Hauntings

It's my grandmother's 10th day at the hospital. It was new year's eve when we noticed that she wasn't feeling well--- an observation she easily dismissed, probably an effort on her part not to ruin the festivities. I was on duty at the emergency room on the first day of the year, and on the wee hours of January 2, he was noted to be stuporous, so they may parents immediately brought her to our hospital of choice. My dad said she was unconscious when they arrived, and her heart stopped beating for a few seconds so they had to do some cardioversion. All that time my phone was dead--- it was a busy day at the emergency room, the aftermath of new year's eve festivities. I made a lot of calls, referrals and such. As expected I was accused of deliberately turning my phone off--- something I chose not to dwell on, else I might be ranting about it again, sounding like a broken record for the nth time. So I only heard the news when I got home... how everyone thought she was not going to make it, how my dad was panicking and made a huge commotion at the emergency room, how final plans have been made in the event that the unfortunate should happen... That afternoon I went straight to the hospital and found her at the ICU, still unconscious.

She has been moved since to the telemetry unit. Her heartbeat is still erratic, so they couldn't just transfer her to a regular room. Her attending physician told us that the definitive cure would be mitral valve replacement--- but that's not really an option. At her age, most likely she wouldn't survive the procedure. It's to in fro the hospital from here on out. Palliative treatment until the fateful day comes.

For the past few days, hospital visits have become increasingly sentimental. She still can't stand on he own, she still can't sit on her own... I wonder if she could ever be the same again, back to the way she once was. She's quite delirious at times, often restless. Making us promise to take her to this miraculous pilgrimage site so that she would be well again... all that catholic fanaticism makes me cringe deep inside. She makes us promise to do many other things, for the family, for others, to preserve a legacy... and during mellow moments, there's all these talk about the past... about how she was so happy the day that I was born--- the first born grandchild always seems to be the favorite of grandparents. How on the first day of school they found me crying under a tree after class because I thought they left me behind. A number of other anecdotes, selected chapters from the book of my life. The last one being how proud she was when I finally became a doctor.

Then it hit me. She has known me all my life. She remembers things that i couldn't even remember. I lived with her all my life, yet i barely know her. I don't know what her childhood was like, how her parents are, what her brothers and sisters were like... all I know is that presently, they have all passed away. I know she wanted to be a doctor, and that she had to let go of their dreams because it was impossible to hold on to your dreams during world war II... all that danger they had to face everyday, problems regarding finances and resources... but beyond that, I'm not aware of the details to fully empathize with all the hardships she had to go through. It's hard to appreciate all the things she has done for us, so that we wouldn't have to go through the same things, if I couldn't relate to those things, if I feel so detached from everything. It's hard to show my sentimental side when it's a side of me that i often choose to hide... especially when there are other family members in the room with us, but maybe, hopefully, when I've put all that pride and unfounded shame aside... little by little, in the coming days, I could finally start getting to know her. I know that if i wait to long, I may never get the opportunity.

Before I left, I gave her something sweet, and something salty, all things i know that she shouldn't be eating, but what the heck. Those simple things are what she has been craving. The smile that i saw on her face as she took several bites was a smile that i haven't seen on her in a long time. It was a childlike smile, the type of smile that conveys happiness that we find harder to encounter as we grow older. And knowing that I may not see her smile like that several years, or even months from now, i had to fight back my tears because I didn't want to show her that side of me, my weak side. Looking at her like that, i couldn't help but cry.