When your time comes, you’ll leave-an old post

I’ve always hated early morning calls or late night calls that are meant for either of my parents. It usually is a bad sign. My dad got a call early morning-a relative met into an accident and it didn’t sound very pretty. By the time, we got the news, my cousin said that, they had stopped pumping in the drugs and were just waiting. I asked my dad, "What are they waiting for?" "just waiting…just waiting" as he stared right ahead,while nodding.I was mature enough to understand what he meant.

I accompanied him to the hospital, in Cheras. I like driving at night when I don’t have plans. It just feels like the old time, when my parents would bring us all to my aunt’s house in puchong or in tmn tun. So last night, was my turn, I drove him to Cheras . I had fun, we talked some pretty serious issues about living in the real world and after that well, we did, what we always do best;try to out laugh each other. He was inducing me into listening to his boring mp3 selection,and singing on top of his lungs and I was also competing with him and I turned the radio dial to the one hates the most-hitz fm. Belting out god knows what song it was. I think it was Sean Paul’s-Temperature.

We reached the hospital about 30 minutes later and then things got a bit more serious. We found a parking and I wasn’t sure if I was hearing things,but I swear, I heard a beeping sound-like those you hear from the heart rate monitor. We headed to the 2nd floor,not before being interrogated by the Guard "We are relatives of Shahrin". Which he said" Oh, yeah you can go up, he’s critical". I did not like the way he said it. It all sounded so real, not like something you watch in the movies where you know, miracles like the patient could suddenly wake up.

Walking down the hallways,pretty much disturbed me. It had this whole sombre ambiance to it, the walls were painted in a depressing brown shade. My dad recognized the wife of the ‘patient’ and I shook hands with her and the rest of the ladies there. I sat with my dad, all the while thinking how depressing and upsetting working in a hospital can be. I am and can be a very emotional person, as we stood on the bench, a lot of things ran in my head. I could not imagine losing someone I loved in a tragic accident.

I looked from the corner of my eye at the lady, she was trying to put on a brave act,she looked calm. I looked at my cousin-in-law, he too was trying to be brave for his mother, his grandmother, everyone. How can they be or act so calm, knowing the fact there was already no hope and all they were doing were waiting for the green line on the monitor to just be..well.. stagnant.

After about 10 minutes of just sittng there, the operation theater door opened, and they wheeled a patient on a bed. I did not want to look, but I did. God, I was really feeling upset and asked my dad whether that was him? He said no. There was a relieved for about a few minutes, when my cousin told my dad that it was our turn to go in.I was taken aback, I have never been in an ICU ward before. I didn’t know what to expect. ‘I don’t want to go in.". Which, my dad turned to me and said" Huh? c’mon, go with me".

We went it, the smell was already nauseating, looking at all of the patients, looking so helpess on their beds, I wanted to cry. When I saw his body on the bed,with all the tubes and machine, I felt like ripping the tubes and wires away. His heartbeat was going 63,61,62,61,63..I prayed hard that he could still survive, since the heartbeat seems well,still beating, but the doctor said, even if he did, he’d be a veggie for life. I felt hopeless, I kept looking around at the other patients, all with a somewhat similar fate. All unconscious and just probably waiting for their time. I realised then that the Malaikat was just there waiting to do his job.

We left the ward 15 minutes or so later. There were others waiting to pay him their last visit. When my cousin came to talk to her mother, updating her on the condition of her husband, she wept. My dad and I decided then we probably should leave, as we had passed my dad’s bedtime. So yeah we left, and I recalled the time when my grandmother was put in ICU and the doctors had call for our relatives to say their farewell. My grandmother survived 7years after her ‘coma’. SO it had always occurred to me that, if my grandmother could, with her heartbeat barely beating then, so could anyone. "your grandmother had a very strong will, even the doctors were surprised". I smiled,for the first time in the hallway of that Hospital. Things happens. Qada’ and Qadar.

Al-Fatihah.