Grandma Is in the Hospital Again
It was the third twenty-four hours of Ramadan, and most one month into the coronavirus pandemic. The ear-piercing noise of ambulance sirens resonated constantly throughout my New York City neighborhood of Jamaica, Queens.
Merely some other audio troubled me even more. My 76-year-sometime grandma was gasping for air. She sat slouched on her bed, leaning against the wall. The heaviness of her breath tugged her down. "What happened?" I asked.
"I'm fine. I just took a shower," she said.
"No you're not. I'm telling mom. Why didn't you mind to her?"
My grandma has chronic obstructive pulmonary disease or COPD, a lung illness. Boiling air, like from a hot shower, can cause her symptoms to worsen. She had already been hospitalized 4 times in the past half dozen months.
Before the pandemic, my parents took her to the hospital without hesitation. But in April 2020, as the city was on lockdown, my parents worried that she could develop pneumonia if she wasn't hospitalized. And if they took her to the hospital now, we idea she might contract COVID.
"I couldn't stand not showering for three weeks," she said.
"Well, it's better than going to the infirmary," I replied.
Should Nosotros Accept Her to the Hospital?
Subsequently that dark, my grandma developed a fever and couldn't slumber.
"Should we take her to the infirmary?" my mom said.
"Should nosotros?" my dad questioned. "What if she gets the coronavirus there?"
I saw on the news that the cases were exponentially growing, and the hospitals were so full they had added tents to arrange the surge in patients. Many hospitals lacked beds, machines, and medical supplies like personal protective equipment. Notwithstanding, my grandma's condition seemed to be worsening past the minute, and I didn't know if she would recover without existence treated in a hospital.
"You lot tin't keep her home similar this," I said.
My dad chosen the doctor, who prescribed medicine to help care for her. He went to the pharmacy and bought the medicine and a nebulizer—which helps patients by making medication inhalable.
My grandma wasn't getting any better, though. The rumbling sound of mucus in her airway echoed throughout the apartment. Her restlessness increased. I had never seen her similar this considering my parents generally took her to the hospital correct away when she got this bad and there she received the intendance she needed.
My mom and I sat upwards with her all night. I didn't want to lose her. She's the only grandparent I have. She e'er helped effectually the house, even if it was exhausting for her, and tried to assist relatives far off in People's republic of bangladesh. She gave away a lot of her money, even when she barely had any.
The adjacent day, my parents called her dr. again, and he recommended they take my grandma to an urgent care facility. So, my parents and my older blood brother drove her at that place.
I didn't know if I would see her again, and that frightened me.
Prayers
I spent the day past the phone with my sister, answering calls from concerned relatives. They sent us their thoughts and prayers. Their calls were comforting and made me hopeful.
Merely when I wasn't on the phone, I became preoccupied with my thoughts and neglected my daily chores of sweeping the floor, making the beds, and dusting the article of furniture. I couldn't eat; my belly rumbled from emptiness. The chrome-plated clock in the living room ticked louder and louder, almost driving me mad every bit I waited for updates nearly my grandma.
I decided to kneel for a set of prayers in the living room with my sister. When my family finally came habitation, I continued to pray. My mom was sobbing with her face buried in my blood brother's arms. When she raised her caput I saw her cerise, watery eyes and faint streams of tears on her cheeks. Right away, my sister bankrupt her prayer and embraced my mom.
"What happened?" I heard my sister ask. My mom swayed her caput and her rima oris trembled. My begetter was outside parking the car.
Should I break my prayer? I thought.
The pandemic deprived us of Ramadan congregation activities like praying in a mosque and volunteering. Still, praying at this time of day was important to me. I rushed through my daily prayer.
I raised my hands and positioned them together, so that my hands created a valley. I lowered my gaze on to my easily and begged: "Oh Allah, help my grandmother. Keep her safety. Keep all of us healthy during this time. Please cure our sicknesses. Delight forgive u.s.a. for our sins. Assistance my grandmother. Assist my grandma. Help my nana."
So, I folded the soft, bright red praying mat and put it away in my grandma's room, where my family unit stored the prayer mats. There, I found my mom sitting on grandma's bed weeping.
A Void Inside of Me
My mom told me she and grandma had waited within the car until they called my grandma's number. Equally soon every bit the nurse examined her and found dangerously low claret oxygen levels, she called 911.
My mom begged them non to take my grandma. She said she would buy everything necessary to accept care of my grandma at home, regardless of the cost. Simply they insisted she needed hospitalization.
For the balance of the day, whenever I entered my grandma's room, I felt a void inside of me. I no longer saw her sitting at that place, cracking betel nuts and quarreling with my sister. Information technology reminded me of when I was 10 years quondam, and my grandma left for Dubai. I retrieve pressing my face into my pillow and crying myself to slumber for a whole week because I missed her and so much.
Now, she was over again absent-minded from my life. With her in the hospital, I cried myself to sleep again considering I didn't know if she would exit me forever this time.
My Prayers Are Answered
But and so my prayers were answered. My grandma didn't accept COVID. She had a COPD exacerbation. They gave her steroids and supplemental oxygen.
My grandma didn't have a phone with her at the infirmary, and no one was allowed to visit her there. Thankfully, the nurse in accuse was nice and let my grandma use her phone. When I talked to her, she told me how busy the infirmary was and how eager she was to leave.
My grandma got better and was discharged from the hospital a calendar week later.
A few months before, I would never have expected a pandemic to force united states of america into quarantine. I would never have thought that going to a hospital could exist dangerous.
Until the majority of Americans are vaccinated, I've decided I demand to spend more than time with my family; I practice not know what the time to come holds for u.s.. My grandma still suffers from COPD, but there haven't been any more close calls because she has been more careful to avoid anything that tin cause exacerbations.
Ramadan is about appreciating what we have and giving dorsum to the community. This pandemic certainly has made me capeesh my family and my health. In a fashion, we can all give back to the community by quarantining, possibly saving countless lives. The pandemic has not ended, so nosotros should proceed to follow safety protocols like wearing masks and social distancing. Nosotros must all do our part.
Discussion Questions
- How do yous think Shadman feels as his grandmother's condition worsens?
- How does prayer help Shadman?
- What's something that helps you cope with a tough time?
- Shadman mentions that the pandemic has made him appreciate his family and his wellness. What has the pandemic made y'all appreciate?
With her in the hospital, I cried myself to slumber again considering I didn't know if she would leave me forever this time.
Source: https://youthcomm.org/story/our-close-call-with-covid/
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