Saturday November 4, 7:00 am
I sleep throughout the night without incident. I wake up, check on my grandmother and decide to step out of the hospital to purchase some breakfast and clothing. I know that I will be spending the rest of my weekend there. I don’t care, as long as I am near my grandmother. A couple of hours later I return to my grandmother who is now alert. Her eyes welcome me, however as I gaze into them, I feel her spirit slowly evaporating.
“Good morning, mami. How are you feeling?” I ask.
“I’m feeling Okay…”she says coughing phlegm repeatedly and spitting it into a container.
“Did you stay with me last night?” she asks.
“Yes. The staff brought me a bed and pillow, and today they gave me a towel. I went to the store and bought some extra clothes and some snacks. I will stay here with you until you are discharged. If you need anything, please let me know. Has anyone come in to give you a sponge bath yet?” I ask.
“No. No one’s been here” she replies.
“Okay, well let me take a shower and I will ask for towelettes so I can refresh you” I say.
Upon finishing my extremely-luke-warm-borderline-cold shower, I ask the nurse for some body towelettes and begin to clean my grandmother’s limbs and back. She will have to wait for the nurse to come in and finish the rest of her body. For most of the day, grandma rests in bed as I read my book, For One More Day by Mitch Albom. I also keep my family informed as to my grandmother’s health status.
For lunch and dinner, I spoon-feed my fragile, beloved matriarch. Since keeping my grandmother on her respirator is paramount, I have to be particular on how I feed her. First, everything has to be minced. She exerts too much effort trying to swallow chunks of nourishment. I can’t afford to make her situation worst.
The evening is upon us and I am in the pleasant company of a much-welcomed visitor, Kelley. She has traveled from Santa Monica to provide me support in my hour of need.
“Grandma, Kelley and I are going out to get something to eat. I will be right back” I say.
We walk out of the hospital and drive to the nearest burger stand a block away.
My dinner excursion isn’t long. Yet when I return, I walk into a room filled with hospital staff members restraining my grandmother.
“Ctian!” she cries, “They are trying to kill me. Leave me alone. Don’t touch me. STOP TRYING TO KILL ME!”
“Grandma, calm down. Nobody is trying to kill you. Everyone here is trying to help you. Please stop,” I exclaim, as my eyes fill with tears. I can only see blurry images moving around tying her arms to the bed railing.
“Ctian please tell them to leave me alone.” She continues to cry out.
I feel helpless. While my gut instinct tells me to pull these people away and protect the love of my life, I have to stand at bay and let the professionals do their work. Once my grandmother is bound like a harmless, helpless creature; the hospital staff allows me to approach her to pacify her.
“What happened?”
“Well sir, while you were out Carmen began taking out all her I.V.’s She insisted that she we were trying to kill her and that it would be best if we would just leave her alone to die. We called you,” I promptly check my phone, and notice that I have just received a phone call from Norman. “and asked a family member to come a help us with the situation. We were told that someone was here and that they would try to contact you,” the nurse explains.
“I am so sorry. I went out to get a bite to eat. I wouldn’t have guessed that something like this would have happened. I am here now, and I will tend to her now.”
As the hospital staff walk out of the room, I sit in a chair next to her bed and hold her hand, comforting her.
“Grandma, you can’t be doing this,” I tell her.
“Well this place just wants to kill me. Everyone here wants to kill me. Please, mijo, not you too. Please don’t kill me,” she pleads.
I can’t withhold my tears any more and blurt out crying, “Grandma, I love you and I promise I will not hurt you. I don’t want you to die.”
She doesn’t utter a sound. She stares lifeless towards the ceiling, while I weep myself to sleep.