I sensed something was wrong when I landed at Newark Airport and read the text message from my 24-year old brother. “I’m here to pick you up. Mom and dad are still at the hospital with grandma for her check-up. ” As I got into the car, my brother greeted me with a warm hug, but his energy was heavy, “Syd, we have to go to the hospital. Grandma’s cancer came back but it spread to her intestines.” My heart skipped a beat as I tried to grasp the news. Stage IV, metastatic ovarian cancer. As I consciously processed another year of intensive chemotherapy, radiation and weekly visits to the hospital, death never crossed my mind.
I navigated through the crisp, white corridors of the hospital before finally arriving at room 402-B. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, and announced “I’m home !”. As I was immersed with excitement and hugs from my family, I immediately focused on my grandma. The stark contrast between her beautiful blue eyes, inflamed with life, against the hard-featured drainage tubes coming out of her nose and IV’s pouring out of her arms, brought me back to the somber reality of the situation. …show more content…
I was now her caretaker, with the task of making her the most comfortable in the most uncomfortable of times. I was in charge of administering her proper doses of medicine in a timely manner. I had to be organized and diligent in order to be certain she was receiving exactly what the doctors instructed. My grandma absolutely hated the taste of her medicine and refused to take it unless I was present. I would have the syringe in my right hand and a huge glass of flat ginger ale , her favorite drink, in my left as I quickly administered the medicine to her. Although I wished I could give her a corned beef and pastrami sandwich every time she had to take that medicine, she was unable to eat food because of the blockage in her small intestine
I navigated through the crisp, white corridors of the hospital before finally arriving at room 402-B. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, and announced “I’m home !”. As I was immersed with excitement and hugs from my family, I immediately focused on my grandma. The stark contrast between her beautiful blue eyes, inflamed with life, against the hard-featured drainage tubes coming out of her nose and IV’s pouring out of her arms, brought me back to the somber reality of the situation. …show more content…
I was now her caretaker, with the task of making her the most comfortable in the most uncomfortable of times. I was in charge of administering her proper doses of medicine in a timely manner. I had to be organized and diligent in order to be certain she was receiving exactly what the doctors instructed. My grandma absolutely hated the taste of her medicine and refused to take it unless I was present. I would have the syringe in my right hand and a huge glass of flat ginger ale , her favorite drink, in my left as I quickly administered the medicine to her. Although I wished I could give her a corned beef and pastrami sandwich every time she had to take that medicine, she was unable to eat food because of the blockage in her small intestine