From the mind of a son, translated…
The year that I’d interned at the emergency room, I’d always feared that my father would become one of the patients, every time I’d heard on the announcement system, that there was an unknown male patient, I’d always gone to check. My father had been ill a long time, one morning, he had a stroke, was found by a neighbor, to be lying at the park, having a seizure, but after being treated, he’d gotten stabilized, and can now, live on his own.
I can’t believe, that my father who’d always been so strong, how he’d missed the signs of him growing weaker, back then, I’d spent all of my waking hours on my post, learned to ask the patients what was the matter, and how to treat their difficulties, and, in this busyness, I’d gotten a call, as I’d dialed back, it was, a stranger, telling me about my father’s conditions, how ironic! My heart became twitched and tangled, I’d immediately rushed to the other hospital, saw my father, panting hard, at a corner of the emergency room; what’s worse was, I’d worked through the days and the nights, and neglected to ask him how he was, and was completely clueless about his mental and physical health.
I should’ve known, that my father had concealed his condition from me, because he didn’t want me to worry, I should’ve gotten that something wasn’t right from how fatigued he looked, all those knowledge I’d learned from medical school allowed me to look at every patient’s situations subjectively, but, I couldn’t see clearly what was going on with those I loved………I’d started doubting my love toward my father now, compared to those who’d kept me up all night long, thinking over their conditions, I don’t even know when was the last time my dad went to his doctor’s appointment, must there be a give and take between a greater kind of love and the love you have for those who are close to you?
There was a time, when I’d gotten trapped in the emotions of self-blame, before my father’s bed, I’d looked over his charts hard, trying to find a way, to make this love I have for him complete; but, what surfaced into my mind was not the medical knowledge, but the days my father and I spent together. The tears of regrets stained my white robe, and, it was, as if my father heard my helpless cries, he’d worked hard, opened up his eyes, and told me, to not worry so much, word by word.
My father couldn’t control his drool, and, it’d slowly overflowed from the corner of his lips, I’d wiped it up lightly, I didn’t want someone else to look after him again, even as my father ushered me to head back to work, I’d still told him no. This time, I want to, keep watch over my father, as his son.
And this, is how someone had become too focused on his job, that he’d forgotten about how important family is, but gladly, he’d gotten that wake up call just in time.