“First time in five months, I won’t be at Room A101, ICU IJN when I’m in KL”
That’s what we received on our family group on WhatsApp today.
Two days ago, I lost my Opah – my paternal grandmother. She was diabetic and starting from her kidneys, everything just got worse for her. She was at the ICU at IJN for five months. She had suffered enough. A part of me was glad that she’s now in a better place. We knew she hated that Room A101. It’s super lonely but she needed to be there.
I’m thankful that when she breathed her last breath, I was there. The night before she was gone, her organs started to fail and her heart rate was dropping rapidly. That’s when the hospital advised us to call all of our relatives to visit my dying Opah.
There were almost 20 or 30 people in that room, just staring at the heart rate monitor. In a way it was like a countdown. It’s crazy to think it was like we were counting down for someone’s death. But the truth is we wanted her to be free of pain and at the same time we wished a little that she would survive.
At 7.44pm, her heart rate dropped from 28 to 0. I’ll never forget that moment. For a minute, everyone was stunned and then I heard shahadah being recited along with a lot of sobbing. My uncle, my Dad’s elder brother totally lost it. I think no one in that room has never seen him like that before. He was hurt the most, it was obvious. He came from Kedah that day and he prayed hard all the way that Opah held on until he arrived and she did.
My Dad had to be the strongest one in that room. His brother was in pieces and the doctor still needed to speak to someone on what happens next. I’m so proud of my Dad but who knows what he really feels. He was the last one to see Opah awake the day before and I’m glad that my Dad gave his everything to be there for her.
This part of life, I wish I could just skip it. Not the dying part but the sad part. I hate being sad, I hate seeing people I love get hurt.
But this is how life goes.