The Hardest Question

I started this blog a while back, but I have been reluctant to share it. It was very personal to me. This is for my friends, family, and professors who have been so supportive of me through this though journey. 

Thank You

" Do you want us to take him off the ventilation?" 

- anonymous nurse 

It's pass midnight, and I am still sitting in the hospital waiting room as if something will happen.I haven't been able to focus on school or work.  I haven't been able to sleep. When I do sleep, I dream about what he might be dreaming of when he's all alone in bed 3 of the SICU. I dream about all the things I could have done for him when he was well, healthy, and awake. I fall deep into my guilt of not appreciating him enough. 

7:00 PM 
My sister messages me to inform me that she found grandpa laying on the floor not knowing if he fell or if his legs became weak. She described him bleeding from the mouth, and I panicked. He was then sent to the local hospital via ambulance.

8:20 PM 

I arrive at the emergency department of the hospital expecting my grandfather to be in a regular ER room. Instead, he was in trauma with I don't even know how many doctors, surgeons, and nurses. I just remember seeing curtains between my grandfather with the medical team and me. Through an uncovered area of the room I could see the face of a nurse observing. Blood was constantly dripping onto the floor and I remember thinking how I've never been in such a situation. My uncle and I just sat outside the room until a doctor came out to tell us he was going to contact more surgeons, and then the surgeon comes out telling us they can't find his source of internal bleeding. We were then transferred to the surgical department.

12:00 AM
The surgeon comes to tell us that my grandfather is stabilized and that they found the source of bleeding to be a tumor like mass. He sounded very confident when he told us that there was a very high possibility that what they removed was a malignant stage 3 tumor and that my grandfather may only have a year left to live. Hearing this news, my family and I were devastated. I stayed at the hospital thinking about the options we had to think about from here on out. But, at-least my grandfather was stable, for now.

3:00 AM
I had fallen asleep on the waiting room chairs when a female surgeon woke me up. She sat on the edge of the table adjacent to me while I put my glasses on.
 " I'm afraid your grandfather is bleeding at a faster rate than we can deliver blood to him and the hospital is on our last two supplies of blood", she told me.
I was startled, "So...no matter how much blood he gets, it's no use?".
She replied with a stern "Yes, do you want to take a moment to call family?"
 I had to take a few minutes to process what I had just heard. I had to ask her several times "There is nothing else we can do? There is nothing else? How long does he have to live? Is there nothing....?" I curled up into a corner of the waiting room and proceeded to make phone calls.

6:00 AM 
I decided to move myself from the waiting room to my grandfathers room. At least 6 different machine where hooked up to him from all directions. His swollen face was the only thing I could see while the rest of his body was covered in numerous blankets to retain his body temperature. I prayed for god to save my grandfather. I got on my knees with my fingers webbed together and prayed harder than I ever have in my entire life. At this moment, one of the nurses stood very close to me. I will never forget the words that came from her mouth; she said, "Do you want us to take him off the ventilation?"

I understood very well what she meant. However, I asked her what she meant anyway. She couldn't speak, like the words were stuck at the roof of her mouth because she knew it was difficult. I made the decision to wait until the rest of my family came to make such decisions. 

6:25 AM
A new surgeon came for his shift, he checked my grandfather, and decided to transfuse more blood. His decision, made a different in my grandfathers life. Because of his decision, my grandfather survived that day. It was as if a miracle blessed him.

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After that day, my grandfather stayed in the hospital and was constantly transferred from room to room, and to different hospitals depending on his conditions. The emotional roller coaster was like none other. Some days when I visited him, the nurse would tell me that he was stable and showing signs of recovery. Other days, the nurse would tell me that things weren't looking too well.

My grandfather was in an excruciating amount of pain. His stomach was removed so he could not eat or drink and was fed through an IV. His kidneys failed him, and then his liver, and gradually his entire system. His trachea was punctured for ventilation so he couldn't speak. He would use hand gestures that we only sometimes understood. Relatives from all over came to visit him, except his daughters who could not due to international regulations. Medication was his lifeline at this point, but we assured him everything was going to be alright.

I still remember the disappointment on his face. He knew he wasn't okay. His every movement gave him pain. His eyes were glossed over as if death was starring right at him. He wrote in the air once, "I want to go HOME". This phrase broke me. I imagined how alone he must have felt by himself in the hospital where he didn't understand anything the doctors and nurses said. How scared he must have been. I wanted, more than anything, for my grandfather to come home one day. The doctors suggested putting him in hospice, but I ignorantly denied. I believed he would recover from the bottom of my heart.

