A little while ago I mentioned in this blog that I wanted to write some stuff but had an episode. It's difficult to write about this but it is something I gotta do. This is the first installment.
Preparing mutton soup can be a painstakingly long process. Especially, when you're preparing it to feed close to 400 soldiers. A glance towards the clock tells me that it had been almost an hour. It's almost done but I'll let it simmer for about 15 more minutes.
That was when I decided to go for a smoke break. It was a first for me. Usually I'd go for a break after I'm done cooking. It was a strange morning. My inner senses were on overdrive but I just can't seem to figure out what's bothering me. I'd done halfway when I put out the cancer stick. Something in me became real urgent. Rational thoughts aligned with reason of immorality; leaving behind the soup undone. As I strode into the kitchen again, a dear colleague rushed up to me and put out her hand to me. In it was a piece of crumpled paper. I looked at it blankly. Before I could say anything she held my shoulder and said that I should call the number scribbled in the piece of paper that I held.
I examined the piece and could make out a cell phone number. Familiar. It was my sister's. I looked at my colleague. She was looking strangely at me. I was trying to figure out where she'd gotten the number from.
"Go! It's an emergency." she shoved me into the office adjacent to the kitchen.
My brother was at the other end of the line when I called.
"Go to the university hospital now. She's critical."
"Who???" I asked. The old woman had tripped herself a couple of times before...
"Big sis...I'll meet you up with mom later," he hung up.
10 minutes later I was on a bus en route to the National University Hospital. It was just a stop away from where I worked. And when I reached the ICU, the nurses told me my sis was still in the operation theatre. I felt my knees go weak. What happened? What's wrong with her?
I pleaded with the nurses to tell me something. Anything. They were no help at all, telling me to wait for the doctors to come out of the operating theatre. And so I waited. One of the nurses commented that I was a very calm person. What does she mean?? I'm always like that. Control is vital in situations like these.
Suddenly the doors opened, and I saw her. Oh God! What happened to her??? They shaved off her head and there was a tube coming out of her head. I walked up to a red haired guy wearing green. He's a surgeon. He acknowledged my presence and pulled me into a small office just behind the nurses' counter.
"...has a massive haemorrage inside her head. It's all we could do to drain the blood out. We don't want to risk a c-section 'cos her brain is swelling, if we do, chances are it might just pop out."
"...she was in a coma when she was brought in..."
"...I'm just an ER doc. My job's to stabilize her..."
I was trying very hard to focus on what he was saying but for some reason I keep zoning in and out. Dear God, for any autistic imperfections You've might bestowed upon me, let it not manifest now...especially now...
As I stood by her bed, I could almost hear my heart breaking into pieces. What happened? What in the world just happened?
I didn't realize my brother standing beside me. He motioned with his head to the visitor's lounge.
Later, I was told that both my brother & mom found my sister on her bedroom floor unconcious. She was foaming at the mouth and that they tried to revive her. And when they couldn't, they sent for the ambulance to take her to the hospital. What really hit me was when they told me they found her perhaps, an hour or so after I left the house for work.
You see, when I woke up to get a shower, I saw her in her bedroom on the bed, moving around; the kind you'd do to keep yourself awake on the bed. When I'm done showering and were about to get to my room I glanced into her bedroom again, she wasn't on the bed but I could hear breathing noises. I figured she'd gone sleeping on the floor. It was quite warm. I figured she doesn't have to go to work that day because if she did, she would've been outside the bathroom waiting for me to finish. Now I figured that if I had not been an idiot, I would've gone into her bedroom to check on her. If I had...then. Maybe things would've been different. Maybe I could've prevented this from happening.
Close relatives rushed by consoling my mom. Grandma was a wreck. I desperately text my buddy. I needed a friend. My baby sis was upset but she's a strong one. She knows she had to be strong for everyone. My nephew wasn't helping at all. He threw tantrums & cried. He clearly made his point that he doesn't want to be there at the hospital.
She loved him, my sister. She would've fussed over him and showered silly loving murmurs over my nephew if she could. Only she couldn't then, could she? She's in a coma. And my mind paused along with her. I paused. And I paused. My heart didn't. It continued to break. Every single second, it breaks.
