'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 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 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. 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 to 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 even though the rest of me knew it was not. There she
was 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 and she had a fluid injector
beside her going onto her chest. There was also a small black screen that had
green zigzag lines on it moving up and down to monitor her heart beat.
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 heart was being put back together and I kind of felt like celebrating
even though I knew that it was no time for that.
As I left the stuffy room that smelled like medicine and Hand Sanitizer I got more
worried than I ever had before but I knew, even if she did die, she would not
be going through pain 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.
