very little hope.
Thank you.
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