Three months passed with me visiting him nearly everyday, On June 21st, I went to visit him as usual. However, he wasn't in his room. In panic, I ran to the nurse to ask her where he was. At the same moment, I received a phone call from within the hospital. After that, I sat down with two surgeons in the SICU where my grandfather was transferred back to. They broke the news about his abnormal heart, and that he wouldn't live past the night. I remember shaking uncontrollably and feeling light headed. I watched over my grandfather in his room, his eyes were closed and he wasn't responding to any calls for his name. For hours, I sat staring at him hoping he would just open his eyes. Wishing the doctors would tell me that he would survive.

At around 12:30 am, the nurse shut off the monitor. My grandfather's sisters cried at his bedside, calling out his name. He seems as if he was using the last bit of strength in his body to open his eyes so that he could see his family for the last time. However, he couldn't open his eyes. His face frowned as he twitched, and a tear rolled down his cheeks. His legs became stone cold. I checked for a pulse but couldn't find any. I tried one hand and then the other. Then the doctor comes in to inform me.

On June 22 at 12:55 AM, my grandfather passed away at only 76 lbs.

At the moment, the world collapsed on me, The loudest cries came from this room, and life never seemed so fragile as it did in that very moment. My grandfather was a strong man, a fighter, a loving brother, a caring father. Rest in Peace.

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I will end the blog here. This experience has changed me as a person and the way I look at my life, but that reflection will be for next time. Thank You for reading.

Even If I'm Crawling

"You have the most willpower out of anyone I know"

- Friend of mine

That's what a friend said to me after we both pulled an all-nighter at the library frantically studying for an exam. Little did she know, those words meant so much to me. It fueled my willpower more in a way. It might have been the first time someone explicitly recognized my uphill fight. I really appreciate it.

Finals are coming up, so I thought I would take some time and reflect on my life and goals before I dwindle down to a bundle of tears in fear of grades. This semester has changed me a lot as an individual. I found Christianity and God. It's a new little coven of peace that I never had before. The idea that God will always we there for me has comforted me more than ever. The unconditional love that the lord gives is honestly irreplaceable.

This all happened when I finally snapped last month. It's my junior year in college. The year where I have to impress people with a stellar GPA, 99% percentile MCAT score, volunteer hours, shadowing hours, extracurricular, and obviously being top notch of my class. However, I meet none of those criteria. It seemed like everyone else had those things and were prepared to become future doctors. In the mist of all those thoughts I lost myself and the idea that I was living a static life came crashing down on me like heavy cement blocks. On my way to an exam that I felt extremely ill-prepared for, I collapsed. I remember my legs going weak and everything going black. For a few seconds I just laid on the grass in complete darkness while a stranger in the background repeatedly asked if I was okay. I was sent to the ER and walked out since I didn't have the financials to see a physician.

I spent the next few days looking for counseling and drowning in my tears. The world at this point felt numb to me. I tried looking online for depression advice. I went to a free clinic and cried like I was in a mid life crisis in front of multiple medical students and doctors. I had support from so many friends who tried to talk and comfort me which I really appreciated. But those were empty words to me. Everyone said the same things, and they would make me feel human for a few minutes and I would retreat to that same numbness again. I contemplated dropping out of college and letting go everything I've worked for to this point go. My friend offered to take me to her bible study, and this might be one of the biggest milestones in my life.

I was always scientifically driven. The intangible idea that an unearthly being existed was undeniably bogus to me. Everything needed to be backed up by evidence. Science and religion could not coexist to me. Going to bible study was my last resort. While there, I talked to the pastor and he gave me knowledge about God. Through a long process, I locked myself in, and prayed. Even till this day I can't describe what happened without feeling like a crazy child. I felt like I prayed to God, and he accepted me. Then, I realized that God has always been with me. So many occasions in life where he reached out to me that I didn't realize before. God has a plan for me and I know that he will be there for me.

I guess I just wanted to share that experience with you guys, and in a way, clear some of my thoughts. My Finals schedule looks like its out to tackle me. That is okay though because I repeat this in my mind: "GPA does not define who I am. My worth cannot be compared to anyone else. My success is defined by my efforts." I am still going through the struggle of trying not to compare myself to other people. I admit that I get curious and like to know how others did on exams  with the guilty pleasure of maybe doing better. I'm working on it so I can become a more genuine human being.

Even if I can't fly, I can walk. Even if I can't walk, I can crawl. Either way, I have my goals in life and I will get there using the best of my efforts and will power. So, if you ever feel suffocated by all the demands of life, take a deep breath. You're breathing and alive. And as long as you are alive, you can take steps in life. The worst thing that can happen to us is death.

I try to think that even if I'm crawling, I'm still moving. It might be slow and hard to watch people run past me, but I will get there. Because I have will power left in me.

