Friday November 3, just after 5:30 a.m.
“Who are you?” she asks “I’m Carmen Cortez from El Salvador, are you also going to the United States?”
“Grandma it’s me, Ctian,” I say trying to get her to finish waking up. I’m already up trying to tend to her. She seems to recognize me in the darkness, when all of a sudden she cries out,
“Oh no, Ctian, someone is trying to kill us! Someone is outside the window and has a gun!”
She is frantic and adamant that someone is outside trying to kill us. She warns me not to go near the window and begins to whine and cry.
“No grandma, nobody is outside. Look… I will close the curtain. Don’t worry grandma I will protect you,” I state in an effort to calm her down.
“No Ctian, please don’t. Stay away from the window.” she says hysterically.
I obey. I go to her and hold her close attempting to calm her down. Once she is composed and things are calm we talk about how she is feeling and how I wish she will settle down and rest. Our subsequent conversation stuns me. I don’t know how she knows but she utters,
“Son, please stop thinking about killing yourself. I love you, and your mother loves you. You do have a purpose in this world. Please promise me that you will never kill yourself.”
I’m speechless. How did she know of my impure thoughts, when I hadn’t told anyone?
“Grandma, of course I don’t want to kill myself” I reply, lying to her. “Don’t worry about me, grandma. I will be okay,” I add.
“I love you mijo.” She says.
“I love you too Grandma,” I answer.
I know that things are really serious when she asks me to help her go to the restroom. I am exasperated with the amount of clutter in her room. She can’t stand on her own and my attempts to help her are confined by the limited space I have to hold her, in addition her weight is too much for me to bear. “Mom” I cry, “Mom… Mom…. Ma! I need your help. She needs to go to the restroom and she can’t move on her own.”
“Okay,” she says still groggy from being asleep.
My mom gets up and tries unsuccessfully to move her.
“Mama, you need to try to move your legs” my mom pleads.
“Menche…” (Menche is my mom’s nickname. Her name is actually M, but they call her Menche.) “…I can’t.” Grandma replies.
“Okay, mama. mijo, we’re going to use the bedpan,” she says as she turns to me. “Please take out the aluminum chair that has a toilet seat on in it. Place it somewhere where it will fit.” I promptly comply with her request.
“Mama, you will need to help us move you to the chair. Please move slowly towards the bottom edge of the bed, so Ctian and I can lift you and move you towards the chair.”
Slowly, grandma moves with our assistance.
“Okay, 1… 2… 3…” My mom and I lift her and scoot her to the chair.
When grandma is done, my mom and I talk about calling the doctor. She informs me that we will need to wait until nine to call since the doctor’s office opens at that time. So I wait two hours and call the doctor at about eight-thirty. I explain to the doctor the symptoms my grandmother was showing and he informs me that I should call 911 and get her to the hospital with haste. It’s at this point where; I know I will need to summon all my strength and face adversity.
I chase the polished cherry-red paramedic as its siren screams “MOOOOVE OUT OF THE WAY, CTIAN’S GRANDMOTHER IS VERY SICK AND WE NEED TO GET HER TO THE HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW!”
I park in the first space I find and rush into the emergency room. It’s now time for me to take charge. Even though my mother rode in the ambulance, I am the one who was level headed enough to speak for my dear grandmother. Although I’m exhausted, having only slept an hour or two in the past 36 hours, my adrenaline and coffee keep me going.
The nurse addresses me, “Excuse me sir you need to wait outside in the waiting room.”
“I’m sorry but this is my grandmother and I have been with her all night and I’m the only one that knows her condition. If at all possible, I would like to stay with her until the doctor sees her.” I reply.
“Okay, but only until the doctor sees her.”
“Thank you,” I sigh.
Time seems to have stopped. I check the time when we come in. It’s ten in the morning… still time for breakfast. I walk down the lobby to the waiting area and ask my mother and J to please get me something to eat. While J is away, my mother and I sit and talk about things I should know about grandma; what type of medicine she is on… what she is allergic to… anything that would be pertinent to the situation.
