My dad had a heart attack yesterday afternoon.
But he’s actually not my father. He’s one of the four brothers of my mom who took care of me when I was a little girl (and still do).
He passed out while driving, crashed his car againts another, luckily a firefighter was passing by while the other car ran way the scene. My uncle got helped, and in his few moments of conciousness he wishper his brother’s name: the doctor of the family.
They took it to the hospital, where it was very difficult to stabilize him, went into surgery but they couldln’t help him since his arteries where too damaged and blocked.
Apparently, he should have been in some sort of pain for the las month, but never said anything, never complained but for a stomachache.
I went to the hospital today, they let me in for a few minutes, he cried as soon as he saw me, he misses us very much, he doens’t like being all lone in intensive coronary care.
My other uncle got me out the room since he can’t bare any emotions right now. I cry all the way out trought that long white hallway.
He’s under treatment now… they’re gonna try to get him into surgery again tomorrow.
No garantees.
I accept the fact that it migth be his time, what I can’t take is him being all by himslef in that frozen room, scared and lonely.