𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐔𝐬

Part 34 ~ Strong

Anika's Point Of View ~

Though you are sick in this moment, I am hoping for you to pull through . . please. 

Please, grandmother. 

My hand never leaves hers. Susan called me a few days ago. Remember grandmother mentioning that she had a headache? . . I recall her sneezing as well, a handkerchief for her runny nose too. 

I do. 

And since then, grandmother hasn't been getting better. But worse. It's a flu. And a bad one too. Grandmother's health has gone down . . each day that has passed since those symptoms, if you will, showed themselves. I am hoping that she pulls through and comes back to her old self but I know that grandmother can't fight sickness like she used to in her much younger days. But I'm hoping . . I hope. There's no harm in that, right? I have a rush of deja vu as we have come back to the hospital. In the same room grandmother was in when her hip was injured. That has healed, but now, there is something else wrong. As for the nursing home, I hope, but I must also know that we may never return. 

In my chair, I sit back as the nurse monitors grandmother. I see as she writes many things down on a sheet of paper that is clipped onto a clip board. A smile is given to me before she tells me that the doctor will be in shortly. I look at grandmother, her eyes closed. She doesn't have the strength to keep them open . . she told me. But her chest still moves as she breathes. 

Thank god. 

Within minutes, I see a doctor walk in. I stand up from my seat, feeling myself keep everything crossed. He looks over her and again, writes many things down on a sheet of paper. I walk out of the room, standing now in the hallway. It doesn't take long at all for the doctor to then join me. That isn't a good sign . . is it? I have my arms crossed over my chest as I look at the doctor. He looks down at his notes and I feel as though he has said it all even though nothing has yet been addressed. 

I hope, still. 

But I feel like it's far too obvious. 

"Anika. She is fighting, yes. But we must prepare for the worst . . " 

His hand on my shoulder. "If she doesn't make it . . " 

I look down, just nodding my head. Taking in what he just said, replaying it over and over in my mind. And each time, it does nothing but torture me. The doctors have to tell the truth, they must be straight with patient's families, I get that. But . . fuck. That just really hit me. I feel as if I'm about to fall over, my legs giving way so that my body will thud onto the floor. With an imagination such as mine, there is never a dull moment. 

But I find my footing. 

Mentally holding myself up.

I must be strong. I look back up at the doctor. His voice quiet, emotionless too. And as for his eyes, they appear with only a dash of sympathy. It's not personal, it never is. It's just business. It's just . . life. Being a doctor, he has been through this before. Having had this very conversation with countless other people. He is used to it. But me, I'm not. I don't know what to say. What do you say? When you're told something like this. 

"I'm sorry, Anika. Call me if you need me . . " 

"Thanks doctor . . " 

I'm not angry at him. I'm angry- ugh, I'm just angry with what is happening. I don't want this to happen. I thought she had more time. No, no, Anika. She isn't gone. Stop thinking like that. I hope. I still have hope. And it's something I must hold onto. It's all I have. I need to calm down. I take a deep breath . . not just one, but many. I feel my heart slow down a great deal. The seat that sits outside of grandmothers hospital room welcomes me back as its unoccupied, still. I sit down. Actually feeling a little bit relaxed. The large window to my left is here too. There are no stars, no darkness from the night sky. This time, it's a day where the sun shines. I can hear in the distance, the honk of car horns, the hustle of many as they carry out their daily routines. I know the feeling. Grabbing a coffee in the early morning to somewhat make the day seem like it will be a breeze. But today, I am not doing that. Instead, I'm here. Back in the hospital because grandmother is so sick with something that could take her away. Compared to out there, everything in here is slow moving . . and sad. So fucking sad.