“I don’t feel well” my mother states.
“Just wait for J, eat and then if you still don’t feel well go home and rest. I’m here. Everything is under control. I will keep you informed if her situation changes.” I tell her.
“Okay, we’ll see how I feel after I eat.”
An hour later, J comes back with food from McDonalds. Life is moving in slow motion. Every minute there feels like an eternity. I check the time again and it’s only one in the afternoon. It has been a little bit over an hour since my mother and J voyaged back into the outside world, while grandma and I battle fear, exhaustion, and her illness.
“Good afternoon, what brings you to the emergency room today” says the doctor.
“Hello doctor, I’m C and this is my grandmother.” I continue to explain to him everything that has transpired over the past fifteen hours.
“Well let’s run some tests and figure out what is wrong with her. I can see that her blood oxygen level is low, so we are going to give her pure oxygen to raise her level. I’ll be back later to give you the results of our findings.”
“Thank you doctor” I say, as he walks out of the room.
I am determined to serve as my grandmother’s personal nurse. Every time something beeps, I page the nurse and document in my head every single movement they make so I am able to take care of non-emergency issues.
“Beep… beep… beep” sound the monitors, monitoring my grandmother’s heartbeat.
“hisssssss” exhales the oxygen mask, which covers her nose and mouth.
“Dr. so and so you are needed in…” says the P.A. system. I sit on the floor and listen to the emergency room. I can feel the room inhale and exhale.
“How routine this is for hospital staff workers”, I think. “People come in and out, live and die. They seem to be immune to the pain.”
I hear a lady crying in the next room.
Outside I hear a doctor preparing staff members, “We are getting a Medivac patient. They are flying him in… E.T.A. 15 minutes. Head trauma resulting from a vehicle collision; we need…” his directions cause me to reminisce about my tragic car accident. I can only wish that it isn’t quite severe.
For the next couple of hours I sit on the floor, pace around the confines of my quarantine cell, anxiously waiting for the doctor to return with good news.
The doctor walks in as I am trying to nap, crouching on the floor.
“It seems that what your grandmother has is a case of pneumonia in the lower part of her right lung. Her symptoms substantiate our findings. Her delusional state is caused by her low blood oxygen level, which is correlated to her lung being infected. Your grandmother will need to be admitted into the hospital for a couple of days. This way we can monitor her progress.”
This wasn’t good news.
“I understand. Thank you, doctor. Since I am the only family here with her, do you believe that I can stay with her overnight?” I ask, prepared to hear a “no.”
“I can’t make that call. You need to ask the admitting staff later when they come down to get some information from you and her.”
“Okay, thank you again doctor” I say.
I sit waiting patiently, until we are moved upstairs. Grandma is lying in bed with her eyes closed, when out of nowhere she says…
“F? Why? I loved you! Why?”
I become cold, stricken with fear. I think to myself that the moment people start communicating with the dead; the cold ominous hands of death are nearby. I can only hope that somehow it would forget about her and move on. Crouching in the corner of the room, I cry profusely as I hear my grandmother have a conversation with my deceased grandfather. She speaks pauses and replies to the inaudible comments.
I feel helpless.
“Why? How? Please someone stop this madness” I think to myself.
We are in another room by seven-thirty. After speaking with the hospital personnel, I am allowed to stay with my grandmother until she is discharged.
The wonderful staff brings me a gurney, blankets and a pillow.
“Sorry it’s not the Ritz Carlton” the nurse jokes.
“It’s fine, as long as I get a continental breakfast and the paper in the morning” I scoff back.
“How about free cable?” he says.
“Fine, I guess.” I say laughing.
It’s ten in the evening, when I turn off the light, leaving the one above her headboard on.
“I love you Grandma. Good night!”

Part 3 tomorrow

Nice write.

so heartfelt,, such deep love and devotion... Heartwrenching