My Sister Millie...

"We were two and had but one HEART."

 
My sister Millie was my only sibling, my best friend and my soul mate.  Ted, my husband, knew when we got married that with me came my sister.  In fact, he often introduced Millie as his other wife and sometimes she treated him like a husband.  She often apologized to him because she would boss him around - he does need it occasionally.  And don't even go there in thinking there might have been hanky panky.  We were sisters and we knew that sisters don't mess with a sister’s man!  Ted was smart enough to never make me choose between he and Millie, as he knows he would be gone.  I could get another husband but I could never get another sister.  By the way Millie had been divorced for about thirty years.
 
Millie started losing the muscles in her left hand and I really don't know why she didn't go to the doctor because she was very good about taking care of herself.  Heart problems run in our family and we were sure that would be the cause of our demise.  She and I were going on a cruise to Alaska and I made her promise to go to the doctor when we got home.  Her primary care doctor saw immediately that she needed to see Dr. Heitzman, a neurologist.  From Sept. 2006 to May 2007 they ran tests and I went with her to every appointment because four ears are better than two.  Not too long after the tests began, they found a growth on her spine and removed it and I thought that would be the end.  She was also having pain in her right leg and that did stop after the surgery.  All the letters and memos going between all the doctors accidentally got sent to Millie and she called me and said that the doctors thought she had ALS.  I knew enough about ALS to know that they didn't know the cause and there was no cure.  I thought, my sister, my rock couldn't have this terrible disease because I needed her.  Dr. Heitzman gave the family the terrible news in May 2007.  At that moment, I became an advocate for ALS because that was the only thing I could do.
 
The next nineteen months were "The Best of Times & The Worst of Times".  Millie didn't get that two to five years that doctors tell ALS patients, as she died Dec. 23, 2007.  I was her caregiver 24/7 and it was hard, but God gave me the strength and patience to make her life as good as it could be, all things considered.  If I hadn't thought God was going to heal her, there is no way that I would have been able to make it through those 19 months.  God gave us a scripture through a visiting preacher at her church.  Psalms 118:17 - I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord.  That was exactly what I needed to help me.
 
We cried a lot during that 19 months, but we laughed a lot more than we cried.  We would go to Dr. Heitzman's clinic and we did everything we could to lighten the mood.  She was my straight man and she was the brunt of a lot of my jokes.  And it would break her heart every time someone didn't come to clinic anymore because they had passed away.  We finally quit going because it was so hard on her.  We had to be careful around our family because they just couldn't handle some of our jokes.
 
That trip to Alaska was only the beginning of our travels -  Russia, three week road trip to Nova Scotia, California, two week road trip to S. Dakota, road trip to Canada, lots of short trips.  We would be planning our next trip when we were on our way home. Ted was good enough to stay home and work so I could go on my trips.  Our last trip was in October to California.  We had wanted to go to Florida in January for the space shuttle launch.  We would joke about me pushing her in that wheel chair all over the United States and I did.  She hated that all the work - the luggage, wheel chair out and in, oxygen machine was all left up to me,  but I never got tired of doing it because we were enjoying ourselves so much.  Millie was very concerned about my bad back, but it never bothered me. She ain't heavy, she's my sister!  I would be ready to help her out of the car and she would just smile, I would ask her why she was smiling and she would say, "I'm peeing."  I would get so upset with people in handicap stalls in restrooms when they didn't need them and I would want to say something but she would just say, "Loree be nice."  But those doors on handicap stalls need to swing both ways. 
 
If I could just put my arms around her one more time as I walked backwards to help her to the commode and I would sing "Oh How We Danced".  She and I both loved to dance when we were younger.  If I could lay down in bed beside her one more time and feel her hand on my face one more time, her hands were so soft.  We would watch T.V. and try and make fun of all those news men & women and the way they talked.  If I could push her on another trip and complain that a motel put up a hand rail and called it a handicap room.  If we could sit out on the porch, she reading her bible and I would be reading a book, watching the traffic go by, like we did that when we were little girls with our Mother. 

When Mom died - I had Millie; when Dad died - I had Millie; when Millie died - I had no one.  Oh, I have my husband, kids and grand kids but they aren't My Millie - My Always.  She is the only one that loved me all my life.  I loved her more than life itself. 
 
I will keep working to raise money to help find the cause and cure.  I have no shame when it comes to ALS, I will do almost anything for the Cause.
 
Loree Long, Millie's little sister.