Short Story : ' Up Girl '

I remember waking up that day and that feeling in my stomach, knowing what was about to happen. Growing up I knew about my father's sickness. My family, I recall, was always supportive. No one ever thinks about how one day, everyone you’re around for years, can just vanish. I cherished my friends as I was growing up. I lived there for a majority of my life, up until fourth grade. I remember sitting at a neighbor's house and having the mother come into the room and inform me that I need to be home swiftly. As I ran home, my head was crowded with thoughts to the point where I could not even think about why I was supposed to be home quickly. That day marked the transition of what would be the biggest change in my life. As by dad became sicker,

Tears poured down my face like I was in a rain forest, hugged my mom tightly as if she was a cuddly stuffed animal and I prayed, prayed like I’ve never prayed before. Not really knowing what was going on or what was going to happen. My sister arrived home, followed by my dad shortly after. While we waited to hear back from the hospital, we sat on the couch in the living room bawling our eyes out probably. Don’t worry, I will tell you about what is going on.

When he was able to talk he said to me “I’m sorry that you have to see me this way, I’m supposed to be the big strong brother.” That broke my heart and I just didn’t want to lose my brother, we’re just so close. Over the last week of summer I sat in his hospital room with him from 7 in the morning until 6 in the afternoon. I didn’t want to be anywhere but with him.

They (my family and doctors), for the first night, weren’t sure if I would make it or not. I was touch and go, because my oxygen level couldn’t be stabilized. I would be on oxygen and my level would be normal, but as soon as they took me off, my level would fall again. However, they had to stabilize me before they could do any kind of surgery. During this time, I think my dad as well as everyone involved got a taste of what it means that any moment, any day could be anyone’s final moment. My dad stayed every night with me. The first night, my heart quit beating twice. The first time, my dad said, “She’s a fighter, she can get through this.”. Then it happened again and my dad fell on his knees saying, “God, please don’t take her now!”. I ended up practically living in SICU for 3½ weeks, just trying to become stable enough, so I could make it somewhere else. Both my mom and dad had to become durable power of attorneys, so they could decide what my treatments would

September 27th 2009. I was on my dad’s weekend and my mom was in the hospital for a weeks. I would visit her every day and sometimes bring her flowers. But on september 27th I woke up and walked into my living room and my dad was sitting on the couch looking sad. I asked what was wrong and then a knock was heard on the door it was my step dad and half brother. My step dad had puffy eyes he was crying. He told me to sit down and my brother came out and sat next to me. My dad looked at us and he spoke up your mother had just passed this morning. I was shocked I was hurt I was scared.I didn’t know if i should cry or run away. I’ve learned that losing someone you love is tough.

When I got my family was around our wooden table. My dad on his soft voice said “ I don’t think your grandpa will go through one more night, you need to call him” he cried. I felt like I couldn’t do it, felt so week and a huge hole in my stomach, something I’ve never felt before, I grabbed the phone and when I was about to call, the phone ringed, I passed the phone to my dad, It was my aunt sobbing and barely able to speak, then she said “ he passed away, I’m sorry honey” I couldn’t believe it I didn’t even had the chance to say

To this date, it was the worst phone call of my life. I was informed my father and stepmother were in a motorcycle accident in Florida where they retired for the winter. My stepmother was expected to have a painful, long recovery, as she suffered from multiple fractures to her face, a dislocated jaw, and pelvis that was broken in 3 places, plus many small cuts and bruises. My father, however, had not awakened after the accident and we should get to the hospital in Florida as soon as possible. My brother, his wife, and I booked flights and we were on our way they next day. It was not how I expected to spend Easter. The next four days were a blur. We met with doctors and nurses and didn’t feel like we had any answers to the real condition of our father. We knew of his injuries but not what they meant to his future. He had bruising between the hemispheres of his brain, on the outside of the brain, bruising on his brainstem, and multiple open fractures on the left side of his body. I couldn’t get any of his doctors to tell me their opinion on his prognosis. They would only say, “we need another 48 hours”. The only thing I could think was, “if you knew my dad, he would hate this. You life flighted him, now he’s hook to machinery to breath, and all he would have wanted was to have the ambulance run him over and put him out of his misery”. We knew my father’s wishes and they didn’t look anything like

I watched as my family said goodbye as a I lay in my hospital bed, breathing raspily. I told them that I loved them. I tried to reach out for my mother’s hand, but was stopped by the short slack of all the tubes and wires connected to me. She comes closer so she can hold my hand, so she can comfort me in my last moments.

