Full Circle

My grandma and I are hospital mates; we were both patients of the same hospital. Our visits were under different circumstances, but we are technically linked beyond our genetics: we are hospital mates—just 24 years apart. I was being born in the maternity ward, and she is getting blood in the oncology ward.

When I visited my grandma, it was strange to see her receiving another person’s blood through tubes, but, oddly enough, it was stranger seeing her hair matted and tangled from resting her head against a hospital pillow. My grandma always seems to have her hair in order; this oily and flattened bed head looked very out of character. Oddly enough, the IV blood or sagging skin from fatigue did not bother me as much as the hair, the untended hair—the dethroning of a beloved queen.

I sat down next to her bed, and we watched “Wheel of Fortune” together. Despite her being bedridden, the sole source of entertainment, the TV, was electronically snowing all over Vanna White. I felt sad that her procedures were reducing what little hearing she has. At least shows like “Jeopardy” and “Wheel” are largely text-based so an essentially deaf person could still receive enjoyment without knowing what CC means.

At a commercial break, I tried to fill the silence with small talk about how cool it was to get free ice cream; I’m sure that’s exactly what cancer patients want to hear. The cool refreshment of Vanilla in a plastic cup makes my uncontrollable cell mass feel so much better! I might be an adult, but I still don’t understand what true pain and true sacrifice means.

I remained silent in hopes that my echoing feelings of idiocy would disperse. “Wheel” was ending, and visiting hours were over. I told my grandma I would be back to see her again later in the week. She nodded, and her shiny eyes read, “Thanks for coming.”

My grandma has supported me my whole life. She picked me up from school. She signed my pink slip when I pushed a kid at school. She rubbed my stomach through my first bought with constipation. She drove 3 hours to Fresno to spend time with me. She sat quietly at the kitchen table when I decided to switch majors from Bio to English. She welcomed every single one of my girlfriends into her home. She held my hand at her husband’s funeral. She gave years of her life. My grandma has supported me unconditionally and voluntarily, so I already knew the answer to the question I asked as I was leaving her room.

“Were you in this hospital on the day I was born?”

Full Circle.