I jumped out of bed, it had started again. Daddy had this condition I couldn't understand. This time seems to be worse. We rushed him into the hospital as my uncle tried calling my dad's doctor. This time it was worse. We sat in the hospital till dawn. My mum had to take me back to school. It had been really sad these past months.
Later that day, my mum told me that my dad was going to be in the hospital for a really long time. She looked really sad and scared. She said since I was the first born, my siblings and herself would appreciate all the help they can get. I nodded in agreement, I was too young to fully understand.
Two years past and dad is still sick, bedridden and mother had refused to pull the plug. It seems like dad is in some kind of a coma. Mother had some hope but I had lost all. My siblings were actually beginning to forget we have a father. He was not present for any of our birthdays in the past year, I was beginning to forget the beautiful smile he always had, his voice and his warm heart, I miss him. Looking at his lifeless body, I remembered how we used to be very comfortable, comfortable is not the word. We used to be extremely rich but mother had spent all that money to try to keep him here. I missed the old life. I reached out to hug him but I felt as though I was hurting him. I looked at his monitor, I heard there was a specific way it was supposed to sound when he came back to life. I wished I could make that happen. As I turned around to sit, I felt a tug, I struggled to set myself free but I was too stuck.
My head felt heavy, my heart rate elevated, my palm was warm. As I started to get up, I could feel pain in my body. I opened my eyes to the world, my mum was sitting in my bed, holding my hands. Somehow, I managed to get tangled in the pipe-looking wires running from the machine to the side of the bed and everything else came tumbling.
"The doctor said you would be okay...but Daddy might not". I'm not sure what I did or how I did but I was not sad about the news. I was going to miss dad but I had already lost him two years ago. I told mummy that it was going to be okay. She started to cry very loudly. She said she had hopes for daddy, that we are probably never going to see him again. She explained that the doctor had concluded that he had been there too long. This was a Nigerian hospital, it was really hard to find a hospital here that was this patient. I'm not sure why but I whispered to her to let them do it. She flipped out! Why? Your father... you are so little you wouldn't understand. Im not little (I hated people calling me little... 16 is not little) ... "Im not too little to understand that daddy's situation has caused us nothing but pain. He deserves to live mother but he is not living. I'm sure he wishes he were dead. Let us help him end his miseries"... She looked at me and cursed under her breath and said "he does not deserve to hear what you just said... not from you!". She walked out in tears as I returned to sleep. The truth is that I had given up on him a long time ago.
Later that day, my mum told me that my dad was going to be in the hospital for a really long time. She looked really sad and scared. She said since I was the first born, my siblings and herself would appreciate all the help they can get. I nodded in agreement, I was too young to fully understand.
Two years past and dad is still sick, bedridden and mother had refused to pull the plug. It seems like dad is in some kind of a coma. Mother had some hope but I had lost all. My siblings were actually beginning to forget we have a father. He was not present for any of our birthdays in the past year, I was beginning to forget the beautiful smile he always had, his voice and his warm heart, I miss him. Looking at his lifeless body, I remembered how we used to be very comfortable, comfortable is not the word. We used to be extremely rich but mother had spent all that money to try to keep him here. I missed the old life. I reached out to hug him but I felt as though I was hurting him. I looked at his monitor, I heard there was a specific way it was supposed to sound when he came back to life. I wished I could make that happen. As I turned around to sit, I felt a tug, I struggled to set myself free but I was too stuck.
My head felt heavy, my heart rate elevated, my palm was warm. As I started to get up, I could feel pain in my body. I opened my eyes to the world, my mum was sitting in my bed, holding my hands. Somehow, I managed to get tangled in the pipe-looking wires running from the machine to the side of the bed and everything else came tumbling.
"The doctor said you would be okay...but Daddy might not". I'm not sure what I did or how I did but I was not sad about the news. I was going to miss dad but I had already lost him two years ago. I told mummy that it was going to be okay. She started to cry very loudly. She said she had hopes for daddy, that we are probably never going to see him again. She explained that the doctor had concluded that he had been there too long. This was a Nigerian hospital, it was really hard to find a hospital here that was this patient. I'm not sure why but I whispered to her to let them do it. She flipped out! Why? Your father... you are so little you wouldn't understand. Im not little (I hated people calling me little... 16 is not little) ... "Im not too little to understand that daddy's situation has caused us nothing but pain. He deserves to live mother but he is not living. I'm sure he wishes he were dead. Let us help him end his miseries"... She looked at me and cursed under her breath and said "he does not deserve to hear what you just said... not from you!". She walked out in tears as I returned to sleep. The truth is that I had given up on him a long time ago.
No comments:
Post a Comment