Julio

His name was Julio Hernán Saltos Bravo and he was 45-years-old.

My beloved brother was a clinical laboratory scientist in Ecuador. He was always kind and compassionate towards his patients; he used to say, ‘people come first’. He was a very supportive person, detached from material things, and had a generous heart.

Among his hobbies were martial arts, and when he was younger he was also a runner. One of his dreams was to buy a piece of land and build a small farm. He was a strong, agile and courageous man.

He suffered from epilepsy, yet he always lived without fear. Later on, his medication was changed and he stopped having seizures for quite some time. He was also honoured with a certificate as a hero during the Covid period because he continued working in the hospital where he was employed, helping others during one of the most difficult times.

My brother had a disability from a young age, although I do not know all the details exactly. What my mother told me was that when he was born, he turned purple because of a lack of oxygen at birth.

He was an incredibly hardworking man. Even after knee surgery he continued working, and because he placed work above his health, he eventually had to undergo another operation. He used to tell me that at work he was not only performing the duties of a qualified laboratory professional, but also those of an assistant. I remember one occasion when he rang me in tears, saying he could not remain there.

My brother was a unique human being. Today, it pains me deeply to remember him. He would always say, ‘do not thank me, thank the One above. It is the will of the One above’. He took out life insurance for the family in case something ever happened to him. Until the very end, he thought of us, and that hurts me even more.

My mother, my sister and I struggle with this pain every single day. I often ask myself why it had to happen this way. I also wonder why the doctors never told us about SUDEP. Had I known more about epilepsy and its risks, I would have done everything possible to stop him from living alone. He had always been an independent man and nothing like this had ever happened before.

Sometimes I think that, if I had known more about the condition, perhaps I could have saved him. I used to tell him, ‘brother, I will always save you’, because many times either we, or the little dog he had, would alert us when something was wrong.

It hurts in the depths of my soul, and I feel it was unfair to him. He gave so much to others and never truly worried about his own condition because he lived fearlessly. He graduated, worked hard, became independent, and was always respectful, polite and cheerful.

I will always say that he was the best of us.

Jose