The younger brother of my father was a doctor, a physician. He worked in a large central hospital in a southern Ukrainian coastal city, Kherson. He was flamboyant and very attractive to women, and he talked extremely fast.
He was married at least twice. His first wife was a doctor herself, a blond, energetic lady. I met their daughter who looked exactly like her only twice. His second wife was a striking brunette, a physical therapist or something, she had her children already.
He supplied us with largely unnecessary prescription drugs, that were kept in a living room, and I was made to take them, including antibiotics, by any sign of a cold. This practice was not his fault, he personally only advised on most efficient ways to take them.
The last things I ever heard about my uncle is that he had a stroke, the recovery was long, and it annoyed his wife.
He was fast-paced and had an entrepreneurial streak. I remember him being witty, optimistic, and rather caring. He was so different from his siblings that I perceived him more as a friend.