Bare Feet

"I wake up everyday and I think, 'I'm breathing! It's good day'"

- Eve Ensler 

     It's a good day today. I don't know why since nothing today is different than any other day, but today is a good day. In fact, I have finals coming up that I should be wholeheartedly studying for. I'm not as stressed this time around. Perhaps the levels of serotonin in me today is very high...Or maybe I've just gone insane. I suffer from depression and often overthink my life and feel as though my life is nothing but nothingness. Sometimes, we all just need to take a deep breath, and realize that we are alive and healthy. Being in the hospital environment has given me new appreciation to my life and all the lives around me. 

This post actually all started with me trying to find a pair of new shoes. The salt and snow pathways last winter and the heavy rain this summer has worn out the same shoes I've been wearing for two years now. I really liked these shoes because they were given to me. I also like them because they are the most comfortable shoes I've had. The bottom layer of the shoe has completely been rubbed off, the insoles are shearing, and it makes a very distinct squeak with every step I make. I went online to search for this pair of shoes only to find that its expensive and out of my price range of shoes. I almost never spend very much money on items I don't need. I try not to think about it. I was spending time with a relative a few weeks ago when she showed me a pair of rain boots she wanted that was on sale. "On Sale" to me entails $5. She handed me her iPhone with the screen pulled up for a fancy $200 pair of rain boots. I was almost culture shocked at the difference between me, and her. Her perspective of 'cheap' was the equivalent of my 'very expensive'. But, that's beside the point. Let's move on to some stories  I want to share about my eye opening experience as a volunteer in a hospital.  

The Old Man 

In the hospital, I volunteer as an ambassador to guide patients and visitors around the large complex. One morning, after I had just escorted a family to see their newborn grandson, I rushed back to the front desk. At the front desk, there was a senior man sitting in a wheel chair. He looked confused, and his English held a very thick accent. He extended his hand in my direction:
 "Can you tell me where the emergency room is?" - he asked
" I can take you there if you'd like. Is there anyone with you today sir?" - I asked with the assumption that someone may have dropped him off to find a parking spot. 
He looked down, "No." 
One our way to the ER, he asked me is I spoke Chinese, and I replied yes. 
He began telling me the stories of his childhood, and of how he came to america. At the ER, he struggled to tell the nurse about his knee pain and how he could no longer walk on his feet.  
I was about to depart and go back to the front desk I came from, but he grabbed my arm and asked me if I could stay for a little longer. So I did, and I pushed him into triage and listened to him for a few more minutes. He was very excited it seems, that someone was listening to his stories. I was happy that this man was happy to share his stories with me. The nurse for triage came, and took him to the back. She asked me if I was with him, and I said " No, I just volunteer here." 
"Thank you for bringing him here, we will take care of him now"- said said as she wheeled him to the back. He tried to hold on to my sleeve for a brief second before letting go, and that was the last I ever saw the man. 
I remember walking out of the ER feeling very lonely. I wonder if he will ever be able to share his stories with someone as excited to hear them again. I wonder where his children were when he needed their assistance. I thought about how lonely his must have felt, to grow old.

The Red-Eyed Doctor 

This doctor walked in the front door with his eyes puffy. His specialty was oncology (tumors). The lady at the information desk greeted him and asked him, "How is she today?". The doctor didn't say anything but just accepted a warm hug and walked towards the elevator. I later found out that his wife was suffering from cancer, and had only half a year to live. He had family-leave days, but he choose to come to the hospital to continue his work and treat his patients. I really look up to him. 


There has been many encounters at the hospital such as this. I've watched grown adults burst out in tears, children crying because they understand a loved one is in pain, and the dread of not knowing if tomorrow will happen. I was frustrated at how this world was operated, I was frustrated even more at myself for complaining about my poor financial condition. This was when I was stressing over studying for another exam and calculating grade outcomes based on the amount of points I earned and how much more I could earn to get an "A". I lost it, I scratched my head and cried. I laid myself right on top of all my study papers and fell asleep. 

Hours later, I was woken up by the sound of thunder and crashing rain. I didn't know what time it was, just that I had taken a very long and needed nap. I was compelled to run outside of my apartment, onto the pavement, and into the rain. It's funny now to think I awkward that must have been for other people to see. I stared at the gray morning sky, and down. What I saw was bare feet. My bare feet. 

Bare feet can take me to places I want to go. I didn't need new shoes, I just 'wanted' new shoes. I don't need to be tied down by my own self doubt based on arbitrary letters. I have feet. And because I have feet, I can go to the places that I want to go. I can climb the mountains that I want to climb. It's a new found appreciation that I am alive so I can create a future. 

I may not have wings to soar the heavens, but I have feet to help me undercover the world. 

Authority

" The disappearance of a sense of responsibility is the most far-reaching consequence of submission to authority."

