The sight of my father's hand being tied to the hospital bed still haunt me.How he screamed because he didn't want the tube to be inserted inside his stomach through his nose.
The nurses and the M.O at that time were nonchalant even as I shouted at them to not hurt him.One of them was casually talking with another about something not related to my father.I was almost hysterical and little did I know that the doctors knew that my father will not make it.Is was a matter of days.The tube episode was on Friday and he left us on Sunday morning.
When they left,I stroked his hands and told him this is temporary.His eyes stared at me and tears actually rolled down his cheek while he tried to move his hands.I broke down and said sorry that he had to go through so much discomfort.
My father was admitted to the hospital on the 1st of April because he was not eating for God knows how long.He had other sicknesses which I only knew when he was in the hospital.I felt like kicking my ownself for not noticing his pain whenever I went to his house.I thought that he was shrinking due to old age.Afterall he was taken care by his wife,my stepmom and their sons.
So I accompanied my father throughout his two weeks in the hospital.Me and my daughter.He was drifting from what I assumed was sleep.Most of the time he had his eyes closed.His eyes was infected and sometimes I helped the nurse to apply the eye medicine.He was scared of the nurses although they were friendly.
We took turns to feed him the porridge and milk from the box.Most of the time he would refused the porridge but he drank the milk heartily.The two weeks was our bonding time.A strange place to bond but honest to God ,I was happy being with him alone in the room.You could hear the sound of Azan very clearly from his room and I prayed in the hospital room.I asked God to ease his pain.
So the two weeks of climbing the stairs to the 8th floor is over because on the 15th,he passed away peacefully.
Prior to his death,my father was not the same like he used to be.He became a recluse about two years ago and he seldom speak.All he did was smile at us.Even then I cannot stomach the fact that he had changed.Slowly he began to lose weight but they said it's the age factor and that he was fine.I believed them.
Bapak was never fine,he became weaker and that's when we decided to take him to the hospital.
I have good memories of him but the fact that he was untreated earlier,the fact that he became malnourished, dehydrated will haunt me.
During his funeral I saw how they buried him,the men had to step on the soil that covered his coffin.It hurts but that's how it should be.When you return to your Maker,you are alone and whoever you are,you will be stepped on..
