Where Have I Been? – Everything is Different

Welcome back to another edition of “Blog Worthy?”.  Before I start with the article, I believe an explanation is in order. I realize the last time I posted was mid-August of 2017 and it’s now April of 2018. I’m so sorry for not being able to post more articles. My life got more and more hectic every single day and even when spare moments came to me, writing just seemed like it would hurt me rather than help. Hopefully as time moves forward I’ll be able to post on a regular schedule like I had originally intended, but for the time being the articles are going to be a little sporadic. Now, let’s get onto the article.

In August everything had started fine. We had celebrated my grandpa’s birthday; I was doing summer homework for school; everything just seemed to be pretty okay. That’s when life decided to throw me a curveball. On my grandma’s birthday my grandpa ended up in the hospital. We were all so concerned, but he never failed to smile and decided we continue my grandma’s birthday in his hospital room. His doctors said he needed an operation and if we went through with it, everything would be okay. That was the worst lie I’ve ever been told.

My grandpa went through with the procedure and afterwards was starting to recover. He was moved to a room upstairs where he could continue to rest. He needed something to help him breathe while he was recovering, but one night he took it off. Something about him was different. That fighting nature I’d always seen in his eyes had left. He had never looked more defeated. After that he had needed to be tied down to the bed while he slept so he wouldn’t be able to remove the machine that helped him breathe.

Eventually things got worse and worse. He had been in the hospital for quite some time and eventually was moved downstairs once again because he wasn’t getting any better. My mom and I drove hours every day to visit him. We would even sleep at my grandparent’s apartment when it was too late at night for us to drive back home. It became routine, but it was a routine I hated. One I thought would never end, and if it did, it would end in a way I never wanted to see.

After about three weeks of my grandpa in the hospital, my mom and I drove back to one weekend. We were left alone with my grandpa and his nurse for the day while my grandma and aunt went back to their homes to freshen up and get some much needed sleep. During that time with my grandpa he seemed to be doing much better. He was never able to stand, but his nurse, my mom and I helped him to stand and eventually sit in a chair rather than having him be trapped in that wretched bed of his all day. He seemed happy that he had accomplished this huge feat. It was then I started to believe everything would be okay. My mom and I left happy that night. The feeling didn’t last long.

Soon after I had to start the new school year. Everything wasn’t too new except for the crazy amounts of homework and club work I had to do. Recently I joined my school’s Make-A-Wish club’s board. I was bulletin editor, which helped to pile up my work load. Taking classes much harder than I expected also didn’t help. Some days I would have to go the hospital with hours of homework under my belt and would have to stay up when I got home to finish it.

We had entered the fourth week of my grandpa being in the hospital. That day I had spoken about when I had finally thought everything would be okay had brought me hope. This week stripped me of any and all hope. On September 17, I had a photoshoot with my fellow board members for our club. Everything seemed to be going fine, but later that evening my mom received a phone call from my aunt. She said that she wasn’t sure if my grandpa was going to survive the night. We rushed over to the hospital and got there late. I remember having family and friends joining around my grandpa and we didn’t do anything that night but pray and cry.

I thought he was doing better, but that night seemed to be the night everyone realized that my grandpa would be gone very, very soon. We went home after realizing there was nothing we could do. I didn’t sleep until 3 in the morning and woke up three hours later rushing because I would be late to my class that started at 7. My mom had decided to take a day off so she could get to the hospital and spend the day with my grandpa, while I was trapped in school. However something did make up for it.

That day I had been assigned an English project. I was so beat I didn’t even realize what was going on when I walked into that class. I sat at the table I usually sat, but a new friend of mine had been sitting in my chair. I wasn’t sure what was going on until he had told me we would be working with the group we were sitting with. For the purpose of this article we shall be calling this new friend of mine Eric. I was so sleep deprived and tired, I ended up rambling on about everything I could think of to Eric. We had another group member as well, and he ended up doing most of the work while I Eric and I talked. I do feel bad for that, but long story short I ended up with Eric’s phone number.

The day I did end up with Eric’s number was September 20th. Eventually I went back to the hospital with my homework and after checking in on my grandpa I was sent to the waiting room with my brother and his girlfriend, my cousin and his girlfriend, and a few other people so we wouldn’t crowd my grandpa and to eat. I did text Eric about homework which escalated to us getting to know each other, but I’ll be discussing that in more detail in a later article. My mom, grandma, and aunt had stayed with my grandpa just a little longer before coming out to eat with us. When they did, they wanted to discuss something with my brother, cousin and I. They wanted to talk about pulling the plug on my grandpa’s life.

Deep down we must’ve seen where they were coming from. My grandpa was suffering and the only thing keeping him alive was the machine practically forcing him to continue breathing. However, I was outraged. I locked myself in a bathroom stall for I don’t even know how long. I eventually came out, but I refused to hear anything of the sort. Yet I knew this wasn’t my decision. I had a say in it yes, but in the long run it came down to the adults.

My grandma’s siblings had arrived from the Philippines that night too. They came to the hospital and afterwards all of us filed into my grandpa’s room. We had so much family, and so many friends with us there that night. We stood in a circle and prayed hoping that a miracle would come and if not, that my grandpa would go peacefully. My grandma, mom and aunt consulted the doctor afterwards and decided that tomorrow would be the day to let my grandpa go.

My mom and I didn’t go home that night and I did not plan on going to school the next morning. We stayed with my grandma at her apartment and we didn’t sleep for hours. Soon enough morning came. We got ready and stepped outside. The sky was grey and everyone was miserable. We got to the hospital early in the morning with my aunt and my cousin. My brother said he was on his way but traffic was very bad.

We held out for as long as we could so my brother could say goodbye, but we knew it was time. My grandma went to get the doctor so he could remove the machine that was my grandpa’s lifeline. All of us gathered by my grandpa’s bed and held his hands. I remember saying goodbye and him squeezing my hand for the last time. I didn’t realize that my grandma’s birthday would be the last time I heard him laugh, talk, and smile. I didn’t realize that September 21st would be the day I had to say goodbye to the only father figure I had in my life. I didn’t realize how much saying goodbye would hurt.

The doctor removed the machine and we waited for my grandpa to shut his eyes and drift off to a life better than this one. We stayed by his side the entire time, crying and holding onto his hands. He took three long and slow breaths before he left. I never thought I would have to say goodbye to my grandpa, but when I did, it was so incredibly hard.

My brother and his girlfriend arrived a little bit after my grandpa had passed. My brother stood by my grandpa and held his lifeless hand and cried as we were all still doing. Never in my life had I seen my brother so vulnerable. The doctor and nurses came into my grandpa’s room afterwards and said they needed to clean his room so that his body could be prepared for the funeral services to take care of later. My grandma had always been the one to help clean up my grandpa, so she asked to do it for the very last time. All of us were broken hearted but my grandma took it the hardest. They had been together for a little over 50 years, and this would be the first time she felt so alone.

I think this is the first time any of us had felt so alone. I’ll be honest with you guys; I started this article in January and am just now continuing it. I’d like to say that I’m feeling so much better after all this time  but in reality time hasn’t helped coping with the feeling of loss at all. My whole family and I are still trying to understand why it was my grandpa’s time to leave. It’s been a rough few months but I couldn’t be more grateful for all the support and love that has been thrown my way.

Thank you for reading this week’s edition of “Blog Worthy?”. I’ll try my best to get articles up more frequently but with all the craziness coming near the end of the school year, I’m not so sure how well that is going to go. Be sure to stick around for the next edition.

 

*This article was not edited by Nik*