A Safekeeping Journal of the Fatherless Children - Log 3: Six Degrees of Separation

There's nothing quite fearful of losing someone most dear to you, let alone, your own dad. This log would be my personal record of how I remembered Abah's final moments before his passing. This would be a hard pill to swallow.

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Thursday

16th March 2023 | 1223PM

Firstly, I remembered that the day was as bright as the sun that afternoon. All is well, but there's this little hunch of what's left of my guilty heart, that I decided to leave Abah, Mak, and Kak Yan all alone at home. Unfortunately, that very hunch is what came true all along. Around that afternoon, when to my knowledge that my whole siblings were out and about at work, we got a ping from Kak Yan, saying that Abah fell. 

With her little coarse voice, she shrieked, begging for someone nearest to hurry and help, cause Abah was gasping for air in front of the bathroom door. My heart shrunk, the intimidating fear shrouded my afternoon, I left work as soon as I could, even asked the driver to drive quickly but go carefully. 

My SIL and her two kids were the first to arrive, followed by Abg Mie. The family group on WhatsApp was busy with updates on their whereabouts. I had to be dropped halfway since they made it to the Hospital Al-Sultan Abdullah (HASA) UiTM, Puncak Alam. Abg Mie picked me up, and he stepped on the gas harder than a rock. When I got there, I literally ran to the reception counter, and asked the emergency department, since we arrived from the main lobby. 

I saw Kak Ida (SIL) and my niece with her boyfriend busy filling up the registration form, she started crying, "Anas, macam mana ni, Kak Ida menggigil bawa kereta, Abah tak sedarkan diri" And that was probably the worse statement that I don't ever wanna hear again. We both walked to the emergency ward and were greeted by a doctor in pink outfit. She asked a lot of questions, how did it happen, how long Abah had been down with a fever, did he went abroad, how long, did anyone in his close contact is also having a fever, and for me, at that very moment, I thought my brain couldn't process it at once, so I answered briefly, and hopeful that that would be sufficient for them, to help them understand Abah's condition.

He was placed behind the glass door. Right in front of my eyes, Abah was helpless on the cold bed with a blue bedsheet, his body was wrapped with tubes and wires and straps and it was awful to watch. My heart sank, seeing his weak waves of breath. His chest was moving up and down, ever so slowly, and the gaping mouth, panting and gasping for as much air as possible. The worse sight I would never forget.

Allahuakbar - never could I imagine Abah would end up in this state. The nurses showed us to the waiting room, just a few steps away from the glass door. But we went outside first to the registration counter since Along, Kak Long had just arrived and they were waiting with Abg Mie, and my niece and nephew. I helped my niece fill up the registration form. pass over Abah's pensioner card, while Kak Ida guides the rest to the waiting room in the emergency ward. 

They peeked at Abah's weak body through the glass window, and we gathered in the waiting room. Minutes passed, and we got the first visit from a specialist doctor. He was calm and articulated each detail of what was going on. Abah's heart rate was fast, but his oxygen level was super low, at a reading of 82%, hence he couldn't control his breathing and often gasped for air. His lung was weak, and his body was still fighting the bacteria. The doctor pre-diagnosed Abah, with a lung infection. There was devastating silence in the room. Processing each word and bad news from the doctor. He then asked for us to keep on praying hard, they'll monitor Abah's condition until further updates are at their disposal. 

An hour passed, and another doctor came in, the emergency ward's doctor, same questions were asked, the same updates, but no good news yet. My heart was suffocating, eager to hear at least one good news from any of them. Then came in another doctor, the On-Call doctor, same roll. Questions were asked, same updates of what they pre-diagnose Abah with. Then came another doctor, the anesthetist, asking if Abah have any history of heart condition before, has Abah admitted or hospitalized before, did he showed any symptoms of asthma, did he took any supplements, be it traditional or any sort. We said no the two later questions, but Abah did get a neb once, over a year ago cause he was complaining that he had breathing difficulty. 

There were stories shared between the five of us, Kak Ida was on her way to my parent's house, as he prepared crab soup, requested by Abah the night prior. The rest of us were at work, we haven't had our lunch yet that time, and the clock struck 4PM. My stomach was growling, luckily Abg Mie ran to his office to get his stuff and brought some drinks and bread. Since no one is at home to look after the two sick members, Abg Mie decided to go back with the kids. At least someone should be at home to look after the two. 

