This past week has proved to be one of the difficult days for the whole family. My maternal grandfather, Atok as we lovingly call him, has been admitted into Intensive Care Unit (ICU) last Friday for lung infection and later suspected of H1N1 virus attack. He has been the only grandfather that I have grown up knowing. My paternal grandfather passed away long time ago when I was too young to understand the meaning of love.
Looking at him lying helpless on the bed depending on machines, I myself feel helpless. He used to be that soldier who fought against communist and contributed to the independence of the country that I now happily live in. When I first visited him at the hospital, he was still able to talk though with respiratory disorder. He was happy to see his grandchildren, in deed. My heart cried silently when he thanked me for being there for him.
My mother and a sister took turn to wait for him in the hospital. My sister told me she had witnessed four deaths within the course of 3 days. My family and close relatives have been discussing on the course of event if the doctor were to say the usual things when there is no hope left. Whose heart would not break when you know for certain it is only a matter of time for the loved one to leave for good.
When the lung has been less critical, the kidney malfunctions. One after another before the whole body system corrupts.
I was in the plane yesterday, after shedding some tears in the airport, mind you in the public area, when I thought of the assignment I made during my first year of law school. It was not for a law-related subject but for an English class. I wrote on Bereavement and how to deal with bereavement. I bet I had to tell you this, no amount of reading and information and motivation will prepare you for the reality.
When the reality hits you, it hits you hard.
I tried to ignore the what-if questions and tried to focus on praying for the betterment of his health. But 6 days and no improvement, I am better off preparing for the opposite fate too.