There are a lot of things I can say about 2020, but I never knew how much it would cost my family. Not only did the pandemic prevent us from seeing one another as much, but it also kept us from doing activities we had been looking forward to. Then there was my dad’s health, which usually necessitated doctor visits on a more regular basis, but suddenly he wasn’t deemed crucial so his appointments were postponed. Tragically, he spent the entire year on a sharp decline until finally we had to take him for a check up only to find he needed to be admitted in the hospital. Hours turned into days, and within that short space of time, he was faced with the last few weeks of his life without the doctors even realizing that that was the problem until it was too late. With the pandemic worsening, we lost the ability to visit him in person after his first week in the hospital. Then, his kidneys were shutting down and he tested positive for asymptomatic COVID-19, and then coded. When he was revived, he was in isolation in and out of a coma, and we still weren’t allowed to visit because doctors had high hopes that by dialysis his kidneys would improve and he could get strong enough to move to rehab. This thought changed daily, because then we were asked to come see him with the intention of taking him off life support, only to have him come to and be more like himself when we were there.
For the next two weeks, we were filled with hopes that he would slowly improve...but then he had another bad moment where he couldn’t breathe on his own again, and was weaker by the hour. At least at that point we could video chat with him, and he was out of his quarantine period, but it wasn’t the same. He wanted to come home, was confused, and asked about us when he could talk. And just when we had started getting into a video chat schedule and I had called to set up my next one, that’s when I was told we should come to the hospital. Only, when we did, we got held up my a million questions at the check in until the doctor called me and we had to put him on speaker phone to urge the check in nurses to let us meet him at the elevator. We made a mad dash through the halls, out of the elevator, and into Dad’s room...only to find he had just passed. There were a myriad of regrets, what-ifs, and heartaches on that day. It was also my husband’s birthday, one that none of us knew what to do about. In all, it was a sad set of circumstances that led us into a miserable few months of grief, shock, and confusion that only intensified when we suddenly had to put our cat to sleep in the bargain. And now, recently, things have gotten better.
While I'm behind in getting my bearings again with writing goals, I have nevertheless persisted! And in between my day job, I’ve steadily made progress toward what I know Dad would want me to do next: finish my new book! And so I shall.
Until the next blog,
Natasha
