Comfortable+Cancer

Comfortable Cancer

Honestly, I felt a mix between sadness and surprise when I walked behind my family through the clean, marble floor. There was our relatives -even ones I could not recognize - gathered around the waiting room of the hospital. Some looked as if they had been crying for hours, others looked shocked and there were people who -like me- had no idea of how to respond to all the happenings. Uncle Emil was in one of those doors, dying. For, he had cancer, and -to me- he didn't deserve it. He was the fun type of uncle who was witty, yet kept peace. He was naughty and had a good sense of humor and he wasn't very old. In short, I never gave thought to his death, especially so soon. I walked to one of the unoccupied chairs and watched everyone. Everything seemed quite normal, besides the young children laughing (how?!). I can't say that I was disappointed in them, but I can't say that I was glad to see them that way either. Then again, maybe it was better if they just enjoyed. Plus, their good mood seemed to cheer up the adults. I decided to laugh with some of them too, despite the situation. Although it was Sunday that day, I didn't mind if we all spent a whole day in the hospitals waiting room. We were so much more lucky compared to Uncle Emil who was in pain at the moment. There we were. Waiting for our turn to see Uncle Emil. Many said he looked haggard and terrifying. Still, I wanted to see him for myself -for himself-. He had been asking to see us, for he knew he might die soon. Just the thought of it was hard to bare. I was surprised to hear that he accepted his death so freely.

I talked with my cousins, played with the children, texted people who were only two steps away, talked with the adults, ate food…etc. Hours past with different feelings that I can't exactly make out. Then, finally we were allowed to go to Uncle Emil. I tried to expect the worse, so that Uncle Emil doesn't get offended / hurt by my expression when I see him. We went through many halls. At first, I thought that it would be impossible to memorize the way to get to Uncle Emil's room, but after visiting about a billion times, I learned. We entered the room and I think my expression -despite all my practice- was horrified. He could barely move, nor speak and he looked so thin and…forgive me, but…he looked dry and already dead…He still recognized us (thank goodness! Our trip would have been nearly useless if he didn't! That trip was long!). I was even surprised to hear him joke like his old self and even sing. At least he tried to be positive (it was pretty obvious that he didn't like this. I mean, who would like cancer?!). We all stood there around him for about forty minutes until we were told to go back to the waiting room to give others a turn. I was somewhat thankful because my legs hurt from standing. Now that I remember that, I find myself quite selfish to complain about my legs while my uncle was dying. A week passed and Uncle Emil was still alive. In some way, this was a good thing (because none wanted him to die), but in another way, it wasn't because he was in more and more pain by the hour. The doctors gave him pills, connected an oxygen mask, a feeding tube and dextrose, but those only annoyed him even more. He wasn't allowed to eat or go to the bathroom on his own.

To add up to all of these misfortunes, Uncle Emil's mom was still alive and healthy. He worried a lot about her because she was old (eighty years old!) and forgetful. Before he got cancer, he was mostly in charge of her (AND his twin brother). That added up to it too! Uncle Emil had a twin brother! Twins have some sort of unexplainable bond which, made Uncle Emil's death even harder. He didn't want to die yet. I felt sorry for all three of them. His poor twin would be left alone and his mom. (Imagine seeing your son die before you do! Wouldn't you rather die in exchange because you're older and your life is more complete?!). Of course, no one could do anything, but wait. Wait for death...

-Again- a week passed. We suddenly got a call one day. Uncle Emil's sister said in a worried tune, "He is…going to die today…". We rushed to the hospital.

I felt somewhat relieved that Uncle Emil won't go through anymore pain, but I still thought he had a chance to live… I truly counted on it.

We arrived to see nearly everyone crying (besides -of course- the children).

I almost felt tears too, but it wasn't much. I actually felt heartless. How did I NOT cry?! We checked on Uncle Emil right away. Indeed, he looked worse. He was classified as "near death" so he was moved to a floor where all the "near death" people went. Everyone in the rooms looked just as bad. I suddenly felt sympathy for all of them. A doctor came with a funny voice. He told us that he was to put Uncle Emil to sleep. We all cried by then, but we agreed…it was the right thing to do. We said our goodbyes to him, but we didn't tell him that he was to be put to sleep. Still, he was a very smart man, he knew, you could tell. The doctor came back and put Uncle Emil to sleep. "This will make you comfortable" He said with a sly grin. He came out and pat Uncle Emil's mom (my grandma) Sympathetically. "OOH GRANDMA! DON'T WORRY! HE IS COMFORTABLE!" I cried and laughed at the same time. How funny… I thought the doctor's voice kind of broke the moment…

Uncle Emil died in a very sad yet, funny way. On his funeral, he was smiling in the casket. No one made him smile that way. He was obviously happy and….. "comfortable". :D