My grandma and grandpa (Dada) - Mom's parents - have been here visiting since September. My grandpa came here to get some ayurvedic alternative treatment for his pulmonary fibrosis since he wasn't getting any relief from traditional medications back in the states. He would get bouts of shortness of breath that would last minutes to hours and then be totally fine for hours and hours. He would get these spells for days and days and then be totally fine for weeks even months. He didn't have too much difficulty until Sunday, November 21st. That evening we took him to the doctor to get medications since he was getting worse. The doctor gave him the option of either getting admitted or taking meds on an outpatient basis. He knew that there was no cure and the most they could do in a hospital was give him oxygen, so he opted to stay home. Plus after having just seen his cousin pass away he had it in his head that if he went to the hospital they weren't ever going to let him come home. The meds weren't doing much good, but he kept saying that he had this same problem back in the states, and it felt of the same intensity, so he wanted to stay home.
Monday evening I came home in the evening, around 10:45pm...I went to ask him how he was feeling but saw that he was asleep, so I didn't bother him. As I started to walk away from him he started gasping for air...I asked if he was okay, if I could get him anything, and he said he wanted to go to the bathroom, but didn't need any help. So he walked himself to the bathroom and I stood around waiting for him to get done and settled again. In the mean time my aunt woke up and told me to look at my grandma...I'm thinking oh God, what did she do now? So I turned the light on and looked at her - and she had a golf-ball sized bump right above her eye - apparently she fell just hours before I got home. I was sitting here asking her about what happened, if it hurts, what she did for it, and in that much time my aunt yelled from the room for me to look at my grandpa...I'm thinking what now. I turn around and he had come out of the bathroom but was leaning up against the wall, clearly barely able to stand up. I went and supported him and realized he wasn't holding himself up at all. I held him up and told my aunt to call my uncle to bring a car over so we could take dada to the hospital. It took him awhile to come to after which I sat him down. Then he was totally fine - I had him drink a few sips of water..he was still somewhat struggling to breathe but he could now talk and was again fully conscious. He was on board with going to the hospital but he first wanted me to get him all of his medical records so he could decide what to take. I told him we'll sort through it at the hospital, but my dada is very very stubborn. So I played his game, went through his papers...he kept asking questions like how we'll get to the hospital, it's dark out so who'll drive, which doctor will we admit him under...he was talking in English, which meant he was only talking to me. I kept telling him trust me, I'll take care of you, let's just go...and all he said was yes I trust you, but I want to know everything. For anyone who knew him, this is very typical of him. Finally he was satisfied with everything we gathered up for the hospital. My two uncles were there to pick him up and help him walk to the car, but he refused their help...he wanted to walk himself. After 5 minutes of waiting they went to pick him up and all he did is yell for them to put him down and give him time. Finally he decided it was time, so he got up and walked to the patio. There was became very short of breath again and sat down. I told my uncles not to let him sit and get him straight into the car (a few feet and two stair steps away) because I knew once he sat he wasn't getting up for awhile...but again he's stubborn, so he sat. There we argued about his shoes - I told him he doesn't need any, but he insisted, so I got him his slippers, but he wanted his tennis shoes...as I was rolling my eyes and putting the slippers back and grabbing his tennis shoes he went unconscious. My grandpa was a very big guy, so we struggled a bit and threw him into the back seat of the car (he didn't really fit) and drove to the hospital which in India is a quicker way to get there than wait for an ambulance.
I was in the back seat with him so I was trying to get him to respond to me, talking to him, checking his pulse...he was hanging on, but barely. We got to the hospital in less than 7 minutes, they put him on a gurney and took him up. By the time we got up and the doctors got a look at him he was pulseless. They started CPR and giving medications...I gave him a brief history and told them he had a pulse up until he was in the car, so he had been pulseless for less than 3 or 4 minutes. After about 30 minutes they successfully resuscitated him. They told us now we just have to wait until morning to see if he wakes up.
Having worked in the hospital setting for many years, I knew deep down that things didn't look good. And I knew that if he did wake up he probably wouldn't be in the best shape and be able to live the active life he always enjoyed. We called home and my aunt, uncle, and mom started to make arrangements to fly in.
We had all sorts of specialists come and see him...and while most of them said wait and watch, I knew what they were tip-toeing around. I finally asked one of the doctors to spell it out - he said it would take a miracle to have him walk out of here, which was what I knew but was too afraid to say out loud. Wednesday afternoon he went into renal failure. They set things up to start him on dialysis to help him pull through until everyone came in the next day to see him one last time. They started dialysis around 2am Thursday morning, knowing that his blood pressure was low and there was the risk of the dialysis making it dip further. I was with him until a little after 4am at which time they asked me to step outside so they could give a sponge bath to the guy in the adjoining bed. They called me back within minutes and seeing all of the staff gathered around I knew. Dada passed away at 4:30am, Thursday November 25th.
All of his kids were present for his funeral which we held on Friday after which we cremated him. Dada was young - only 73, but he was walking, talking and joking until his last moments. He didn't suffer and he led a very fulfilling life. He was prepared for the worst, often talking about how he's next in line to go, and we can't count on him to be around much longer, so while we all expected him to be around to keep us on our toes for 10-20 more years, he knew it was his time. This was the first death in my family, but I knew since he was admitted that things didn't look good, which made it easier to accept. We have to be grateful that he didn't suffer and that he accomplished everything he wanted to in life. Dada was a character, so his absence is greatly noticed, but we have to pick up the pieces and move forward.
My aunt, mom, and I went to the cremation site (traditionally only men go) and also went to the river to perform the last rites (12th day after his death) and immerse his ashes per his wishes. He would have wanted the daughters to do everything his son was supposed to do, and would have been the first one asking questions and trying to understand all of the rituals that were going on. Thank you to everyone who has sent their thoughts and prayers to me and my family...all we need is for everyone to pray to give my family and my grandma the strength to move forward with Dada's memories in our hearts.
Cremation
