It’s been almost 19 months since my brother called me and said “get to the hospital” I asked him why and he responded “I’m on my way there now, mam is gone, she’s dead” then he just sobbed and hung up.
It didn’t take long for me to get to the hospital but it felt like forever. I remember thinking there had been a mix up. It couldn’t possibly be my Mammy.
When I opened the hospital room door one of mams besties was standing with her back towards the door. I thought it was my mam but then I saw my brother on the floor crying. It was as I walked towards him I saw my our beautiful Mammy.
She looked so petite and pale. The hospital sheets were pulled up under her armpits with her arms resting on top and white medical padding hid her throat.
I took her hand and moved the padding. Her throat had blood on it still and looked sore.
I asked her friend why!?
She told me our Mammy had been re-diagnosed with mouth/throat cancer at Christmas but swore her 2 besties to secrecy and changed her next of kin to them so my brother and I wouldn’t find out.
My brother was still sat on the floor sobbing but I was angry. Mams bestie left and I went to ask the Dr questions.
He told me she had gone in for a routine throat pipe change (I can’t remember the proper term) everything went well and mam was her usual mischievous self. She was up out of bed eagerly waiting discharge when he went to take a last set of bloods. As he done so mam told him she was bleeding, it was then he realised blood was coming from her throat. He said they tried to save her but the main artery in her throat had gone and she bled out. There was nothing they could of done to save her.
I went back and held my Mammy’s hand. My brother told me they had to take our Mammy now but I told him that they couldn’t and I wouldn’t leave her. We had a few heated words and he walked out.
I begged her to wake up. I told her “Mammy if you don’t wake up now they’re going to take you from me and I need you. You have to wake up”. I thought I heard her breathe but she didn’t.
I stayed in that room until 2 nurses came in and said they had to take her. I put her arms under the sheet, stroked her hair and kissed her faced. 1 of the nurses covered my Mammy’s face and they took her away.
I can’t remember anything about that day after that moment but I keep having flashbacks. They cut deeper every time. It’s like, it’s happening again and again. I feel like part of me is trying to accept she’s gone whilst another part of me refuses to accept it.