Brendan Costello's family was preparing to say their final farewells, but he had one last request. In the dim light of the hospital, they gathered around him. Despite overcoming numerous challenges in his life, the severe brain damage he suffered meant Brendan would never be the same. The moment had come.
After enduring four months of medical procedures, including three surgeries and extensive rehabilitation due to infections that further compromised his already fragile spine, Brendan returned to his Upper West Side apartment in late December. He aimed to resume the life he had paused, but three weeks later, he suffered cardiac arrest and lost consciousness permanently.
His sister, Darlene, remained by his side in the intensive care unit at Mount Sinai Morningside hospital. She ensured his favorite music played continuously from a portable speaker near his bed. The raspy insights of Tom Waits, the cool jazz of Charles Mingus, and the lively sounds of New Orleans jazz filled the room.
The music reflected Brendan's spirit: a blend of dark humor and Irish fatalism, tinged with hope and wonder. Although he used a wheelchair, he refused to let it define him.
After tests showed no possibility of regaining consciousness, a difficult decision was made. Brendan's ventilator was scheduled to be removed at 1 p.m. on Sunday, January 19, five days after his collapse. He was 55 years old.