Experiences
The wait I
..
We were all settled in. Tonight's family movie of choice was "Hitman". I chose it. It's one of the good ones. I put the DVD in and we started to watch.. Then the phone rang.
I had been dreading this call even though I knew it would come. He was being transferred to another hospital because he needs a specialist, things have escalated and he is rapidly declining. We all rushed to the vehicles. Numbly, I noticed the dark waning moon as I got into the car.
We didn't drive in silence. We talked about anything and everything. We rambled.
As we got out of the car at the hospital. I looked up at the same moon I'd seen outside my home and I said a little prayer before walking into the hospital. Turned out we'd beat the ambulance here. So we waited. The waiting was torture. I tried to play only good scenarios in my head and then to distract me, Hamin (cousin) told me about the night he'd lost his dad last year. It wasn't until he'd reached the end of his story and I'd seen the glint of tears in his eyes that it occurred to me that I wasn't the only one needing the distraction.
The ambulance finally arrived.
As we walked into the hospital I felt my stomach sink. This is the same hospital where I am supposed to begin my internship on Monday. God, please no. We met up with the familiar faces of other family members. Cousins, brothers, aunts. In hushed tones we said our Hi's and in even quieter tones we asked how he was doing. It was still unclear.
I knew what the outcome might be. I knew it. I knew it. But you can't prepare yourself for this. You simply can't.
My heart is pounding. And my breaths are coming in short, uneven gasps. I feel myself start to sweat behind my neck and in my pits. I instruct myself to remain calm.
I watched as he was moved from the ambulance to the gurney. I caught only a glimpse. But he looked weak and small. He had so many tubes and wires connected to him. I felt my hands shake.
I knew what the outcome might be. I knew. We all knew. But that doesn't stop you from doing your damnedest for a man you've loved since you were just a kid.
So he was moved to the ICU. We, the young adults, were asked to remain outside. The others went in. We were shown to the waiting area and there we sat and waited. At first, we tried to converse - small talk with mumbled replies. But then as if by mutual agreement, we all got quiet; each lost in their own thoughts. The silence was deafening. I felt as if time wasn't moving at all or as if it was moving too fast. I just knew that I was scared. Very, very scared.
And so the waiting continued. It went on and on and before I knew it, it was past midnight. 4 hours had gone by like a breeze. Time really is relative, isn't it?
We waited.
A quiet hospital, late at night is a scary place. I'd never noticed it before. Or was it only scary because someone I loved was barely hanging on his life?
The waiting continued.
For about an hour or so, I found a small measure of relief. The cousins, who were left sitting on a stone bench outside began to talk. We even managed a few laughs and teases at the expense of another cousin. I looked around at some point and realized that we were soothing each other with our stories and humor. Even in the midst of all that was going on.. The waiting, the dread.. It was a good moment.
But then the silence returned and the waiting continued. I didn't like the waiting. It gave my imagination the chance to run absolutely wild.
An aunt came out and notified us that he had been put on life support. No visitors - so none of us could see him till the next morning. It was past 2 am when we left the hospital.
As we were leaving, I paused in the car park and found the moon again. I said another prayer before I got into the car and drove back home. My prayer was that when I stood in that same position in the morning, I wouldn't have lost an uncle.
And so I waited.
0 comments: