As they guided me down the long corridor, I felt like I weighed a million pounds and my legs somehow had forgotten how to propel me forward. If Tammy or Ricky had let go, I probably would have fallen over. The hospital smelled like alcohol and death. While I had smelled that putrid smell before, it was taunting me now, beckoning me to swallow the bitter pill reality had dispensed. Soon, my Gran would have that same smell, I thought, as we lumbered down the hall to her room, the three of us marching in a thinly veiled parade of death.
When we walked into her hospital room, I saw someone with my Gran’s face, yet she had a frail birdlike body. It was a shock because she hadn’t looked like that just yesterday. The old woman lying on the precipice of death was not my fire-spirited Gran who caused upheaval wherever she went. The woman struggling to breathe with tubes and wires connecting her pale, emaciated body to one machine or another was not the woman who narrated our Friday night horror fests.
How had I not seen the woman lying in that bed dying?
How had I not known she was in this condition?
I guessed I saw only what I wanted to see. I saw Gran the way I had always remembered her. A warrior, a comedian, and the most loving woman on Earth.
The three of us stood there, not knowing what to do. It was like we were standing at her funeral, numbed by shock and rendered speechless.
“I’m going to get another chair,” Ricky said. “You ladies have a seat and wait until Gran wakes up.”
He made quite a racket bringing the chair back in, clanking and banging as he tried to negotiate it and his portly frame through the door. His labored breathing sounded like Darth Vader was redecorating the hospital, but god bless him, his chair battle woke Gran. The minute those beautiful eyes beheld us, her face became bold and spirited again. While she still looked fragile, at least her face was the one I recognized. Her smile was gracious and loving, and it immediately picked up my mood. I knelt by her side so that our faces were level.
“We havin’ a party?” she asked feebly.
“Well, you thought it might be fun to have a sleepover in the hospital, so now it’s a party,” I playfully scolded.
“Hell, no I didn’t,” she grumbled. “Why would I want to stay here? The food and the cable TV suck. I just watch the Latin channel, see if I can pick up some Spanish while they have me in lockdown. I’ve been kidnapped.”
“How you feeling?” Tammy asked.
“Like someone took a baseball bat to my lungs, kiddo,” she answered with a lovely smile.
I was trying not to cry. “Have you been feeling that way for a while?”
“Well, sweets, I’m old, so I just figured my insides and all my various innards were getting a little gunked up. But now that you’ve all come to rescue me from this hellhole, I promise to eat more prunes. I hope you brought the getaway car, Ricky. I wanna take that BMW roadster of yours to town and shake her legs, put her top down.” At least she still sounded feisty.
“I promise that I’ll fire up the roadster and tempt a speeding ticket for your enjoyment,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Today, you gotta brave the liquid diet and the Latino channels. I’ll help you with the Spanish if you want. I can teach you the Puerto Rican dialect, it’s much sexier.”
Gran winked. “Si, senior.”
I cradled her head as I ran my fingers through her thinning hair.
“Sweetie, bring me my cane. I’m ready to get out of here,” her eyes implored me, “you know I go to shit in a hospital. Hospitals freak me out. Saw too many people die in them. They aren’t places for healing, they’re places for torture.”
I thought she might’ve known what was happening. Maybe when you neared the end of your life, you always knew. I would have busted her out of here, but I needed to know what we were up against. I didn’t want to do something stupid that would end her life prematurely.
“Dr. Pushkin said you have to stay here tonight, that’s all.” I was being calm, as I could see that she was becoming agitated, the blips on her machines starting to spike.
“Forget Dr. Pushkin, I’m outta here,” she exclaimed as she sat up and started to get out of bed, sending off a host of screaming alarms. Shit!
“Come on, Gran, get back in bed. You’re being a crazy girl.” I looked at her and our eyes connected.
I was speaking to her soul.
“I’m the batshit, totally messed up variety of crazy right now, but I don’t care. This girl’s gotta motor,” she said, trying to tug herself free of the tubes.
I panicked. My eyes were begging for her to behave. “You just need to spend one night here, that’s all, and we’ll take you home in the morning.”
My heart shattered as she continued to struggle to escape.
“Sweetheart, it smells bad, and the people are morbid. I can’t be in this place anymore. Ricky, get your roadster!”
The alarms were still blaring as a doctor and nurse rushed into the room. The doctor approached Gran.
“Ms. Darning, you have to get back into the bed,” he said in a stern, condescending tone.
“I know my rights. I’m a free woman, I can get the frick outta here if I want.” She was being more obstinate than I’d ever seen her act before.
I realized that she had to be scared. I would be. Her whole world was crashing in around her. I understood why she would want to go home and escape it. I only had thought about how much losing her would hurt me. I never considered how it would feel for her to face her own death. I leaned in and whispered in her ear as the nurse reset her monitors, and the doctor rattled off the reasons why she was being kept at the hospital.
“If you really want to go home now, I’ll go apeshit on this place and get you out.” I smiled and reassured her.
“I would love that.” She seemed dazed and out of focus. “But I’m not feeling up to it just yet. Give me a min...”
She slunk down on the pillow and quietly lost consciousness. It had all happened so fast. I was confused and scared. Her behavior was way out of focus, even for her.
“Is she alright?” I asked.
“She’s very sick,” he said as the nurse continued to check and adjust the drips and cables that hung all about my grandma. “We’ll give her some medication to keep her asleep for the rest of the night. She needs to rest. You can come back in the morning.”
“Are you kicking us out?” Tammy asked, incensed.
“I’m asking you to leave so that Ms. Darning can get some rest. You’re welcome to come back tomorrow during visiting hours.”
Tammy was ready to have at him, but I touched her arm.
“Let’s just let Gran sleep and we’ll bring the roadster back tomorrow.” I gave Ricky a nod.
They understood the code. We would be busting Gran out tomorrow, come hell or high water.