Call me Charon for the meantime

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May 4, 2006
Thursday

Grandfather in his first few days in the hospital

[Counting days of poor appetite and without much sleep, I wish that Grandfather finally dies gracefully, and that I may regain my own zest in life after this taxing responsibility.]

I just got home two hours ago. I just finished a late lunch and checked my e-mails.

Grandfather is still confined in Seven Oaks General Hospital. Today is "our" 19th day there. At the rate his health and test results are going, Death is inevitably just waiting 'round the corners.

Yes, Grandfather is getting weaker and weaker and very incoherent by the day. His bouts of crankiness and memory failure are becoming more frequent. His heartbeat rate never goes down 140 per minute, way high.

During his first through second week in the hospital, I just stay with him during visiting hours, 11 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. However, my relatives decided to let me stay there overnight every day. Of course, I couldn't refuse, no matter how resentful I feel of this. My own health is turning bad as well. Sometimes, I feel that my relatives are desperately trying to extend the life of 91-year-old Grandfather at the expense of my own life.

For the past 4 days, I haven't been sleeping and eating well. Imagine, I have to ready myself around 5:30 p.m., then get back to the hospital. I'd be staying there until 12 the next day! Of course, I don't get to sleep there. Aside from my having to stay on a reclinable chair, the restlessness of Grandfather through the night is keeping me awake.

I have been reduced to a Charon, waiting for Grandfather's death.

I usually arrived back home to rest and sleep at around 1:30 p.m. Do you think I can still sleep within 2:00 p.m. to 5 p.m.?

Do you think I can maintain a good appetite?

Most of the times I'm too exhausted to rest and sleep. I just lie on the bed and stare catatonically on the ceiling. I'm also too hungry to even eat a morsel. I'm starting to feel back and neck pains. I sometimes feel nauseous and light-headed, obviously because of the lack of sleep. Add to that, my own anxiety with the thought of my having to be the one to wait for Grandfather's death before my eyes.

All I really wish now is for Grandfather finally to rest in peace.

He has been suffering for quite some time now.

I, too, have been secretly and silently suffering myself.

And my relatives are seemingly focused on trying to extend Grandfather's life, oblivious of the physical and emotional sufferings that I continuously experience from having been tasked as the caregiver of Grandfather for almost three years now.

If ever they'll ask me to make a speech on Grandfather's funeral, I might utter these few words:

"Now that Grandfather had finally rested for good, I am glad. For, both of us are finally liberated--he from pain and suffering; I, from bondage and deprivation. As he now rests in peace, I may now enjoy my freedom and go on with my own life. Grandfather's death is a rebirth of mine."