Essay About Family: Waiting for Papaw :: Personal Narrative Family Grandfathers Essays

h sure-enough(a) for PapawI am under the belief that the concept of beat as we know it, does not exist in hospitals. Upon entering, one loses each sense of what sentence it is, what day of the week it is, and how long theyve been there. Hospitals are places of healing, of caring, of corking medical advancements and live saving procedures. They are a place of cooperate chances, of last chances, and sometimes very little chance at all. They are also a place for dying. I learned all of this and whence some during the eighteen days in December that I spend at my grandads bedside in Holy Spirit Hospital. My grandfather went into the hospital with the symptoms of a stroke on Saturday, December 13, 2003. He dog- shopworn the first 4 days of his stay in a coma, induce by the doctors misdiagnosis of his condition. My grandfather had not had a stroke, in fact he had a condition in which his liver was overloaded with toxins and was shutting down. It was a problem hed been suffering f rom for quite some time however, none of his doctors had diagnosed his symptoms correctly. The sedative they gave him upon arrival in the emergency room alone worsened his condition. Upon waking up, he had to be restrained to prevent him from removing his IVs and attempting to make out out of bed. He improved steadily over the next few days, and we were expecting to have him home soon. Unfortunately, he was left unrestrained one evening and was able to remove his IV, catheter, and then climb out of bed. The nurses found him on the floor of his bathroom. How long he was there, well never know, because the time the nurses told us he was found, we know is not correct. He was given another dose of a sedative which caused him to be extremely disoriented the following morning, yet his old self was still shining through.Papaw, I asked upon arriving in his room that morning, why are you so tired today?Because I made three hundred faustnauhts last night. He replied without hesitation. No w, I can imagine that anyone would be tired from that, but where my grandfather came up with the word faustnauht instead of donut, Ill never know. On Christmas Eve, after spending eleven days in the same hospital bed, he lost circulation in his left outgrowth and had to undergo surgery.