Misconstrue

TWENTY-SIX seconds

"The ventilator isn't a long-term solution."  I nod as I flip through my grandmother's medical charts. "Mr. Phillips told me that you are a doctor in the U.K., I'm sure you can understand what you're looking at."

I close the file with a huff as I look back at the man before me. His spectacles shine as he's sitting directly under the florescent lights. His hair is peppered with bits of gray, but that doesn't give away his age, as he looks much younger than he probably is.

"You're asking me to kill her." Dr. Noble shakes his head at me. Truth be told, I am being difficult. "It'll be too hard for her to breathe. Her body isn't functioning, can't we just let her have this one thing?"

"We still need to measure her respiration rates." Dr. Noble's firm. "It's time." I roll my eyes. "Have you been sleeping well, Miss Smith?"

"What do you think?"

I sigh softly as I try to bury the memory of the last conversation I had with my grandmother's doctor. Despite my emotions, I knew that removing the ventilator is the best call, I just didn't want to accept it. I don't want to accept any of this. 

It's been three weeks since my return. Nevis has seen some changes while I was away, but unfortunately for me, I haven't been able to go out much. My days are filled with assisting Mr. Phillips with the house and yard maintenance and my nights are spent on a small cot beside my grandmother's bed. I wake up every two hours just to check if she's breathing, which is quite scary because there are brief moments when she just stops breathing.

In those moments, I tell myself that this is it. The first time she stopped breathing I realized that I'm not prepared for any of this. As much as Mr. Phillips is helping me I don't have a handle on any of it. There's so much to do and the fact that she might pass at any given second is giving me mad anxiety. 

The thermometer beeps and I turn away from the opened windows. On the bedside table sits a notebook in which I record her temperature and blood pressure. Her stats aren't looking good this week, and Dr. Noble told me what to expect, but I just can't seem to accept it. 

Lack of acceptance will be my downfall.

"You haven't opened your eyes since I got here." I grunt miserably as I reposition her body. "What would you like for breakfast?" I'm greeted with silence as I flush her feeding tube. "I'm having tamales - well the Jamaican version - and coffee."

I apply lip balm to her lips as I try not to think about the fact that I've been living in silence for the past three weeks. "The neighbour, Vivian, made the tamales. I was never able to get those complicated recipes down." I straighten with a soft sigh. "I'll be back to check on you later."

I quietly make my way downstairs. Even though she's a little unresponsive at the moment, my grandmother has never liked loud noises - and her definition of loud has always been exaggerated. My mother and I agreed to give my grandmother some grace given what she went through. But now that I'm older, I had no idea it was this hard to live without a television. Or Wi-Fi. Or a radio!

Anything that makes a noise is forbidden in this house. But I guess all of that will be over soon once my grandmother passes, and this grand house on the hill will be locked up for a long time.

****

"Thanks for walking with me." Sharon, Mr. Phillips' daughter smiles at me as she hands me a bag of packed food from dinner. 

"Any time, Bay Leaf." I roll my eyes at the use of the childhood nickname. "Are you okay alone? I can send one of the boys to sleep over."