My (not-so) Drama King

If you were to ask me if my 17-year-old brother, Reed, and I get along, I'd say "depends on the hour." We're your not-so-typical brother-sister combination, separated by a mere two-and-a-half years.

The competition started on Nov. 7, 1996... To be more exact, the day Reed was born. Ever since then, we've competed in everything, whether it be who received more attention, had more likes on a photo, was taller or could throw farther. And when someone didn't win, there would typically be a fair share of tears, yelling, or ridiculous excuses of why he or she lost and a rematch would then be in store.

Pictures capturing the essence of my early relationship with Reed. My thoughts below:
Top Left: "Can I drop him in the balls yet?"
Bottom Left: "Excuse me, Mom... I'm over here!"
Right: "HA! My pile is bigger than yours."
Source: Michelle Fredricks

As we grew older and (he) grew taller, the competitive spirit between us grew as well. Everything became some sort of argument about who was right and who was wrong. But there was something that never changed– our unconditional love for each other. No matter how much he frustrates me with his complaining or excuses, he's still my baby brother.

So as he was on his way home from baseball practice yesterday and I could hear him through the phone to my mother complaining about the pain in his chest,  I sat there and rolled my eyes thinking, "here comes drama king." My mother told me to not act so ignorant when he got home, but that I was correct in thinking he was probably being a little overdramatic about his allergies. Oh how we were so wrong.

Four hours later, I sat in the emergency room with my brother and family as they prepared him to be transported to St. Luke's hospital (in Houston). The doctors said he had a Pneumothorax, which is a big word for a small hole between his chest and lungs allowing air to emit into his chest cavity. They wanted to observe him overnight at the hospital for precautionary reasons—it's good thing they did.

Reed in his hospital gown at the ER, suggesting that he was "a-okay."
Source: Mia Fredricks

Twenty-four hours later and I'm back at home as my mom and brother prepare for their second night at St. Luke's. Reed has been hooked up to two IVs, spent some time in the ICU, gone through a bronchoscopy and esophagram test, and is hoping to be released tomorrow morning. The doctors have determined he has a serious case of bronchitis, which my family hadn't even considered. Luckily Reed realized something was wrong after diving for some balls at baseball practice yesterday. Without his toughness to dive in practice then, we may have never realized the seriousness of the bronchial infection he has. The boy who I always call a drama king ended up being a strong, young man who has battled through a very long and hard twenty-four hours. 

This young man is someone I am proud to call my brother. Even through all of the tears and fighting and anger, I wouldn't trade our relationship for any other brother-sister relationship I've seen. I'm just glad I was on spring break to be by his side. 

Reed "straight chillin'" during his respiratory treatment, earlier today.
Source: Mia Fredricks

Although we are separated now because I'm in college, the most rewarding feeling is when I come home knowing he's thrilled just to see me. And every time I return, I love seeing how much he's grown into the not-so drama king he is today. 

You may be a goofball, with the maturity of a 10-year-old, but I'm proud to call you my brother, Reedo. Your strength amazes me. I love you.

Some of the happier moments between Reed and me.
Bottom: Reed not wanting me to go back to college after winter break.
Source: Mia Fredricks