In Recovery

Boston Commons in the snow.

It’s like entering the Starship Enterprise when you walk through the constantly rotating doors of Mass General Hospital. There is a swarm of human activity, of nurses, doctors, cleaners, loved ones, sick ones, every human characteristic, both emotional and physical, can be seen here. 

At Mass General, there seems to an electric static in the air that makes the place pulse like a heart. This is all subjective of course. Only those that work there may perhaps give a more objective, more drab description of the place, but for the rest of us, we are there to either see loved ones who are sick or to see new life being given. Both highly emotional moments in our lives.

 I was there with my mother and we clutched to each other as we made our way up to the 14^th floor at 8:00pm on January 15^th. We had been told that the surgery had gone well and he, my father, would be brought to the Bigelow wing soon.

My father had undergone a laparoscopy surgery to remove a part of his colon which had been around the tumor. The tumor was now gone but the specialist wanted to be extra sure that the cancer would never come back. This also meant disconnecting his small intestine and giving him a bag for a couple of months as well as a monthly dose of chemotherapy.  

He was finally brought to his room at 9:00pm. He was groggy but that was to be expected after 6 ½ hours of surgery.

It was hard, so hard to see him in a hospital bed, so weak and seemingly so vulnerable. But we spoke and we cried and assured each other that this had to de done.

Over the next few days he improved. There were setbacks of course and sleepless nights, sometimes with a lot of pain, but he is certainly getting better.

We went for walks around the hospital floor, all three of us. We would then go to the hallway between two wings where the walls were windows, and gaze out over the city of Boston.  One day there was sun and we could feel the warm rays, reminiscent of a warmer climate that we called home. The next day snow fell silently onto the rooftops and pavement below. We watched it all. Mom and I willed him to become better and to feel that snow on his face sometime soon.

I find it hard to see strangers taking care of loved ones. Yes they are nurses, doctors, professionals, but strangers nonetheless. It is frustrating when they take that little bit of control out of our hands.

But they were good at Mass General. They saw our determination to care for him and left us to it. Of course, all the nurses love dad because he flatters them whenever he can. And he is a good patient to, one that rarely complains.

He will be out soon hopefully. All that is left now is to rest and heal. I am currently on a train taking me away from him, which feels altogether wrong. But I know he will be OK. He has my mother and he has the determination to make this his first and last lengthy stay in a hospital.