Secondly, I called my cousin to look after my Mom and Kak Yan, and she take note of that. Before sunset, the earlier anesthetist call us up, since they were administering new medicine for Abah, he needs to be intubated, and moved to the ICU. They called us up and let us see Abah for the first time, the second I saw my dear Abah, he was wide awake, slouched his body forward, and his face was bitter and tired. He immediately saw his kids behind the glass window. My eyes went blurry as quick as I saw him set his pair of weak eyes on me. I gave him a sign to stay strong, put my fist up on my chest, and pat my chest, signaling that Abah needs to fight it, I know he could. He nodded softly. I know he tried to carve a smile, I put my hands on the window, Along, and Kak Long waved to him, and he nodded again. All I could hear was a loud sniffle from Kak Long, and maybe Along too. But I was to laser-focused on my dear Abah.

I mouthed "Abah kena kuat, Abah kena kuat, Abah kena kuat" He tried sitting straight from his slouch, and he was trying to take a look at us, and I mouthed "Adik sayang Abah..." God knows if he could read my lips, but I'm sure at that time, the message was loud and clear. Glided through the echoing emergency ward, though our voices couldn't be heard, and it was probably a muffled sound to him, I knew, he understood that his kids loved him so very much and that we needed him to recover. I wanna take him home, and massage his legs when he's tired of walking and driving. Thousands of vivid memories of him and I, replayed in my mind in that quick passing minute. The nurses looked at us from inside the room as if understands that we can't waste much time and that he needs to be intubated and moved to the ICU. My whole body shivers at seeing his frail frame, we slowly walked away from the glass window, probably the hardest steps I took my whole life, and I could see him following our shadows, hoping to see his kids again. 

Nightfalls

There weren't any hustle and bustle over at the emergency ward, everything seems to be in order, very calm, and collected. The big orange ball sets soundly, and the cold wind seeps in.

Though I only had one piece of bread, I wasn't so hungry at the time, the anxiousness kicks in, and I just want my Abah back standing on his two feet. Prayers were like chains, going round and round, in an endless loop, in the request of any good news bestowed upon us. The small prayer room was my only witness that I cried, wailed, whined, howled, and bellowed like a lost soul. I would trade everything in my possession that night, for my Abah to get better. My sight was blurred by the overflowing tears, my heart was heavy, and the realization was too painful to be processed. 

There was the first call from the ICU since I put my number as the emergency contact. They were asking for consent to plug in the cardiac output machine, which will cost around RM800, and they're administering the 4th meds for Abah. I straight away gave my consent without any discussion, cause at that time, I believe that was the best for him. And it has been almost 7 hours we waited with no good news from them. The hospital operates on a standard operation hour, so the lobby was quiet by night time. We nestled ourselves in the discharge lounge and take turns reciting Yassin, praying, catch a difficult nap for a few good minutes. The second call was around 10PM when the ICU doctor asked us to go up and see her. I went up with Kak Long. Again, there wasn't much improvement, rather than his heart rate has been normal, his temperature receded, and his breathing was much calmer than before. 

We updated the family. What items do they need, such as Linovera Oil for Abah's legs, to circulate the blood better, stockings, disposable Pampers in size M or bigger, and wet wipes. Kak Farah arrived from Penang around 1230AM. Along, Kak Long, Angah, Kak Ida, and I, decided to be on standby at the hospital in case the doctor would call us up. Abg Mie and Kak Farah would be on standby at home to take care of Mak and Kak Yan. That's the first day shift.

At around 2AM, we were all fast asleep at the purple sofas, curling like shrimps cause it wasn't big enough to sleep on, to begin with. I was awakened at around 3AM by the clicking heels of the guards that took turns changing shifts, I got up, went to pee, did a brief solat hajat again, recite some Yassin again, pray some more, and whimper like a wolf. These were not just tears of sadness, these were tears of feeling helpless. There's so much you wanna do, but you can't. You just gotta keep waiting, for hours, with no good news, and preparing your mental check for the worst. These were tears of frustration, and I want so much to be by his side, and whisper the kalimah Syahadah, ask him to fight it off, I know his strong enough, he has shown nothing but endurance, for the past 31 years I've known him. These were tears of hopefulness that he would wake up again the next day. 

I'm not giving up on him. Not tonight, not today, not ever. 

Friday

17th March 2023 | 0717AM

Right after Subuh prayer that morning, I straight away called the ICU, and asked for any update on Abah. According to the nurse on duty, Abah's BP was normal at 107/74, his pulse wasn't as fast as yesterday, and his SPO level was at 100% with the maximum capacity of the machine that helped him, but that's also credited to his willpower to fight off the breathing issue. That was some sort of relief to hear, that I quickly updated the group and called my dear friend, just a mere update of what was happening. And he asked me to keep strong, and he said that though he knows that it was almost impossible to do so, knowing how fragile our condition was, he urged for me to try, and he prayed for the best of news, he prayed for us, he prayed for Abah. I choked, breathless, swallowed my undeveloped words, and couldn't hold the overwhelming feelings that flooded my brain.

