My manager’s uncle, Dick Brazell, died of PKD complications last week on World Kidney Day. A few hours after I tried and failed to get onto the “Today Show” (security restrictions since 9/11 prohibit costumes anywhere near the camera), and got my sign briefly onto “Good Morning America” (resulting in a woman in Orlando reading the sign, coming to this site, and shooting me a most welcome email), my manager’s uncle, in great pain, went to the hospital.

The doctors operated on him, apparently to prevent an aneurysm he’d been carrying from rupturing. That part of the surgery seemed to succeed, but then he took a turn for the worse, doctors said, and died.

My manager, Bill, grew up with his Uncle Dick always around, showing everyone how to have more fun. Dick knew he had an aneurysm, and knew that it might someday rupture, but continued to golf and enjoy life because, as he said, “What else would you do?”

Dick’s family is very sad. It’s yet another sudden death, and another from PKD. Dick’s 90-year-old mother has now lost her husband (at 44), both of her children (at 42 and 64), and one of her grandchildren (at 35) to early, sudden death, and three of those four died because of PKD. (The other one, Bill’s father, drowned.)
My manager is sad and angry: Sad at the shocking losses — each of which reminds the family of the ones that came before — and angry at the disease that keeps taking away his relatives before their time.

— Kenny