I don't normally post personal stuff on this board, and rarely participate in other threads when people do, but now I know why people do.. to vent and to release.
Bill Keller was a friend of mine. My family knew him for almost 20 years (19 this fall actually). When you know someone for that long and you are only 30 years old, calling them a brother is a given.
In his late teens he was diagnosed with cancer. He went through extensive chemo and radiation therapy. The cancer was eliminated, but as a result of this treatment, his already scarred lungs (from a bout with pheumonia when he was a child) were now scarred even worse and hardened. A few years later (mid-20s) this hardening of his lungs caused one of them to fully collapse and the other one to partially collapse. At this point his condition was beyond repair and all he could do was to remain in physical therapy for the next few years to ensure that his lungs wouldnt become even less functional.
Then last December he caught pneumonia at which point he was rushed to the hospital. This pneumonia had taxed his already fragile lungs so much that he now clinically had the lung capacity of a 75 year old; at 32 years old. At this point he not only had to go on oxygen permanently, but he needed a double lung transplant. Doctors gave him a prognosis of less than a year to live without the transplant. So he went on the donor list and finally got the transplant in July of this year. Unfortunately nothing but problems ensued from that point on. He would make progress, then regress, then make more progress. It seemed for every step back he would at least make a step and a half forward. However ast week his heart stopped, and at that point the doctors knew they would have to change to the anti-rejection meds they knew wouldnt be compatible with his physiology. After he came around yesterday (and after more complications) he asked the doctors to be honest with him. They took him off his pain medications and discussed with him if he would be able to live a normal life. This was important to him. For over two years now he hasnt been able to run, ride a bike or do anything at all strenuous. He was out of breath just climbing the 5 stairs into his house. For the past 8 months he had been confined to his house, literally 24 hours a day and unable to ever leave. He wanted to be able to be normal again. The doctors told him this was impossible. He would always have discomfort and would likely always be tied to an oxygen tank, never be able to do anything more strenuous than walk around for a few minutes without being tired. And on top of all of that, the mortality rate after a double lung transplant is statistically 50% to five years, and even less every year after the fifth.
He did not want to live out the final five years of his life as the last two had been. He asked them to remove the life support he had been on during recovery.
William G. Arttiss Keller died the afternoon of September 8th, 2005. He was 32 years old.
For the past 9 months he had worked hard to burn every bridge he had. To push all of his friends away. He said he didnt want anyone around to watch him slowly die. Only a few of us (myself included) managed to remain in contact, and this was only due to our persistance and disregard for his attempts to push us away. After he died, there were around a dozen and a half of us that met up to say good bye to him. Depiste his best efforts, his friends still cared.
He is survived by a daughter. She is now around 10 years old. He hadnt seen her for a number of years. The mother didnt want it and he was too sick to fight it. His first task when he got better he always said was to legally fight to bring his daughter back into his life. I only hope now her mother realizes how big of a mistake she made and can do something to make ammeds for it. I know if his daughter ever asks me about him, Ill tell her everything.
If you ever met Bill, he wasnt the nicest guy. Just brushing past him you probably though he was an ass. What you wouldnt know, and what he would never let you know, was that he was an ass because he basically got dealt a supremely shitty hand in life. I always said the fact that has was as upbeat as he was was a testament to his character, considering he had been to hell and back, literally, and severely scarred both emotionally and physically. It is unfortunate that you had to know the guy for years, even decades, to see who he really was. Someone who just wanted what everyone else takes for granted every day of their lives.
So Im done rambling now. This is my personal post that I dont get why people post. It is my goodbye note to my brother of 20 years.
Goodbye Bill. May you find the peace and happiness in death that seemed to forever ellude in life.
Bill Keller was a friend of mine. My family knew him for almost 20 years (19 this fall actually). When you know someone for that long and you are only 30 years old, calling them a brother is a given.
In his late teens he was diagnosed with cancer. He went through extensive chemo and radiation therapy. The cancer was eliminated, but as a result of this treatment, his already scarred lungs (from a bout with pheumonia when he was a child) were now scarred even worse and hardened. A few years later (mid-20s) this hardening of his lungs caused one of them to fully collapse and the other one to partially collapse. At this point his condition was beyond repair and all he could do was to remain in physical therapy for the next few years to ensure that his lungs wouldnt become even less functional.
Then last December he caught pneumonia at which point he was rushed to the hospital. This pneumonia had taxed his already fragile lungs so much that he now clinically had the lung capacity of a 75 year old; at 32 years old. At this point he not only had to go on oxygen permanently, but he needed a double lung transplant. Doctors gave him a prognosis of less than a year to live without the transplant. So he went on the donor list and finally got the transplant in July of this year. Unfortunately nothing but problems ensued from that point on. He would make progress, then regress, then make more progress. It seemed for every step back he would at least make a step and a half forward. However ast week his heart stopped, and at that point the doctors knew they would have to change to the anti-rejection meds they knew wouldnt be compatible with his physiology. After he came around yesterday (and after more complications) he asked the doctors to be honest with him. They took him off his pain medications and discussed with him if he would be able to live a normal life. This was important to him. For over two years now he hasnt been able to run, ride a bike or do anything at all strenuous. He was out of breath just climbing the 5 stairs into his house. For the past 8 months he had been confined to his house, literally 24 hours a day and unable to ever leave. He wanted to be able to be normal again. The doctors told him this was impossible. He would always have discomfort and would likely always be tied to an oxygen tank, never be able to do anything more strenuous than walk around for a few minutes without being tired. And on top of all of that, the mortality rate after a double lung transplant is statistically 50% to five years, and even less every year after the fifth.
He did not want to live out the final five years of his life as the last two had been. He asked them to remove the life support he had been on during recovery.
William G. Arttiss Keller died the afternoon of September 8th, 2005. He was 32 years old.
For the past 9 months he had worked hard to burn every bridge he had. To push all of his friends away. He said he didnt want anyone around to watch him slowly die. Only a few of us (myself included) managed to remain in contact, and this was only due to our persistance and disregard for his attempts to push us away. After he died, there were around a dozen and a half of us that met up to say good bye to him. Depiste his best efforts, his friends still cared.
He is survived by a daughter. She is now around 10 years old. He hadnt seen her for a number of years. The mother didnt want it and he was too sick to fight it. His first task when he got better he always said was to legally fight to bring his daughter back into his life. I only hope now her mother realizes how big of a mistake she made and can do something to make ammeds for it. I know if his daughter ever asks me about him, Ill tell her everything.
If you ever met Bill, he wasnt the nicest guy. Just brushing past him you probably though he was an ass. What you wouldnt know, and what he would never let you know, was that he was an ass because he basically got dealt a supremely shitty hand in life. I always said the fact that has was as upbeat as he was was a testament to his character, considering he had been to hell and back, literally, and severely scarred both emotionally and physically. It is unfortunate that you had to know the guy for years, even decades, to see who he really was. Someone who just wanted what everyone else takes for granted every day of their lives.
So Im done rambling now. This is my personal post that I dont get why people post. It is my goodbye note to my brother of 20 years.
Goodbye Bill. May you find the peace and happiness in death that seemed to forever ellude in life.
He came off a bit rough when you first met him, but I'll tell you this. He had it more together than possibly anybody I've known. One of the last long talks I had with him, back in March I believe, we talked about what he was going to do with the future. Like a fucking idiot I am here saying "You need to start the things with your daughter now. You need to get the ball rolling before it's too late. You need to do this. You need to do that." And to every "You need to do..." he had a carefully thought out and well purposed answer. I felt just stupid, as if here I thought I knew everything and yet he had given each probably 100 times more consideration than I had.