- Stanley Milgram

There has been an abundance of media portrayals of police brutality and the holes that still grow in the fabric of America's justice system. The most recent is the death and alleged murder of Sandra Bland. I admit that I am not fully competent on my knowledge of our government or the law, but I have the basic knowledge as an american citizen.  I cannot draw conclusions myself on whether this lady was murdered or committed suicide inside her jail cell. I have the brain of a scientist and need evidence before ever making a conclusion. However, I can be certain of one thing: A minor lane change driving violation is not a basis for arrest. Refusal to not speak to a police officer is a right outline by the 5th amendment. Refusal to remain in your car is a right. Asking why you are under arrest is not resisting arrest. You can only resist arrest when there is a premises for your arrest. This leads to the topic of today's blog. The Power of Pompous Authority.

Some may argue that she should have just complied to the officers orders  and everything would have been fine. I personally don't understand why that is ever 'okay'. We give away certain freedoms in trade of  order and protection under the government. Have the citizens of America forgotten that we have rights? When you say "No" to someone of authority, and you have the lawful right to do so, why should we be scared? Instead of feeling protection when police are around, why are some people more afraid? This seems counter intuitive to what my knowledge of a justice system should be. It also bothers me that, soon, this story will be forgotten. Like everything viral on social media, it only last for weeks but not years. This is why we are not pushing forward but sitting on our chairs hoping the world will push itself without it's own feet. I am not saying I have a solution for the problem of injustice and misuse of authority. We can fill the holes of our system with ceramic so that is is a strong system, but ceramic is brittle and breaks under stress. We can fill it with metal so that is is not as brittle, but metal bends. We can fill it with polymer so that it is malleable, but polymer is weak. A solution to our current criminal system is not a 1 day solution. It takes effort and consensus. But, it's when we all forget these problems, that these problems continue to grow. When we forget about Sandra Bland, "we forget that she was a person". 

With that being said, I am not accusing all police of brutality. I hear the term "fuck the police" way too often. Just because there is media coverage of these incidence of power abuse, does not mean that all of the police in america are terrible, power hungry, racist, discriminating individuals ready to hunt you down because they don't like you. If you believe that one persons actions cannot account for everyone's character and you think that all police are terrible, you are a hypocrite. Yes, there are pompous, arrogant, power hungry authority figures out there. That is an unfortunate fact in all societies.  However people should not generalize so quickly on the character of a group of people based on the actions of a few. There are police men who risk their lives on duty in order to protect us and I feel that they should be respected. 

People often associate media coverage as if everything is going bad. For example a  plane crash incidents leads to many people avoiding flights because they have the mindset that planes have a higher chance of crashing. The honest truth is that there are still planes flying, and the rate of crashes has not increased. We are scared by our own media but forget to realize that the news is a business. They report whats interesting to the people and what will generate the most views. Just because there has been an upward trend of stories such as this, does not mean that violence, racism, discrimination, and police brutality are rising. It has always happened and always will happen until we all make a congruent effort to change what is wrong. 

Late Night Thoughts: May 22nd, 2015

It's 1:41 A.M EST right now, and I can't sleep. For one because there is a tangled array of thoughts inside my brain. You know, for instance when you pack up all your extension cords and they magically tangle on their trip. Or the pair of headphones in your pocket that you always have to undo knots in if you want to listen to music. Then there are very loud intoxicated college students shouting right outside my apartment. So I'm going to write down my thoughts for the night before they escape me..in poem form. By no means is this well thought out or put together. This is also the time where I think about the cliche love aspect of my life I almost never talk about. Leap inside the mind of an over thinker!

If I ever had a boyfriend, 

he would have to understand,

that between the choice of saving the world, and him,

I would save the world.

It's not because I don't love him enough,

It's because I have my own set of morals. 

I want to just sit by the seaside one day, 

so I can watch how the sky kisses the sea, 

and how the ocean swallows the sun at dusk.

I want to understand what the birds think, 

when they fly towards the horizon and its scorching sun.

There are many things that I fear:

Dark water because I almost died in the deep cloudiness 8 years ago,

being alone because time always goes slower when you are alone, 

swarms of small insect, mud, misunderstanding. 

But most of all, I fear NOT KNOWING. 

Not knowing how my life will play out.

Not knowing if I may die tomorrow. 

Not knowing. Not knowing, Not knowing. 

"What is the point of giving our children flight lessons...

If they no longer have wings" 

I loved someone once, 

In fact I must admit I still do. 

It's a very complicated feeling honestly. 

To love someone, but not want to be with them. 

To love someone, 

but have them hand you your heart strings 

on a plate of interwoven memories that cannot be replicated. 

To love someone, 

and watch them love someone who is not you. 

Wow. That was super cheesy. 

One of the biggest goals in my life is to travel the world,

I want to see many many places with my own pair of eyes. 

To meet the people there and experience their life. 

It would be nice to step on soil not cement. 

And smell air that's not polluted by factories.