Personal Narrative

'Err' the car screeched as it pulled up to the hospital and started to go up the huge ramp into the Beaumont Hospital parking structure in Royal Oak. My mom made me wear a dress. I hate dresses more than anything in the world but today I was okay with it and I did not make a fuss like I usually did because it was for my Babcia BOB-sha(Grandma).
We rushed into the hospital that had colorful tile and grayish walls. We walked into the elevator and pressed the cream button that had the number six on it, as I pressed it, it lit up and made me sad. It made me think about my Babcia and how we could no longer go to her house for Christmas Eve because of the eight years that my Babcia had survived through many different kinds of cancer. 
As we got closer to her floor I felt like crying, but I did not want to embarrass myself in front of the Couple that had a baby in their arms and was wrapped in a pink blanket. 

Finally we reached the sixth floor and the rusted metal doors of the elevator slowly opened, me, my Mom, Lauren and Hannah rushed out, I could tell they all felt the same way I did.

We swiftly walked down the long hallway, I could see my Uncle Chris standing at a wooden door with a long metal handle. He was smiling at least it looked like he was trying to, he had one of those smiles that adults use when they have bad news. I was worried that he had the worst news of all, which was that she had died.

When we got to the heavy looking door that had her name on it my Mom asked "how is she?" 
"She’s doing fine she just has to drink lots of fluids" My Uncle Chris answered. I was relived, although my Uncle did not look too sure about what he said.

 I had a flash back to the time at home just that day when my Mom had told us about her dehydration and more Cancer. I was so exited about going to Ceder Point the next day, and I felt a little selfish for being the slightest bit mad at my Dad for not going on the trip for the second day but I knew it was for Babcia so I was okay with it.

We walked inside and there laying on the almost all white hospital bed was my Babcia it hurt me to look at her because  a small part of me felt like it was my fault she was in this condition even though the rest of me knew it was not. She did not look like herself at all, most of her hair had fallen out and a lot of clear tubes where suctioned on to her chest and she had a fluid injector beside her going onto her heart and arm. There was also a small black screen that had green zigzag lines on it moving up and down to monitor her heart beat beside her.

There was a long silence until my Dad said "don't worry she won't bite, she is still the same Babshie" that is what my dad called her. Babshie. I liked it, it sounded even more polish than Babcia.        Hannah started to walk over to the bedside and then stopped and looked back at us motioning to follow her, so we did. It made me so sad to look at her laying on the bed helplessly. As I hugged her I felt better, I felt a sudden warmth inside of me like my shattered heart was being put back together and I kind of felt like celebrating even though I knew that it was no time for that. 

Two days later she died, the day I came back from my trip. I was so sad but I realized, even though she did die, she would not be going through the pain and cancer anymore and I knew that it was best for her to die. Or she would just sit there and suffer through what she didn't deserve.