The Worst September of my Life, chapter 1
I looked over at my mom. She had an extremely worried look on her face. She turned to me and said, "Stacie, everything going to be fine. Don't worry about this." My dad was in the hospital for surgery and he still hadn't come out of the operating room yet. My brother, my mom and I already went down to the cafeteria about fifty times. Stanford Hospital food is good." Come on, lets go and see if he's out yet."
We walked up the stairs, since I have a great fear of elevators. I'll freak out if I have to go in one. I started to sit down in the waiting room, or should I say the surgery waiting room. My mom walked over to the desk and asked an old lady if my dad has come out of surgery yet. "No, I'm very sorry, he has not." She turned around and slowly walked back to where we were sitting. "Hasn't finished yet."
"It's been like four hours, how long does it take for brain surgery?" My brother asked. He's only 8 so he wouldn't know that it takes a long time to do anything.
"Honey, things like that take a long time, just be patient, okay." My mom said trying to smile. She was trying really hard not to break down and not start to cry. You could tell she was worried.
I started to watch the people being wheeled out of the operating rooms. They were all going directly into ICU (intensive care unit). I was silently hoping that my dad was not one of them.
An hour later * * *
"Mrs. Jamieson?" A doctor walked out of these double doors and started walking toward us. My hands started shaking just like they always do when I see a doctor or see, or hear something that could ruin my life. "I would like to inform you that, your husband's surgery has been finished. He is just waking up. You can come and see him the next time I come out."
My brother and I suddenly got happier. For the next thirty minutes or so we flew paper airplanes around the waiting room, until some of the airplanes flew down the stairs and started falling on people.
The doctor came back out and we were allowed to go in and see my dad. He was lying on a normal hospital bed in the back of the surgery waiting room. He looked okay, besides the fact that they shaved off all of his hair which wasn't that long in the first place, but oh well. You could see the wire running down the side of his neck (FYI the wire was under his skin, so you could only see the line that it made). There was a soon to be scar where they cut him open on his head and on his collarbone where they stuck a battery in. Since this was only the second time Stanford had ever done anything like this, I thought it looked okay for the most part. (you're probably wondering why my dad was in there so... )
*Flashback to 5th grade*(I'm in 8th now, that's also when this takes place)
We were driving along the highway, I being my normal self was sitting next to my dad with my feet up on the dashboard in the front seat play on my gameboy color I got for Christmas the year before. All of a sudden I heard my mom scream. I looked up to see dust circling around us. I dropped my gameboy and covered my head just as all our windows blew out and we rolled up onto a hill. When we stopped, my brother, me, my mom and dad all jumped out of the car and ran off as far away from it as possible. A car had come up on the side of you and rammed into us, causing the car to spin around and roll up the side of a hill. The car hit my dad's door.
When the paramedics came they said that if my dad wasn't as strong as he was he would have died. And if we weren't in a big Suburban like we were all of us would have died. My dad said he was fine, they took him away in the paramedics while the rest of us got to ride in a police car.
Only days later my dad started having really bad headaches and found out he might have to get surgery for them to not hurt as bad. Three years later he got that surgery.
*End flashback*
The doctor said we could take my dad home, but not to get him wet for a few days. It just so happened to be raining as my mom and I sprinted off to get the car and umbrellas for him. We got him in the car and drove off toward our hotel into some of the worst days of my life.
We got to the hotel, I went inside to go sleep after this day. But, I looked at the phone to check the messages. Besides the usual one (this guy kept calling us thinking his wife was here and telling her to come home) there was one from my grandpa telling us to come straight away. He lives in Oakdale (3 hours away from Oakland).
The next day * * *
We got to my grandpa's house, right as he was about to leave. He dragged my mom and me out the door with him. He said, "Stacie, your grandma's been asking for you. Come with me I don't think she'll be here much longer."
On the way there I started to cry knowing my favorite grandma wouldn't be there to see me graduate the 8th grade (which I just started in August) and would never see me again. My mom (this is my mom's mom (my grandma))
When we got there the lady at information told us to go the CCU (critical care unit worse than ICU). We stepped inside the little room and I saw my grandma hooked up to a breathing machine with as many other machines connected to that as well. She could only whisper, but she told me that she loved me.
*Flashback*
I'm around 3 and sitting on the floor in my grandma's house. Both my parents are working and she babysat me. I was playin with blocks and getting mad because they wouldn't stack. I started to throw the blocks around and ended up hitting the TV and making it spark. Oops... My grandma just picked me up and took me into the other room. She wasn't even mad.
*End flashback*
We stayed at the hospital for hours. I hate hospitals now. They're full of people dying, it's like, yeah we're sending you to a hospital so we can wait for you to die. Very fun... NOT. Once we went home I fell right asleep. Only to be woken up the next day by a phone call saying that we should go to the hospital right then.
At the hospital * * *
"I don't think she'll be around for much longer." a doctor said to us as we walked into the room.
She couldn't even talk when we were in there. It's like she wasn't even there with us. Just hooked up to all these machines making beeping sounds. As soon as the machines would start to slow down (she was dying more) I would talk to her and they would go up some. But, soon not even that would help.
Later that day all of the beeping sounds stopped. We all knew what it meant. I couldn't move. I just stood there bawling like an idiot. Everything was going wrong in my life. I knew that this was coming but I didn't think I would handle it like this. I thought I would cry, but not just stand there and break down. I started to shake, like I did in Stanford and sat down. My mom grandpa, uncle and I all sat around crying for at least an hour or two. I hated everything that was happening to me. And it was all in the same month. The month I got three D's on my report card (because I was out of school for most of September), the month my dad had surgery, and the month my grandma died. Could life be any worse? Yes, the answer was yes, but I didn't want it to.