My question was, “Okay, do we tell her or just let everything seem as if it all going to be alright?” We just wanted Mom to be happy and not in any pain. So, we decided not to tell her that she was dying, just to take it one day at a time. After, that I took a month off from work to spend time

Finally, the nurse came and allowed us entrance to one of our worst nightmares. There the whole family stood with the understanding that they were taking the ventilator off and this could be the last time we would ever see this amazing woman. Each grandchild took their time getting one last hug and saying goodbye. I stood waiting my turn thinking how could I ever possibly whisper into words the gratitude and admiration I had for this wonderful woman. The whole room was on edge trying to be strong for each other. Eventually it was my Aunt Julia’s turn. As she stood there holding my grandmother’s hand crying saying, “Momma, it’s your little girl, please wake up, I know you can do it, you’re strong enough”. I thought my heart would explode. Then, as my dad, the strongest man I know, went over to pull her away from the bedside he began to sob as well. This was almost unbearable to witness without making a scene. I gazed out the window with a desire to be anywhere but in that horribly bleak room facing this unimaginable tragedy with my family that was full of life and laughter. When my Aunt Julia finally was composed once again and acknowledged once again that this was God’s will she said fo the last time, “It’s okay, I understand you are tired. I love you”. The whole room seemed to begin to spin and true mourning was awaken in my soul for this amazingly wonderful woman that held such a

The doctors could not save him. My heart ached, and I wanted to run away instead of facing the cruel reality that my dad was not going to walk out of this hospital today or ever again. I cried hopeless tears as my mom slowly carried me to the far corner of the hospital where my dad had been placed by doctors hours before. When we reached the doorway to his room, I froze with hatred and anger. I could not comprehend why the doctors had no power or ability to fix the situation. I felt helpless and did not want to go inside the room where my dad was being held captive by countless wires and machines. However, I crawled onto the foot of the bed and held my dad’s legs as he continued taking shallow breaths. Ultimately, that is where I remained until a nurse came in several hours later to confirm he had passed

“Anthony!” My mother beckoned for me to come downstairs “what?” i replied “i have some bad news.” she said back. Intrigued by this i quickly stood up and rushed to the first floor of our house. When i got to the bottom of the stairs i looked at her and asked “what was wrong? Was someone hurt?” my mind raced with questions and i tried to start rifling them off when i was interrupted by her saying “Your father is in the ICU.” my heart sank at those words, as if i was hit by a car. I had known something was wrong with my father for a long time now. Even with how young i was at the time i still had a firm grip on death and how closely it is associated with the ICU. my thoughts were then interrupted by her continuing to speak “he went to go

Last May, my father had been feeling sick for a couple of weeks. Every day and night, it was something different for him. Even though I wasn’t going through what he was going through, I still felt the pain and anxiety that he had constantly. I would spend the days that I

Seven days after the news of my grandfathers hospitalization was delivered to me, I found myself in a similar situation. I had another important game that night and began my journey towards the front door when my mother intercepted me. She spoke to me in a hushed tone, notifying me that my grandfather had passed

I was crying so hard I could barely see, and my heart was pounding out of my chest. I got to the hospital and his family was already there waiting for a doctor to come out. We all sat together and cried and prayed that he would by okay. All the doctor said was that there was severe head trauma. Right then I thought he was brain dead. They took CAT scans and found out that there was not really severe head trauma but a severe concussion. I went into the cold, weird medicine smell room to see him and I just froze. There were machines everywhere, so many things connected to him, a tube down this throat, and a neck stabilizer. There was blood all over his face, and his blond hair was brown from being covered in dirt. They said he would have died if he had not been wearing a helmet. He was in the ICU in a medically induced coma for six days. He had a severe concussion, pneumonia from vomiting, then inhaling it into his lungs, a collapsed right lung full of fluid, and T-4 through T-7 bones in his back broken. He had tubes down his throat to help him breathe, a tube down to his stomach for food, IV’s everywhere, a neck brace, and he was strapped down to the bed because when they would wake him up, he would try to pull all the tubes out. His room smelt like old bleach and smelly hospital food. I missed a week of school and was falling behind. I did not want to leave the hospital because I did not want anything to happen