Preparing mutton soup can be a painstakingly long process. Especially, when you're preparing it to feed close to 400 soldiers. A glance towards the clock tells me that it had been almost an hour. It's almost done but I'll let it simmer for about 15 more minutes.
That was when I decided to go for a smoke break. It was a first for me. Usually I'd go for a break after I'm done cooking. It was a strange morning. My inner senses were on overdrive but I just can't seem to figure out what's bothering me. I'd done halfway when I put out the cancer stick. Something in me became real urgent. Rational thoughts aligned with reason of immorality; leaving behind the soup undone. As I strode into the kitchen again, a dear colleague rushed up to me and put out her hand to me. In it was a piece of crumpled paper. I looked at it blankly. Before I could say anything she held my shoulder and said that I should call the number scribbled in the piece of paper that I held.
I examined the piece and could make out a cell phone number. Familiar. It was my sister's. I looked at my colleague. She was looking strangely at me. I was trying to figure out where she'd gotten the number from.
"Go! It's an emergency." she shoved me into the office adjacent to the kitchen.
My brother was at the other end of the line when I called.
"Go to the university hospital now. She's critical."
"Who???" I asked. The old woman had tripped herself a couple of times before...
"Big sis...I'll meet you up with mom later," he hung up.
10 minutes later I was on a bus en route to the National University Hospital. It was just a stop away from where I worked. And when I reached the ICU, the nurses told me my sis was still in the operation theatre. I felt my knees go weak. What happened? What's wrong with her?
I pleaded with the nurses to tell me something. Anything. They were no help at all, telling me to wait for the doctors to come out of the operating theatre. And so I waited. One of the nurses commented that I was a very calm person. What does she mean?? I'm always like that. Control is vital in situations like these.
Suddenly the doors opened, and I saw her. Oh God! What happened to her??? They shaved off her head and there was a tube coming out of her head. I walked up to a red haired guy wearing green. He's a surgeon. He acknowledged my presence and pulled me into a small office just behind the nurses' counter.
"...has a massive haemorrage inside her head. It's all we could do to drain the blood out. We don't want to risk a c-section 'cos her brain is swelling, if we do, chances are it might just pop out."
"...she was in a coma when she was brought in..."
"...I'm just an ER doc. My job's to stabilize her..."
I was trying very hard to focus on what he was saying but for some reason I keep zoning in and out. Dear God, for any autistic imperfections You've might bestowed upon me, let it not manifest now...especially now...
As I stood by her bed, I could almost hear my heart breaking into pieces. What happened? What in the world just happened?
I didn't realize my brother standing beside me. He motioned with his head to the visitor's lounge.
Later, I was told that both my brother & mom found my sister on her bedroom floor unconcious. She was foaming at the mouth and that they tried to revive her. And when they couldn't, they sent for the ambulance to take her to the hospital. What really hit me was when they told me they found her perhaps, an hour or so after I left the house for work.
You see, when I woke up to get a shower, I saw her in her bedroom on the bed, moving around; the kind you'd do to keep yourself awake on the bed. When I'm done showering and were about to get to my room I glanced into her bedroom again, she wasn't on the bed but I could hear breathing noises. I figured she'd gone sleeping on the floor. It was quite warm. I figured she doesn't have to go to work that day because if she did, she would've been outside the bathroom waiting for me to finish. Now I figured that if I had not been an idiot, I would've gone into her bedroom to check on her. If I had...then. Maybe things would've been different. Maybe I could've prevented this from happening.
Close relatives rushed by consoling my mom. Grandma was a wreck. I desperately text my buddy. I needed a friend. My baby sis was upset but she's a strong one. She knows she had to be strong for everyone. My nephew wasn't helping at all. He threw tantrums & cried. He clearly made his point that he doesn't want to be there at the hospital.
She loved him, my sister. She would've fussed over him and showered silly loving murmurs over my nephew if she could. Only she couldn't then, could she? She's in a coma. And my mind paused along with her. I paused. And I paused. My heart didn't. It continued to break. Every single second, it breaks.
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