Thursday November 9
Today is a very important day, for it is my last day as a thirty-four year old. Today I decided that I will stop letting life pass me by and take healthy risks that will benefit all aspects of my life. I take my scalding-hot shower, get dressed, get in my car and fight traffic going back to the hospital. On my way, I stop and have some breakfast before reuniting with my grandmother.
It is a beautiful day. The sky is bright blue, the clouds are like cotton balls floating in the sky. I look forward to hugging my grandma, giving her a kiss and spending time with her. I arrive at the intercom exactly at ten. I go through their screening process. The door opens; I walk to the receptionist and greet her with a “good morning.” “I’m here to see 2514,” I say cheerfully. I walk towards the room and upon entering my life pours out of my body. What I see is horrifying. There, lying in bed is my grandma with a plastic tube jammed down her throat as though it was siphoning the life out of her.
“What’s going on here? Why does she have a tube down her throat? What happened?” I demand answers.
“Sir, please calm down. Please tell us what is your relation is to the patient?” The male nurse asks.
“I’m her grandson. What happened? Why wasn’t I informed of her progress? If you would have called me I would have driven here immediately.” I state aggressively.
“Sir we did call you. We spoke to the daughter last night, Is… Isme…”
“Ismenia.” I finish his sentence.
“May I speak to the doctor, please?”
“Sure give me a moment. He is doing his rounds. As a matter a fact he will be coming in to her room in a moment.” he informs me very calmly.
“Hi, I’m the on-call doctor, How can I help you” he says.
“Hi I’m C, her grandson. I want to know what happened. Why does she have a tube down her throat?”
“Well,” he begins, “last night your grandmother began having trouble breathing. We had to place a tube down her throat to help her breathe. Before we take such an approach, we contact the family and get their authorization. Last night, we called the number listed on the emergency contact and spoke to the daughter, Is…men..ia to inform her of the situation. As a matter of fact I would like to get your authorization to place a catheter in her heart. We need to verify that her heart is strong and healthy.”
“Sure. Let me contact Ismenia and ask her to come to the hospital so we can discuss this further.” I turn looking at my grandma, “Excuse me, are you sure you spoke to her.” I ask.
“I spoke to her” the nurse behind me interrupts. “I spoke to her. I called her just before seven. I remember because we were changing shifts.”
I pause. Fury surges through my veins. I can’t believe it. J called me and told me she was doing fine. How can things go wrong in such a short time? Most importantly why wasn’t I notified of the situation? I am geared to find out.
“Thank you.” I told the nurse as stormed out of the I.C. Unit and rushed to get out of the hospital. She could tell I was livid and was ready to murder my aunt.
“Thank you for calling…” the voicemail. I hung up and redialed several times before someone picked up.
“Hello?” Someone asked.
“Hello, I want to talk to Ismenia.” I dictate.
“Ismenia is not here, she went to the hospital,” the voice said.
“Thank you,” I say sharply as I hang up the phone.

Part 8b later today