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HOSPITALThey had taken my father to the emergency room. I was left despondent and completely wrecked for what felt like hours. I stood next to him, waiting and worrying. I had done this to him. I pushed him too hard and triggered an episode. After a few hours, I watched as a few doctors converged and spoke about him, looking through my father’s chart.
“Ms. Sakis?” The head doctor came up to me. He smiled gently as he walked me over to the other side where there were a few chairs. “I'm Dr. Cohen. I'm the head of the Gastroenterology department. Your father has a severe case of Crohn’s. I’ve checked with his doctor’s file, he truly wasn’t doing much for him.” He looked over the files again and shook his head. “Ms. Sakis, your father will need surgery. He cannot continue this way, he’s malnourished and his system had overexerted itself,” Dr. Cohen said softly.
“What kind of surgery?” I sobbed. I was barely keeping it together.
“It’s called a colectomy. Essentially, we will be going in and removing his entire large intestine, which is severely compromised. I will then create an ileostomy; it’s a small hole, which will be on the exterior of his body where a small bag will be attached to the abdomen allowing your father to have his bowel movements. By taking out his infected intestines he will be somewhat cured,” he watched me closely as he explained the procedure.
“What do you mean by somewhat?” I asked.
“Well, you are never cured from this disease, but at least he will not feel the pain anymore. Do you understand what I’ve just explained to you? It’s vital for your father’s survival. He needs this surgery,” he implored and I nodded. “I will prep him for tomorrow,” the doctor said, standing up. “See you then.”
He left me there all alone to absorb all the information he told me. I hung my head and cried. Everything I touched ended up getting fucked up. Why did I have to push for him to sell the diner? Why couldn’t I fucking make it all work? I stood up from where I was and made my way to my father. I watched him lay on the gurney, lost to the world around him. He was thinner than me; his face was hollow and he barely had any life left in him. I left the emergency room and called Darren to let him know I couldn’t work this week. I told him about my father and what I had to do. He asked me if there was anything I needed but I said no. The sun was now shining brightly as I sat on the window ledge watching people come and go; some were happy, others sad. I fucking hated hospitals.
I’d have to sell the house to pay for the surgery and the debt the business had incurred. I could feel myself wanting to cry. I wanted to simply wail, but I stifled it, pushing it deep inside me.
I slept by my father’s bed that night. I watched over him every hour, hoping he’d wake up but he didn’t. Daddy, what am I supposed to do if I lose you too? God, please let me have my father at least.
The doctor in charge of my father’s case came early in the morning, already dressed in his scrubs.
“Good morning, Ms. Sakis.”
“Good morning, Dr. Cohen.” I smiled meekly.
“Don’t worry, he’s in good hands. The surgery should take a few hours. Once he’s done I’ll come out and see you,” he said reassuringly.
They wheeled my father out and I followed until I neared the waiting room. There I sat and waited. I curled myself up into a small ball in the chair, my mind wondering off to places it shouldn’t go. I kept praying, making promises to whoever was there to hear me.
“Here.” A Starbucks’ coffee cup dangled in front of my eyes. I followed the hand up to see Daimon standing there in a full suit.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as I slowly stretched my body out from the fetal position I was in.
“Take it,” he insisted. I took the hot coffee and held it, still watching him. “I heard from Darren that your father is having surgery. Are you okay?” he asked as he sat down next to me.
“You and I are done. There is no reason for you to be here,” I said coldly.
“I thought so too,” he smiled and took a sip of his coffee and looked out the window that overlooked the hospital’s center. “How long has he been in for?” Daimon asked, still drinking his coffee.
“A few hours. He should be done by now, I don’t know why they are taking so long,” I said softly, looking toward the surgery area.
“Are you going to tell me what that was two nights ago?” he asked, turning his attention to me.
