Essay About Family: Waiting for Papaw :: Personal Narrative Family Grandfathers Essays

Waiting for PapawI am under the belief that the concept of magazine as we know it, does not exist in hospitals. Upon entering, one loses all sense of what time it is, what day of the week it is, and how huge theyve been there. Hospitals are places of healing, of caring, of great medical advancements and live saving procedures. They are a place of second regains, of last chances, and sometimes very little chance at all. They are also a place for dying. I intimate all of this and then some during the eighteen days in celestial latitude that I spent at my grandfathers bedside in set apart Spirit Hospital. My grandfather went into the hospital with the symptoms of a stroke on Saturday, declination 13, 2003. He spent the first 4 days of his stay in a coma, induced by the doctors misdiagnosis of his condition. My grandfather had not had a stroke, in fact he had a condition in which his liver was everywhereloaded with toxins and was shutting down. It was a problem hed been suffering from for quite a some time however, none of his doctors had diagnosed his symptoms correctly. The sedative they gave him upon arrival in the exigency room only worsened his condition. Upon waking up, he had to be keep to prevent him from removing his IVs and attempting to get fall out of bed. He improved steadily over the next few days, and we were expecting to have him home soon. Unfortunately, he was left sick one evening and was able to remove his IV, catheter, and then climb out of bed. The nurses found him on the floor of his bathroom. How long he was there, well never know, because the time the nurses told us he was found, we know is not correct. He was given some other dose of a sedative which caused him to be extremely disoriented the followers morning, yet his old self was still shining through.Papaw, I asked upon arriving in his room that morning, Why are you so tired today?Because I made 300 faustnauhts last night. He replied without hesitation. Now, I can opine that anyone would be tired from that, but where my grandfather came up with the word faustnauht alternatively of donut, Ill never know. On Christmas Eve, after spending eleven days in the same hospital bed, he lost circulation in his left leg and had to undergo surgery.