It was the winter of December 2011, the roads were too bad as the snow has just started from the day before. It was chilly and as much as I wanted to sleep more, I had to get up as it was my first day to work as a Graduate Nurse. I had been hired at Newport Harbour Care Center which is a long term care facility for the aged. It was during my junior year in nursing, and I have been working there as a nursing aid. When finished my degree, they hired me to work there as a nurse as well. It was 05:00am, I got out of bed half asleep, went down the stairs to the kitchen and felt the cold wooden floor. Yawning, I opened the coffee jar to make my morning coffee, got the bread in the toaster and went to the fridge to get eggs to cook. As I prepare to crack the egg, a fleeting memory of someone dear to me crossed my mind…
Everyone
knew him as "Tata Odiong", he was my grandmother's brother and my great
uncle. He was a tall, fair skinned, white-haired, with a medium built body, who
wore black rimmed thick bifocals and uses a wooden cane to aid him when
walking. He never really married but he was a devoted Protestant who never
missed any Sunday mass and any opportunity to serve the church. He was a jolly
old man whom everyone loved to have a chat with in a long day. He did not
really liked children around our neighbourhood as they tend to steal his
precious sugar apple and grapefruit that he personally planted and took care
of. I remember one day when he caught one of the naughty skinny boys in the
neighbourhood stealing his fruits, he was mad furious and ran after him with a
cane. The boy got away but my great uncle was quite vigilant of the trees after
that.
During
weekdays at exactly 05:00 am, my parents –who were both teachers –would wake me
up as they had to let me stay with my great uncle so that they could go to
work. I remember walking to his place, eyes closed as he tucked me to bed so I
can sleep more. When I wake up, I would smell the freshly cooked fried rice
that he cooked prior that is enough to wake my senses up to get up to eat. My
favourite dish that he would always prepare me is this soft-boiled egg that I
would mix with rice and some seasoning. I remember practically having them
every day for breakfast and won't eat anything unless it was that soft-boiled
egg. We used to bond and have long conversations while eating and then after
that breakfast, he would take me to the town and eat the best rice cakes we can
buy in town.
As much as he took good care of me, I
don't think I can say the same when it comes to taking care of himself. He had
diabetes but refused to take medications and cut back at eating sweet foods,
especially those rice cakes we liked so much. He always said that he would
rather live his life doing the things that he loves, than take pills for life.
Because of the diabetes, his feet developed some peripheral neuropathy that
caused loss of feeling to his feet and toes; there was this incident when a rat
bit his great toe while sleeping and he did not even feel it, he just
discovered it in the morning when he saw dried blood on his toe and his bed
sheets.
As
I grew older, started going to school and have new friends, and we started to
drift apart compared to our morning bonds before. I went out more with children
my own age to play outside, play video games and watch cartoons with them. He
would, from time to time, ask me if I could sit down with him and talk, or go
to town with him but my reaction would always be "No" or "Maybe
some other time". Those responses became more and more frequent and later
on he just stopped trying at all. His age has taken its toll on him as he
developed some arthritis that made walking very painful. He lost some of his
friends along the way as well and somehow affected him negatively as his normal
outgoing personality has changed into being secluded. His routine in a day
consisted mostly of sleeping and watching television all the time.
I was 8 years old when he had a bad infection
and was bed ridden. We did not really have much money back then and as much as
we wanted him to go to the hospital, we could not have afforded it. We made a
wooden bed in our living room, so we can see him and attend to his needs all
the time. A community doctor would come every now and then but it seemed that
he did not really respond well to any treatments. Days, weeks and months passed
and his health deteriorated further. He became incontinent of his bowels and
urine; whenever I looked at him, I saw a person that was far from the man I
have known to be full of life and full of stories. He lost some weight, his
used to be chubby cheeks were now prominent cheek bones, his eyes were sunken,
very thin, weak, and could not even speak a word to us anymore. It was like
every move he made needed too much energy and for that he was always tired. My
mother took care of him solely and would change his attends and feed him. She
stopped working for a bit to accommodate his care and well-being. I was the one
at home most of the time and would help my mother out but I never did like it
as I would miss going out with my friends to play. I remember resenting going back home as I
would smell a "sick person's smell" again that was more like a
combination smell of medicine, stool, urine and isopropyl alcohol. I mostly
would prefer staying at our neighbour's place until it was dark and just go
home when it is time for dinner or to sleep.
There
was one night that I would not ever forget. It was a Saturday evening in
December when my mother asked me to look after him for, as she would like to
rest her eyes for a bit. I closed the windows of our living room as the cold
December wind was coming in and I do not want him to catch the draft. As I put
the blanket on top of his shoulders, I saw his very stiff and bony figure lying
on the bed that sent a pang of sadness in me. I can smell the combination of
isopropyl alcohol that my mom used to clean him up with and the strong scent of
eucalyptus ointment that was rubbed on his chest and back for comfort. He was
snoring and for a split second, I thought he looks so peaceful and free of
pain. I went to the sofa and closed my eyes when his constant moaning awoken
me. "Mother, mother", he said "take me now". He constantly
mumbled that on and on that night and was trying to reach something in the air
as if he was seeing a hand and was trying to grab it. I tried to speak to him
and ask what he needs but he would not even look at me. I ignored it and after
an hour he finally gotten back to sleep. The smell of stool and some movements
startled me early in the morning as mother just started cleaning him up. I went
straight to my aunt to have my breakfast and due to my lack of sleep and
irritability, I told my aunt: "I
wish that he is dead, so we can all be at peace". I regretted the
moment I said that because on that same morning, he passed away quietly in his
sleep.
"Ding!",
the sound of the toaster snapped me back to the present again and as I mixed
the eggs from the pan, I smiled and said, "This is for you Tata Odiong, I may not be strong and matured enough to
take care of you before, but I will come to work and take care of my patients
as if they were you. I love you and I am sorry for all the times I turned your
down and for what I have said before when God took you away from us".