We got home and the only ting that I knew would help me feel better was music. And the only song I could listen to for the rest of the week was 'Wake me up When September Ends'. Hmm, I wonder why.
We walked up the stairs, since I have a great fear of elevators. I'll freak out if I have to go in one. I started to sit down in the waiting room, or should I say the surgery waiting room. My mom walked over to the desk and asked an old lady if my dad has come out of surgery yet. "No, I'm very sorry, he has not." She turned around and slowly walked back to where we were sitting. "Hasn't finished yet."
"It's been like four hours, how long does it take for brain surgery?" My brother asked. He's only 8 so he wouldn't know that it takes a long time to do anything.
"Honey, things like that take a long time, just be patient, okay." My mom said trying to smile. She was trying really hard not to break down and not start to cry. You could tell she was worried.
I started to watch the people being wheeled out of the operating rooms. They were all going directly into ICU (intensive care unit). I was silently hoping that my dad was not one of them.
An hour later * * *
"Mrs. Jamieson?" A doctor walked out of these double doors and started walking toward us. My hands started shaking just like they always do when I see a doctor or see, or hear something that could ruin my life. "I would like to inform you that, your husband's surgery has been finished. He is just waking up. You can come and see him the next time I come out."
My brother and I suddenly got happier. For the next thirty minutes or so we flew paper airplanes around the waiting room, until some of the airplanes flew down the stairs and started falling on people.
The doctor came back out and we were allowed to go in and see my dad. He was lying on a normal hospital bed in the back of the surgery waiting room. He looked okay, besides the fact that they shaved off all of his hair which wasn't that long in the first place, but oh well. You could see the wire running down the side of his neck (FYI the wire was under his skin, so you could only see the line that it made). There was a soon to be scar where they cut him open on his head and on his collarbone where they stuck a battery in. Since this was only the second time Stanford had ever done anything like this, I thought it looked okay for the most part. (you're probably wondering why my dad was in there so... )
*Flashback to 5th grade*(I'm in 8th now, that's also when this takes place)
We were driving along the highway, I being my normal self was sitting next to my dad with my feet up on the dashboard in the front seat play on my gameboy color I got for Christmas the year before. All of a sudden I heard my mom scream. I looked up to see dust circling around us. I dropped my gameboy and covered my head just as all our windows blew out and we rolled up onto a hill. When we stopped, my brother, me, my mom and dad all jumped out of the car and ran off as far away from it as possible. A car had come up on the side of you and rammed into us, causing the car to spin around and roll up the side of a hill. The car hit my dad's door.
When the paramedics came they said that if my dad wasn't as strong as he was he would have died. And if we weren't in a big Suburban like we were all of us would have died. My dad said he was fine, they took him away in the paramedics while the rest of us got to ride in a police car.
Only days later my dad started having really bad headaches and found out he might have to get surgery for them to not hurt as bad. Three years later he got that surgery.
*End flashback*
The doctor said we could take my dad home, but not to get him wet for a few days. It just so happened to be raining as my mom and I sprinted off to get the car and umbrellas for him. We got him in the car and drove off toward our hotel into some of the worst days of my life.
We got to the hotel, I went inside to go sleep after this day. But, I looked at the phone to check the messages. Besides the usual one (this guy kept calling us thinking his wife was here and telling her to come home) there was one from my grandpa telling us to come straight away. He lives in Oakdale (3 hours away from Oakland).
The next day * * *
We got to my grandpa's house, right as he was about to leave. He dragged my mom and me out the door with him. He said, "Stacie, your grandma's been asking for you. Come with me I don't think she'll be here much longer."
On the way there I started to cry knowing my favorite grandma wouldn't be there to see me graduate the 8th grade (which I just started in August) and would never see me again. My mom (this is my mom's mom (my grandma))
When we got there the lady at information told us to go the CCU (critical care unit worse than ICU). We stepped inside the little room and I saw my grandma hooked up to a breathing machine with as many other machines connected to that as well. She could only whisper, but she told me that she loved me.
*Flashback*
I'm around 3 and sitting on the floor in my grandma's house. Both my parents are working and she babysat me. I was playin with blocks and getting mad because they wouldn't stack. I started to throw the blocks around and ended up hitting the TV and making it spark. Oops... My grandma just picked me up and took me into the other room. She wasn't even mad.
*End flashback*
We stayed at the hospital for hours. I hate hospitals now. They're full of people dying, it's like, yeah we're sending you to a hospital so we can wait for you to die. Very fun... NOT. Once we went home I fell right asleep. Only to be woken up the next day by a phone call saying that we should go to the hospital right then.
At the hospital * * *
"I don't think she'll be around for much longer." a doctor said to us as we walked into the room.
She couldn't even talk when we were in there. It's like she wasn't even there with us. Just hooked up to all these machines making beeping sounds. As soon as the machines would start to slow down (she was dying more) I would talk to her and they would go up some. But, soon not even that would help.
Later that day all of the beeping sounds stopped. We all knew what it meant. I couldn't move. I just stood there bawling like an idiot. Everything was going wrong in my life. I knew that this was coming but I didn't think I would handle it like this. I thought I would cry, but not just stand there and break down. I started to shake, like I did in Stanford and sat down. My mom grandpa, uncle and I all sat around crying for at least an hour or two. I hated everything that was happening to me. And it was all in the same month. The month I got three D's on my report card (because I was out of school for most of September), the month my dad had surgery, and the month my grandma died. Could life be any worse? Yes, the answer was yes, but I didn't want it to.
We got home and the only ting that I knew would help me feel better was music. And the only song I could listen to for the rest of the week was 'Wake me up When September Ends'. Hmm, I wonder why.
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