Prolonging the Inevitable

22 days are the most remarkable moments for me: 22 days of seeing my father’s health condition decline on a hospital bed; 22 days of witnessing how death knocks and leaves signs.

In loving memory of Dominador T. Collado
 (Feb.02, 2018)

On the first day he was hospitalized, I dreamt about him rushing out of a chapel while buttoning his favorite white shirt. From that day on, I realized I should accompany my mother at the hospital to watch over him. I couldn’t help but think that it may be the last time I would see him. However, we never lost hope and accepted whatever procedures the doctors would do as long as he recovers.

We think of him as a cat with 9 lives. He had surpassed a lot of surgical operations for more than 2 decades. So, when he got out of the ICU, we were quite confident that he still had enough of those 9 lives. In his new room, never had I imagined that there was only 1 life left.

Days had passed, but he still showed no signs of recovery; in fact, he got worse and worse every day. We wanted to take him home but his doctors refused due to his condition. I was also fazed from weighing two things: if he continued to stay at the hospital, would he recover? If we took him home, would our patience and strength be enough to care for him? Well, we chose to stay, thinking there was a greater chance of recovery because the nurses, doctors, and aids were just doors away unlike at home.

More days went by, and he started seeing the unseen. He heard voices and noises. To my surprise, on his third week, he only looked for two names: my two older sisters. He couldn’t recognize me and did not respond to my questions. I thought, it may be because his brain was affected from his mild stroke that he only remembered the old days. He became restless and disoriented from then on. My mother wanted to bring him home, but I still had questions in mind. My best friend was even pushing us to go as we may be prolonging the inevitable. I ignored it, because I still had hopes.

On Monday in his last week, he lost his consciousness and had been gasping. The doctors were disconcerted. I knew from the doctor’s expression that he was nearing the end. At that time, I realized what my friend said. So, I took the courage to whisper to my father’s ear and told him to follow the light if it’s what would make him happy.

On the next day, we were surprised that he was wide awake, strong and very talkative. My father kept on complaining how tired and thirsty he was because he chased magnetic lights, which soon disappeared. He also saw two windows on the ceiling, and one of them is heaven. He also heard leaking water; that’s why he continued instructing how to fix the pipes. It was funny that he managed to say all those things after what happened the night before. We had decided to leave by Wednesday, but due to some unavoidable circumstances, we stayed. He was again feeling weak and told my mother to be more patient. He wished a couple of times to be in his bedroom and mentioned that he will be leaving this world soon.

Life goes on.
 Believe that despite all the struggle, you will always bounce back. 

My mother and I thought, "have we really made the right decision to refuse more operations? Or was he just sent back by the Almighty to say his last words?" From those days, we already accepted this fact. We were ready of what’s going to happen. On Friday, February 02, his condition got worse again; he was unconscious, gasped for breath, and was too heavy. However, we were still firm with our decision to go home. The night on that day, as we were heading home, his vital signs were normal and he even showed movements. I guess he was excited to be on his bed soon. Few seconds after the nurse staff laid him on the bed, he decided to be with God. At some point, seeing his unwearied and rested face, I was happy that we granted his very last wish.