Monday November 6
I am becoming accustomed to waking up in a sun-drenched room. Being on the fifth floor, I have a nice vista of the mountains and hills; the views of the sunsets are spectacular and inspiring. This day begins with my normal routine; I take a shower and give my grandma a towel bath. Since Saturday, therapists come in and perform scheduled treatment to assist her with her ailment. This time, however, will not be normal. The therapist, briefs me on the situation. My grandmother’s blood oxygen level is not progressing as they have hoped. They are pumping her with a low but steady flow of pure oxygen, which would, normally increase the blood oxygen level in the average patient, but unfortunately it is not benefiting her. They are going to increase the flow of oxygen and monitor her progress, and if this does not help her, they will need to take different actions.
“Sir, please make sure that you place the mask back on her after every spoonful of food. It is important that she relax and limits the amount of conversation. By helping her do this you are help us properly monitor her progress. If your grandmother doesn’t increase her oxygen level we may need to move her down to I.C.U.”, the nurse informs me, stressing how important it was for me to follow her directions.
“Honeyyyy?” I call my grandma. It is an on going joke we have. My grandmother used to work as a housecleaner and caregiver for an elderly lady. “Honeyy” is what her former boss used to call her when she needed anything.
“Honeyyyy?” I say again. “You heard what the therapist said. You need to rest. Do you want me to turn on the T.V.?” I ask. She shakes her head gently indicating “no”.
Softly she says, “Will you sing to me? I haven’t heard you sing in a very long time. I can remember when you loved to sing and dance. Remember when we danced the polka at Alpine Village?”
“Yes” I reply softly. I haven’t sung for anyone in a very long time. I don’t know why but I feel very nervous. I remember when she and my mom went to see me at a Ctmas performance at Saint Vincent’s hospital, when I was part of a chorus back in 1978.
“Okay grandma but you must promise to relax. I will sing you all the Spanish songs I know from my ipod, okay?” I ask and she nods contently. I walk towards the window, sit in the beige metallic rocking chair, turn my ipod on to my Spanish play list, stare out the window at the vista, and begin to sing. Luis Miguel singing “Usted” is the first song that plays. I sing that song with so much emotion that I choke up towards the middle of the song and begin to cry. After a couple of songs have played, I regain my composure and continue crooning my grandmother with the songs of yesteryear, songs she loved growing up listening to. A couple of times I am caught off-guard by one of the staff members, as they stand by the door listening to me sing.
“Wow, you have a nice voice. She must be really special, for you to share your beautiful voice with,” the nurse compliments me.
“Yes… yes she is. She is my grandma; my life, my love.” I reply confidently
“She’s very fortunate to have a grandson who loves her very much.” She adds as she is turning to walk away.
“Thank you” I say, as I continue to pick up where the song was. Soon it is lunchtime, and while I prepare dicing the solid food, I continue to sing. I follow the therapist’s explicit directions; remove the mask, feed, replace the mask, repeat as needed.
Night is fast approaching. J calls me to see if I wanted anything to eat.
“Pizza and beer sounds good,” I say. “We can eat while we watch the Raiders lose again”
“Okay, that’s cool. I know of a good pizza place. I don’t think that the hospital will let me bring in beer though.” He replies.
“Fine, Coke will do. I’ll see you soon… Later.” I hang up and move my chair close to her bed. I hold her hand, and I focus on happy thoughts. Hoping that my thoughts will surge, like water escaping a dam, from my heart to hers. The therapist returns to make sure her oxygen level is rising, however, her findings are not encouraging. Even with the intense steady flow of oxygen, my grandmother’s level is still the same and at times worse.

Part 5b tomorrow

I'm on a quest to find parts 1-4,,, Enjoyed very much

Thank you for reading my story. You may find the rest under: community>poems and creative writing> touching story


Thank you again. I really hope you get a chance to read all of them. Feel free to let your friends know.

C