We end the call, and I wiped away the falling tears, and the sky was gloomy at first, but the sun rose up and her rays filled up that morning. The rest of us had our breakfast that morning, and we freshen up. We managed a few smiles in our dry conversation, it's the beginning of a new day, and we got to visit Abah this afternoon according to the visitation hour. 

I tried calling again around 9AM, but I was scolded by the staff, cause obviously I just called earlier at 7AM, and now urging for another update, she kindly advised saying that, if we wanna call up, yes sure go ahead, but they won't be having any hourly updates, let them call us for new information. To I obeyed. The four of them went home first to freshen up, shower, and change clothes, and I stayed at the discharge lounge. Listening to the TV when they're replaying tasbih, tahmid, and takbir. I prayed along, quietly. 

1230PM | Visitation hour

Kak Long and I quickly queued up, but to our surprise, there was already someone registered to visit Abah, and they were already in the ICU. They were couple who managed the agency that handles Abah's trip to Umrah. So we had to wait. No one told us anything about anyone coming to visit at such early time. We had to wait around 10-15 minutes before they came down, and we exchanged salam. No time to waste, Kak Long and I jolted to the counter, and we headed toward ICU at level 4. 

It was another scene that I could never wipe away from my memory, seeing Abah intubated, with the full-fledged machine over on his left, right, above, and below. Tubes, wires, and straps, doubled from the ones in the emergency ward. He was separated by two glass doors, not one, but two. We couldn't go in, it was another case of seeing from behind the glass doors. We waited for the On-Call doctor to explain to us his condition that afternoon. 

No significant progress from Abah so far. They're still administering 4th meds for him, fed him sugar solutions as his source of energy and food, and his pee was too little for his weight, and they slowly reducing the dosage of the 3 meds to let Abah fight it off on his own, and the reading wasn't significant enough to call it an improvement. According to him, unless they stopped one of the 4 medicines, not so much progress from Abah's initial condition. We let ourselves out, and Along and I went to the nearby mosque for Friday prayers. 

It has officially been 24hrs since I've been in the hospital. Didn't shower, had very little sleep, and worried sick of my Abah. That evening, we decided to rotate our shifts. The five of us to go back, and the other two to take our place at the hospital. We agreed almost instantaneously. The four of us had quick lunch, that evening, I collected my belongings and went home with Angah. Along and Kak Long stayed for a while longer, waiting for the other two to arrive and they'll take turns between the four of them. 

I greeted Mak, she had this puzzled look, of where could her youngest child be the whole day. I smiled lightly. Kissed and hold her tightly. Had my shower and a proper meal. Kak Farah and Abg Mie were already there on standby. Kak Long and Along were there too after they went home for a change of clothes.

At around 850PM, I got another call from the ICU. I updated the group, the infection was getting worst, they ran a MERSCOV test, but the result was still pending. They administered the fifth meds to Abah now, called Meropenem (perhaps the strongest) to supply calcium directly to his heart. His heart rate was super weak, and when the on-call doc made her rounds, Abah's BP was also low at 73/85. They started antibiotics and antivirals. They've already called the kidney specialist to read on ureal complications in case of any issue since Abah didn't pee much. There was a possibility of dialysis. 

It was indeed a long night for the whole family. I immediately called up whoever was available that night shift, to go up to the ICU, cause the doctor would like to see the next of kin. Kak Farah and Kak Long went up. Abg Mie has just arrived, and he got up too. 

1000PM

Kak Long video called the whole family. The medical doctor requested for us, as she has something to discuss with the whole family. Kak Yan and I woke Mak up. She startled, but almost immediately she could read the room. 

"Mak, doktor nak jumpa semua ahli keluarga" I muttered. 

"Sekarang ke?" she asked. I nodded. We helped her get ready and drove over to the hospital.

The night was pitch black. Everyone was maybe getting their fully deserving rest for the weekend. The road was quiet, only a few cars passing by, as it was quite late. We got off at the main entrance, holding my Mak's hands, and she was ever so strong, stood there for a while, adjusted her posture, and walked with us. And just when I thought everything was over, it was far from done. And in fact, it was just the beginning of this shitty feeling that your heart can't ever be content. Forever longing. 

-to be continued.